After Tonight

I awoke the next morning to the smell of freshly brewed coffee—I hadn’t even opened my eyes and it was already off to a better start than the morning before. Rolling over, wrapping my naked self in the sea-green sheets, I felt around for Rob. When my fingers grazed nothing but cotton, I opened my eyes and sat up. The blinds hadn’t been opened, but the door to the balcony was open. The gentle wash of the waves sounded through the room. I quietly peeked out of the door and saw Rob looking out at the water in front of him, clad only in his pajama pants. He held a coffee mug tightly between his hands and rested his elbows on the railing, humming softly. The sight was simply captivating.
“Hey.” I walked out to him, wrapping my arms around his waist.
“Hi.” He murmured, looking over his shoulder briefly. “I didn’t wake you did I?” I shook my head no and let go to stand beside him.
I leaned against the railing, looking up at his profile. He was so much taller than I was and I felt like a little kid when I decided to stand on my tip toes to measure up. With my attention focused on how well I could balance on my toes, I hadn’t noticed Rob staring at me. When I turned back, I got lost in his eyes.
“What?” I asked quietly, feeling myself blush slightly. He didn’t respond, he only continued to watch me with a strangely serious expression. But then he reached out to stroke the side of my face, a smile forming on his lips. I closed my eyes, inhaling the fresh air. He could make me dizzy.
“Nothing.” I could barely hear him over the waves. He dropped his hand and cleared his throat, looking back out at the ocean. “Do you want some coffee?”
I smiled softly. “I can get it.” Rob shook his head and held up a finger. He ducked inside and one minute later he was back on the balcony with another cup. “Thank you sir.”
We drank our coffee in silence, snuggled together watching the beach slowly start to fill up with surfers and sunbathers.
“You ready to start this vacation?”
…
“Can you get my back?” I held up the SPF lotion bottle, squinting at Rob. He’d taken my sunglasses, which were nearly identical to his anyway, and put them on. When he started running circles around me, I stuck my hand on my hip. “Fine. I’ll just go ask Rico Suave over there…” I blatantly pointed my finger at some hot-shot in a yellow Speedo.
I was suddenly lifted from the sand and whisked off to the water’s edge. Unlike the first time we’d been at the beach, I didn’t protest. Instead, I wrapped my arms and legs around Rob and let him carry me into the lukewarm water.
“Ready?” Rob had taken off both pairs on sunglasses on the beach and now looked at me, eyes twinkling. I shook my head vigorously, plugging my nose. “What are you, four?”
I nodded again and he laughed, letting go. I hit the rough surface less gracefully than I would have liked. When I came up, sputtering and slicking my hair back and wiping my eyes, Rob was nowhere to be seen. And then he came up from underwater in front of me, face completely covered with hair.
“You look like Cousin It.” I reached up to push his hair away from his face, which only made it stick straight up. “But this is a really good look for you.” I was now in the process of forming a mohawk, well three separate mohawks—he just had so much hair.
“I’m sure it i—” Rob was caught off guard by a wave that knocked us toward the shore. I felt his arms around my waist before we went under. The two of us came up sputtering and laughing, which then led to coughing and more laughing. He grabbed onto my tightly once another wave began to approach and captured my lips in a salty kiss.
I’d only been in an ocean once, but I think Rob made up for my lack of experience. By the time we trudged to shore, completely out of breath from playing in the surf like little kids, others around us had moved onto lunch. I toweled off to go get us some drinks and by the time I got back, Rob had started building a sandcastle. He was so lost in his craft he hadn’t noticed the beer I’d nestled in the sand beside him.
“Can you get me some water?” He looked up at me, urgently expressing that the sand was not wet enough to continue.
Because somehow I’d forgotten my buckets and pails—imagine that—, I searched around frantically for something to hold the water in. All that was available were our beer bottles. Trying to hide behind the beach chair, I dumped each of them into the sand. There goes ten dollars down the drain.
I came back, both bottles filled with water and handed them to Rob, who’d had a sour look on his face since he caught me depriving him of his drink.
“Not only did I bring you water, I found shells to decorate!” And then I was my hands and knees beside him, creating a shell-covered masterpiece.
The beach started to crowd up again once lunch-time ended and with the tourists, came the paparazzi. I should have been used to it, but I was in my bikini trying to have a vacation. In a way, it sort of creeped me out. These were personal moments and I, or we, had to share them with millions of other people. I didn’t quite see how it was fair. Why did people have to be so enamored with celebrities that they had to know everything about them down to what color bathing suit they wore?
As Rob and I curled up on one of the beach chairs together, we heard the whisper of a teenage girl. I rolled away from Rob to see a girl, no more than fifteen or sixteen, paralyzed and clenching the latest issue of OK! in her hands. Rob was on the cover.
“You’re Robert Pattinson.” If I didn’t know any better, I would’ve have guessed the girl was about to pee her pants. No joke.
