Just Go With It

Greetings, readers! This is a one-shot short story I've written for the Literotica Summer Lovin' 2016 contest. I had a lot of fun writing this one, and I hope you enjoy reading it as well. Please rate and comment; all constructive feedback is greatly appreciated!

*

Cancún. To the average traveler, it seemed a tropical paradise on Earth. To Josh Sanders, however, it was merely a reminder of what could have been and what almost was. As the plane screeched to the ground, finally ending the nearly three hour flight, Josh kept his eyes turned towards the window, watching the airport speed past him as they slowed. He dared not look at the empty middle seat of his row.

"Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain. We have now arrived at Cancún International Airport, local time four o'clock in the afternoon. Temperature is a humid eighty-five degrees. Please remain seated as the flight crew prepares the cabin for arrival."

Josh relaxed for the next several minutes as the plane taxied up to the gate, turning his cellphone back on and texting his parents to let them know he was safely on the ground. Luckily, his cell phone provider didn't charge roaming fees in foreign tourist areas, as long as he reported his travel plans to them. Finally, the wheels stopped and the flight attendants opened the doors to the exit ramps, and the passengers began to stand and grab their bags from the overhead bins. Unfortunately, Josh was near the back of coach, and the plane was nearly empty as he finally was able to make his way up to the exit with his backpack. The flight attendants were, admittedly, very attractive, and their cheerful demeanor seemed more genuine than with other flights he had been on in the past, but the bubbly blonde thanking him for his patronage was the furthest thing from his mind at this point.

Throughout his journey through the airport terminal, Josh seemed in a daze the entire time. Nothing excited or irritated him, not even the long line in the customs department. Happy couples abounded all around him, each excited for their vacation in paradise. As he waited at baggage claim for his suitcase, a delayed text message from during his flight finally came through.

I miss you, babe. Come on, just speak to me. We can figure this out.

Shaking his head, Josh simply ignored it and pocketed his phone, grabbing his suitcase from the luggage belt. Swiftly extending the handle, he made for the airport exit and arrived at the pick-up lanes. With a wave of his hand, the nearest taxi pulled up, the driver enthusiastically placing his bags in the trunk and opening the door for Josh.

"Where to, Señor?"

"Huh? Oh, um... Hotel Azteca," Josh muttered in reply. Moments later, as the cab moved out to the main road, he began to doze in and out of consciousness.

*****

"Ok, we're here!" the cab driver said.

"Oh! Ok then!" Josh replied, being startled awake.

Rubbing his eyes momentarily, he pulled out some money and paid the driver before exiting the cab to collect his bags. After slinging his backpack over his shoulder and grabbing his suitcase, he turned to the entrance of the hotel, only to be horrified with what he now saw.

"Wait... this isn't the right place..."

The building in front of him bore a sign reading "Motel Azteca." The motel itself looked like the worst sort, where rooms were booked by the hour, rather than the night, and reservations were unheard of. As Josh spun around to catch the cab driver, he cursed in frustration to find that the man had already taken off.

"Wait! Come back, dammit!!!"

It was no use. All of a sudden, Josh was alone in Mexico with no clue which direction he needed to go in. As this realization set it, he felt the all-too-familiar anxiety and fear flaring up once more. Josh reached into his suitcase for the little bottle of pills he always kept nearby, opening the cap and popping one into his mouth. He was so desperate for it that he didn't even need water to get it down easily. Taking a few moments to catch his breath, he slowly began to feel the medicine's effects help ever so slightly, allowing him to focus on what he needed to do next.

Josh walked the street up and down for a few minutes, looking for any sign of a cab that could get him back to where he needed to be, but with no success. By the look of several signs, he had ended up in a poorer area of Puerto Morelos, rather than the Cancún resort area. After about fifteen minutes, he had finally traveled far enough up the road to reach an area of town that appeared relatively safe for tourists. Josh soon felt his journey catch up to him, particularly in the hunger department and, spying a nearby bar covered by a straw hut, he figured that would probably be his best bet. Taking a seat at the bar, he ordered a plate of nachos, one of his favorite comfort foods. As he waited for his food, Josh was completely oblivious to the individual moving to sit next to him.

"Well, hello there, sailor. Can I buy you a drink?"

"Derek? Derek Brooks?! Dude, it's great to see ya!" Josh exclaimed, greeting his best friend with their traditional fist bump.