Not wanting to prolong this awkward moment a minute longer, Rob stood up and went to sign her magazine. She thanked him immensely, still unable to keep her eyes off him or keep from shaking, and backed away slowly. I tried not to laugh. It was fan-encounters like that which made the onslaught of paparazzi almost bearable. Rob too, obviously.
Before another fan, or camera, could approach Rob grabbed my hands and led me off down the beach. Fingers laced, we tried to find a more secluded place. When that mission failed, we turned around and went back to the hotel. Neither of us was in the mood to go to a restaurant, so we ordered up some room service. But first, I was in desperate need of a shower.

Rob’s P.O.V.
While Abbey showered, our food arrived. Unsure of whether or not I should start without her, I knocked on the shower door. Abbey rinsed shampoo out of her long brown hair. Once she’d wiped her eyes, she slid open the door and smiled at me.
“Coming to join me?”
“Is that an invitation?” My eyes took in the sight before me. She was perfect; from the mole on her ear down to her purple toenails and absolutely everything in between. I ran my fingertips over the smooth skin of her waist. Abbey stepped closer to me, pulling my shirt up and over my head. The softness of her lips on the base of my neck was enough to make me go insane.
So the food would get cold, who cared?
…
Abbey wrapped herself in a towel before handing me one. She leaned over the counter, examining her face. I watched in awe, loving the way her skin flushed after we made love.
“Hey, do you need something for that?” I noticed that her back was a little red. She looked at me, confused.
“Uh…oh! No, I’m fine.” She smiled thoughtfully, flipping her hair and scrunching it with her fingers.
After getting dressed, I carried my guitar case out to the balcony. I never traveled without it. Fortunately our room had a microwave so I popped both our very cold dishes in to reheat.
Abbey grabbed her plate full of pineapple chicken from my hands and walked out to the balcony, leaving a trail of water droplets from her hair. I heard a shriek of excitement when she saw my guitar.
“It has been such a long time since I’ve heard you play.” She sat down cross-legged on one of the chairs and began to cut into her dish. “Anything new?”
I sighed at sat down across from her, balancing my own dish on my knees. “I’ve been working on something, but it’s not really finished.” She smiled warmly, beckoning me to pick the instrument up. “Can’t I at least eat first?”
“No.” She looked at me grimly, pausing for effect before smiling again.

Abbey’s P.O.V.
I popped a pineapple chunk into my mouth, eyes glued on Rob’s fingers as he strummed one of my favorite songs. If I had to choose one thing that I loved most about Rob and his guitar, it would have to be his passion. Whenever he played or sang, he put every bit of himself into his and it was truly beautiful to watch.
“Our hearts a-thumpin’ and you, my brown-eyed girl…” I felt a flutter of butterflies in my stomach as Rob’s heart-melting voice rose above all other noise.
When he looked up, he smiled at me and I had to restrain myself from jumping him. As he continued to play, I closed my eyes and let myself drift into our own little corner of the universe. No paparazzi, no screaming fans, no ex-fiancés or flirtatious coffee girls. Just me and Rob.
…
Before our trip, Rob told me to make a list of everything I wanted to do during our stay. With only one day left, we’d accomplished almost everything—surfing, scuba-diving, site-seeing, even parasailing—and the last item on the list was an authentic luau. The resort we were staying was having a luau and like the majority of the other tourists, we went.
“What do you wear to a luau?” Rob was hovering over his suitcase, examining each piece of clothing before tossing it onto the floor—so typical.
“Uh…” I had no idea. “Probably the same thing you’ve worn every day. Why? Do you want one of those Hawaiian shirts they’re selling the gift-shop?”
He shook his head, furrowing his brow at the image. I couldn’t see him wearing a multi-colored flower-print shirt, though I would have paid good money to. While he chose an outfit, I silently wondered why he all of the sudden cared so much—he was my casual I-can-look-like-a-hobo-if-I-want-to guy.
I quickly ran through everything in my head. He wouldn’t propose during a luau. It was too cliché for him. But what if he did? Should I change? I was in a red wrap-skirt and white wife-beater. Did it really matter what I was wearing during the event? I inhaled deeply and decided that it didn’t. All that mattered was that when he asked, I said yes.
Rob and I were seated at a large table with four other couples, several of whom had children. The music started up and a round of cheers sounded from everyone under ten. The little girl on Rob’s left was fixated on him, watching his every move. I stifled a laugh as he waved awkwardly and smiled—what a charmer.
The hula girls came next. After a while, they ventured through the array of tables and pulled up unsuspecting volunteers. I was one of them. The sad truth was, I could not dance. I think I mentioned once that Rob had the coordination of drunk—I wasn’t any better and I blame my poor coordination on my dad. As much as I tried to stay in my seat, Rob tried even harder to get me out of it. When the woman finally had me by the wrists, pulling me toward the front, Rob whistled.