"Likewise, my friend," Derek replied in his Tennessee accent.

"What the hell are you doin' here?"

"My band's here for a music festival this week. They're goin' on all summer."

"Nice," Josh replied with a grin. "Bring some good country music down here to Mexico."

"Yep. Hey, bartender! Two bottles of Corona please!"

"Aww... you remember my drink of choice. How sweet," Josh mocked him.

Punching his shoulder playfully, Derek replied, "Dude, you're so lucky I know you as well as I do. Gotta be honest, I'm glad you decided to come."

"Yeah, I debated about it, but ultimately decided on my dad's advice: waste not," Josh said, raising his bottle.

"Here here!" Derek agreed, clinking the glass of their bottles together.

*****

Not bad... not bad at all.

Rebecca Juarez sat at a table in the corner of the beach bar, indulging in one of her favorite activities: people watching. Frequently, however, she would be the one being watched, as she did realize that she was quite a beautiful woman. Still, almost all the guys that typically approached her were direct from the same cookie-cutter: tall, good-looking, but total assholes that cared nothing about the brain beneath her pretty face. Glancing around the bar, most of the men there in the early evening appeared to be cut from the same cloth. All except for one, however.

A man about her age, maybe twenty-eight, sat at the main bar, sipping on a Corona and chatting with another man next to him. He was clearly a tourist, with his bags seeming to indicate that he had just gotten off the plane, and he had appeared nervous and stressed from the moment he walked in. The guy was clearly out of his element, at least until he began talking with the man next to him. As soon as he saw the second man, his face absolutely lit up, showing a glimmer his true personality at last. The pair clearly knew each other, and Rebecca had surmised from the guitar pick necklace around his neck that the second man was part of the band that would be playing later on.

Though the first guy was certainly not the typical manly-man with rugged good looks, Rebecca found herself attracted to him nonetheless. He looked somewhat overweight for his height, maybe 225 pounds and just over six feet tall, she guessed. His black hair was short and curly, and his face was outlined a thin goatee and mustache. With his pale white skin and tall socks and tennis shoes, he was the very mental image of the typical American vacationer, wearing a navy polo, khaki shorts, and a Georgia Tech baseball cap. Yet, all of his quirks and awkwardness melted away in her eyes when she saw him smile and laugh with his friend for the first time. That smile brought out a feeling she hadn't experienced in such a long time: arousal. Still, she wasn't sure if she should proceed or not.

Jeez, he really looks like a nice guy... awkward, but honest. That shell of his is gonna be tough to break, but I bet it'd be worth it... for both him and me. But how to do it without hurting him? I know it's been a year, and I'm more mature now, but is that enough? If I break his heart, I've learned nothing at all. God, what to do?

As she mulled things over in her mind, Becky saw the two men say their goodbyes for the time being. She sauntered across the room towards the taller man, watching him begin to set up his band's equipment.

"So, what kind of music are we getting tonight?" she asked the musician.

"Country, ma'am. Real Nashville country," he replied with a grin. "Name's Derek, lead singer and guitarist of the Derek Brooks Band."

"Pleasure, I'm Becky," she smiled back. "Listen, I actually wanted to ask you about your friend over there. Is he... available?"

With a slight laugh, Derek replied, "Yeah, he's single. Why? You interested?"

Nodding, she replied, "He seems sweet, and I can only assume intelligent, what with the Georgia Tech hat."

"You're not wrong there. Damn smart guy, that one. He's really shy, though, and it'll take some coaxing to get him to open up. Although... I think getting to know a smart girl genuinely interested in him would do him some good. You fit that bill, ma'am?"

"I think I can manage perfectly. Thanks, Derek."

"No problem. Oh, Becky, one thing."

"What's that?" she asked.

Sighing, Derek said, "He's my best friend in the world, and he's been through more shit than he deserves. If you hurt him-"

"I won't," she said quickly, yet sincerely. "You have my word."

*****

Sitting alone at the bar, Josh quietly sipped his Corona and munched on his nachos. He figured that he wouldn't spend much longer here, just enough to finish his food before calling a cab to take him to the correct hotel. It seemed a bit of a waste, as it was only early evening by that time, but his journey and unexpected detour had completely drained him. Besides, the last thing he needed was another anxiety attack. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a gorgeous woman chatting with Derek across the bar, no doubt smitten with the good-looking musician.

Lucky bastard.

Continuing to devour his meal, Josh got careless with one of the nachos, and a large glob of cheese dripped from the chip and onto his polo. Swearing and cursing under his breath, he grabbed a napkin and dabbed at the spot, but knew damn well that he wouldn't be able to get it out until he got home in two weeks, in all likelihood. As his frustration began to boil into anger at himself, his thoughts were interrupted by a sweet giggle from a few seats down.

"Careful, they go everywhere."

Looking up, Josh was stunned to see the gorgeous woman from earlier seated just around the corner of the bar. As she flashed a huge grin and ran her fingers through her dark brown hair, Josh could barely find the brain function to speak. She appeared to be of Hispanic descent, yet her voice carried not even a hint of accent. He surmised that she must not be a local. As he drank her in, she smoothly stood and made her way around the bar, giving him an incredible view of her navy sundress, complemented by a slightly ornate silver and gold necklace.

"I... um, hope you d-didn't hear... any of that," Josh stammered.

"The cussing? Please, I've heard much worse." Gesturing to the seat next to him, she asked, "May I?"

"Uh, sure. I-I mean, if you, ya know, want to?" Josh could feel another anxiety attack building up, though different from the one from earlier. This one wasn't born out of fear or anger, but excitement and confusion.

"Thanks," she replied, taking a seat. "Now then, if I'm not mistaken, it looks like you just arrived, am I right?"

"Yeah, pretty obvious," he said with a laugh, seeing his bags on the floor next to him.

"Well, this is far from my first visit to this part of the world, so allow me to welcome you to Cancún, stranger."

"T-thanks."

Giggling, she asked, "So, are you gonna tell me your name, or do you just want me to call you 'stranger' all night?"

All night? What's that supposed to mean?

"I'm, uh, Josh. Josh Sanders."

"A pleasure, Josh. Rebecca Juarez, although you may call me Becky," she replied, extending her hand.

Afraid that merely shaking her hand would trigger the anxiety attack he had been fighting the last several minutes, Josh simply took another sip of his drink, trying to pass it off as coincidence. Despite his natural ineptitude around beautiful women, he was determined to avoid screwing this conversation up for as long as he was able to.

"Good to know you, Becky."

As he was constantly avoiding eye contact with her, Becky could tell that Josh was still extremely uncomfortable, though he was trying. None of it frustrated her, though, as she found his mannerisms sweet and genuine, rather than bumbling or oafish, as others might. Taking notice of his baseball cap once more, she decided to try and relax him by asking about something familiar to him.

"So, is that Georgia Tech?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah. I survived it, and it only took five years," he laughed.

"Five years?"

"Yep. Trust me, at Tech that's a good time. 'Course, anyone who graduates is a success there, no matter how long it takes."

"Wow, that hard?" Becky asked.

Raising his Corona, Josh said, "They don't call it Architorture for nothing!"

"Architorture?! Was that your major?"

"At first, 'til I realized I wouldn't survive it with my sanity intact. Switched to computer science and engineering after freshman year."

"And what does one such as you do with that degree?" she asked inquisitively.

Shaking his head, Josh replied, "Eh, techie stuff, pretty boring overall."

"Oh, come on! Tell me," she prodded, playfully running her finger on his forearm as she did so.

Acquiescing, Josh said, "Well, my strength was always hacking code, basically the DNA of a computer system or program. I work for the Georgia Tech Research Institute in the cyber security department. Companies hire us to inspect their computer programs and do everything we can think of to break them and find the flaws, then design counters to stop ourselves."

"Wow, so you're like those guys people hire to break into their homes so they can design better home security systems."

Damn, she understood all that! Nice...

"Yeah, that's basically it," Josh replied. He could slowly feel his anxiety subsiding with the revelation of this woman's intelligence; she was clearly more than just a rockin' body.

"So, can you show me anything that you do? I mean I know we don't have a computer here at the bar, obviously, but can you describe it?"

Thinking for a moment, Josh suddenly got a fantastic idea for a demonstration that he had used in the past. "What kind of phone do you have?"

"An iPhone 6," Becky said, pulling it out of her purse.