I felt my face burn as red as my skirt as I watched the dancers shake their hips and what-not. Then they nodded at me, beckoning to give it a try.
“I don’t move like that!” I shouted over the drums. Instead of giving up hope, one of them grabbed my waist and tried to force me into the hula position. “Uh, miss—I don’t think—”
“Ow ow!” I heard a distinctive accent shout from the crowd. That motherfucker.
“Fine!” The women looked at one another and smiled, pleased with their persuasive abilities.
They returned to my sides and demonstrated once again. I wiggled my hips, attempting to mimic them, though I probably resembled Forrest Gump more than a sexy hula-girl. Looking down at me lower-half, I burst out laughing—I knew I looked absolutely ridiculous. Seeing Rob’s face in the crowd, twisted in laughter, only confirmed my suspicion.
Obviously completely appalled with what they saw, the two dancers took my waist yet again. One of them guided my hips while the other showed me what to do with my arms. Again I tried to mimic them, unable to keep a straight face. I desperately wanted somebody to film this. When they thought I’d gotten the hang of it, the dancers moved on to another victim. I was left alongside a few girls half my age who were definitely showing me up.
“How are you doing that?” I asked the little red-head to my right.
“How are you not doing it?” She arched her eyebrow and continued on.
Feeling defeated, I made a dash for my seat. Before I could make it, I felt a hand on my arm. Oh no. Instead of reeling me back in for more dancing, a girl smiled at me and placed a purple Leigh around my neck. Back at my table, I was greeted with a round of applause and kiss from Rob.
“How come you never dance like that for me?” Rob asked, leaning close. I just laughed and shook my head.
The woman to my left leaned over, slurring. “You’re young, live it up. Wear the Leigh when you do it—men seem to like that.” She winked at me and patted the man’s shoulder—I hoped, for her sake, that she actually knew him. I smiled at her before turning to Rob and making a face.
“What? I thought it was sexy.” He was laughing as he grabbed the sides of my tomato-red face and kissed me square on the lips.
“I’d like to you see you do that.” I gestured toward the stage and lawn filled with people dancing. The look on his face was challenging. Before I could tell him that I was kidding, he hopped up from the table and walked to the rest of the hula-ers. A shriek of laughter escaped my lips as I fumbled for the camera that was inside of my purse.
Rob stood there, shaking his hips and grinning like a fool. I made my way to the stage, my body shaking with laughter as I snapped pictures.
“Shake it baby, shake it!” I hooted over the other cheers of applause. Rob caught my eyes and beckoned for me to join him. I ran to his side without any hesitation.
He wrapped his hands around my waist and for the first time, we danced. It wasn’t coordinated, I don’t think it could even be qualified as actual dancing (although I did get an occasional twirl)—it was just two fools moving to Hawaiian music.
As the beat slowed after what seemed like eternity, Rob held me close. The sun blazed a brilliant red in the not quite dark sky. Torches had been lit and though dinner was officially over, nobody left. The music played on, tickling my ears as I rested my forehead against Rob’s.
“Someday I wish upon a star, wake up where the clouds are far behind me. Where trouble melts like lemon drops, high above the chimney tops, that’s where you’ll find me somewhere over the rainbow…well I see trees of green and red roses too. I watch them bloom for me and you and I think to myself, what a wonderful world.”
In that moment, I couldn’t tell where I began and he ended. I couldn’t even tell if we were still moving. He whispered the words of the famous song softly, his warm breathe dancing across my face. A light breeze rippled through the looming palm trees and I clung to Rob even more tightly as it rustled my skirt.
“Do we have to go home?” I didn’t want to go back to work. I didn’t want Rob to leave again. I wanted to stay right where I was forever.
“I wish the answer to that was no.”
“Can’t it be?” I sounded so desperate and it overwhelmed me. Tears started gathering in the corners of my eyes. It would be a lifetime before we’d have a moment like this again.
Not being an overly emotional woman, I attempted to laugh off my sudden sadness but it only made the tears fall. Rob looked at me, studying my expression carefully. I sniffed, making myself laugh again. He took my hands away from my face, wrapped them around his neck and wiped away the stray tear drops with his thumb.
“Don’t think about it.” He whispered, kissing my forehead tenderly and enveloping me inside of his arms. I squeezed my eyes shut, feeling embarrassed and childish. “I love you.”
“I love you too.”
By the time the music stopped for good, I could barely keep my eyelids from drooping. We’d been out since six o’clock that evening and my cell phone told me it was going on eleven-thirty. Without brushing my teeth or washing my face, I plopped down into the unmade bed. Opting to sleep in my tank top and underwear, I un-wrapped my skirt and threw it on the ground. Rob slid under the covers beside me and turned off the lamplight.
…
We spent the entirety of our last day at the beach. For dinner, we ventured outside the resort to find a restaurant that someone had mentioned the previous night. By the time we’d made it back to our hotel, stars stretched out overhead.