"May I see it, please?" Seeing her eye him warily, he continued, "Don't worry, I'm not gonna do anything to hurt it, I promise. And if I tried to run off with it, I guarantee you'd catch my fat ass before I got out the door!"

Laughing heartily, she relinquished her phone to him.

"Alright then, I see you have it passcode protected," Josh observed.

"Of course, and thumbprint locked."

"So, that's pretty good security, right?"

"Right."

"Wrong."

"Huh?"

Smirking, Josh said, "Watch this." Holding down the center button, he managed to pull up the Siri voice commands without unlocking the phone. "Siri, who does this iPhone belong to?"

"This iPhone belongs to Becky Juarez."

Becky's eyes widened as Siri began to display her name, phone number, email address, and even her street address. "Holy shit... I had no idea that was possible!"

"Not many people do. But there's an easy way to stop it, even while leaving the Siri capability on. Here, try it with mine," Josh said, handing Becky his iPhone 6s.

"Siri, who does this iPhone belong to?"

"This iPhone belongs to George P. Burdell."

"Who's George P. Burdell?" she asked with a laugh.

"Only the most famous nonexistent student in Georgia Tech history. A bunch of students originally conjured him up as a prank back in 1927, and his popularity has stuck ever since. Supposedly, he's earned every degree Tech offers, once served in the military, and was nearly TIME Magazine's 'Person of the Year' in 2001. His name is basically a giant inside joke among Tech grads."

"Nice. So how did you make your iPhone think that it's owned by him?"

"Easy. I just created a dummy contact in the phone, then went into the settings to make that contact the one the phone recognizes as the owner."

"Huh, so if I do this..." Becky fiddled with her phone for a few minutes before trying the Siri trick once more, this time being told the phone belonged to Eva Longoria.

"Nice! You catch on fast."

"I try," Becky replied, blushing a little.

"So I take by your lack of accent that you aren't a local, is that right?"

"Yep. Born and raised in Corpus Christi, Texas," Becky said. "Though my father and grandfather were from this area. They helped build up my great-grandfather's tiny shrimping business into the top fishing company on the peninsula. Though my grandfather and uncle stayed behind to keep running the business here, my father soon moved to America to open up the Texas branch, to great success. It wasn't long before he met my mother, Madison. They fell in love hard and fast, and the rest is history!"

"Impressive, I do love a good American Dream story. Do you work in the family business too?"

"No, I actually decided to go my own direction," Becky replied. "I've always been fascinated by jewelry and precious stones, so I got my degree in gemology from the University of Kansas, mainly from the awesome scholarship they offered me, and now work in the diamond business in Kansas City."

"Very cool. Isn't that stressful work, though, being on commission and pressured to sell?"

"Not at the place I work. We aren't on commission at Shane Company, and I only sell about half the time. The other half I apprentice with the owner, working to repair and evaluate our merchandise. I'm hoping to be able to own my own store one day."

"Ah, that's... cool."

Becky detected a hint of something in Josh's voice, but she couldn't be sure what it was. Regret perhaps? She had no idea what would cause that, but decided not to force that issue at this time. By now, Derek's band had cranked up the music and the bar was filling up with more patrons.

"Your friend's really good," she said to Josh.

"Yeah, he's always had a real talent for that."

"I can see. Wanna dance?"

Josh nearly choked on the last of his drink at her question. Though their conversation was coming more easily to him now, the thought of dancing with this goddess, touching her, holding her, feeling her warm body rubbing against his, it was enough to nearly cause him to panic right then and there. His mind raced as he tried to think of a good excuse to slip away, but nothing smooth came to mind.

"I, uh... I, I, I... don't really dance."

Running her hand through her soft, silky hair, she stared straight into him with her warm, brown eyes and smiled. "Really now, Josh. You're on vacation in a tropical paradise, and a beautiful woman is asking you to dance with her. You're a smart man. What's the problem?"

The problem's that this shit never happens to me! Seriously, this has to be a setup or something...

Though he thought this might be a prank, he didn't want to hurt Becky's feelings, so he kept those thoughts to himself. Instead he replied, "Look, I'm just... a really awful dancer. I'd probably embarrass you, at best. Worst case, I'd crush your feet."

Giggling, she replied, "I'd say it's worth the risk. But, I totally get that some people need a little liquid courage before hitting the dance floor. Manuel? Two shots of Cuervo please!"