It was an especially hot day, considering they were nearing the end of summer. The sun was scorching, not hindered by even a hint of cloud, and heat seemed to cling to the air itself. Once the group got down onto the beach, Antonia promptly stripped off her shorts and t-shirt, down to her bikini, and climbed onto one of the cheap sun loungers near the volleyball net.
Michael pulled off his own shirt and threw it onto the end of her sun lounger, picking the volleyball up. "Hey. You not playing?" he asked in surprise. Antonia had more get up and go than anyone he'd ever met. She wasn't the type to voluntarily sit on the sidelines.
"It'll be three on three if you guys play," she said, stretching out on her front. "I'll watch."
Her teammates were fine with that and began taking up positions around the net, along with Steve and Eddy. Only Michael hung back. "Since when are you cool with just watching?"
"Since my mom wants me to wear a stupid backless dress for her stupid wedding. I've gotta even up my tan for it and I am not going on those stupid sun beds at the salon," Antonia grumbled. Being such a sport nut, she spent a lot of time outdoors, but also a lot of time kitted up. Her tan matched the lines of the sleeves and collar of her baseball jersey. She'd never cared about having an uneven tan before, but she had to admit it looked stupid in a dress.
Michael laughed. "Wow." Antonia was a total tomboy. He wasn't sure which was funnier; the idea of her having to wear a dress of the fact that she was having to tan for it.
"But..." Antonia dragged the cooler she'd hoarded out from underneath the sun lounger. "Sunbathing's not so bad when you have beer."
Michael rolled his eyes. Of course she'd found an upside. "Just save some for us, alright?"
Antonia grinned. "Only winners get beers. So play ball."
"Then save me a Bud," said Michael confidently, running across the sand to join the others.
Antonia folded her arms across the end of the sun lounger and rested her face on top, watching as her friends, boyfriend and his teammates played volleyball. It had been a while since her and Michael had passed the fine line love/hate relationship they'd first gone into. Now she could watch him with genuine affection, without feeling the need to take digs at him for being a brainless jock or having her blood boil over every little side comment he made.
She downed two beers whilst watching the game, stretching out lazily under the sun's scorching rays. She had it easy lying here. She could see the heat taking its toll on the guys as they played. All of them were breathing much harder now, stumbling more over the uneven sand. Those who'd started with their shirts on hadn't taken long to lose them too. Michael was positioned closest to where she was lying and, from the light of the sun bouncing off him, she could see the glisten of sweat as it ran in trails down the strong lines of his back.
It was bright enough that she'd had to wear sunglasses, but even with the tinted lenses protecting her vision, it was getting harder to squint against the sun, as it climbed higher in the sky. After finishing her second beer, she decided to close her eyes against the sunlight for a little while. She was sure she'd hear if anyone scored...
When she woke up, she felt groggy. Her limbs were stiff and one of her arms had fallen asleep from lying on it. Her mouth was dry, the aftertaste of beer still sitting on her tongue. The sun hurt her eyes through her shades, though she could tell it was much later from its position in the sky. How long had she been asleep for? Were the guys still playing?
Her question was answered by the volleyball flying over and hitting her square in the middle of her back. Pain shot through her body so suddenly and unexpectedly that she arched up, almost leaping off the sun bed. The movement pulled at her skin, which now felt incredibly tight and sore, so instead she flopped back onto her front, cursing none too quietly.
Michael came running over to retrieve the ball. "Shit, Antonia, are you alright?"
"Well, no; one of you assholes just hit me with the ball!" Antonia complained.
"No, I mean you're really sunburnt. You're red as hell."
She'd burnt? Antonia awkwardly reached a hand round to poke at her back. It was hot and sore to the touch, clearly not just from the impact of the ball. Whilst she'd been sleeping, she'd burnt to a crisp. No wonder the ball had hurt so much. As she moved her hand down, she found her back wasn't the only thing that was tender - so were her thighs and the cheeks of her butt, not quite covered by her bikini. She groaned. "I burnt my ass? Are you kidding?"
Michael laughed. "Well, if you happen to flash at your mom's wedding, at least you'll be more than tanned all over."
"Jerk," Antonia muttered. She watched as he began rummaging through the cooler, expecting him to pull out a beer, but instead he produced a bottle of sun cream. "Wow. Since when do you ever think ahead?"
Michael gave her a look. "Do you want me to help or not? Because I'm guessing you'll struggle to put this on yourself."
Antonia conceded grudgingly. "Sorry. I'll be good."
She gingerly shuffled over enough for Michael to sit on the edge of the sun lounger. He squeezed some of the sun cream out into his hand and applied it to her back. She jumped at first from the temperature difference, but she had to admit the cold cream felt good against her sore skin, as Michael massaged it into her burns, surprisingly gentle for him. He did seem to linger unnecessarily though, as he moved down past her back, his fingers smoothing long, languid circles of cream across the swell of her ass.
"Hey, hey, we're in public here," she had to reprimand him.
"Just making sure you're covered," he grinned, the look on his face not at all matching the innocence his tone was going for. Once he'd tended to all of the sunburn, he stood up and slapped creamy hands against his shorts. "So, do I get a beer now for all my good work?"
"That depends," said Antonia lightly. "Did you win?"
To her surprise, a scowl crossed Michael's face. "No," he admitted reluctantly.
Antonia laughed. "Seriously? You lost and I missed it? That's worse than getting sunburnt!"
In response, Michael slapped her ass with the flat of his hand. She squealed instinctively - an unusually girly sound for her. "You sure about that?" he smirked, blue eyes twinkling.
"I'm sure you definitely won't get a beer now," Antonia growled, pushing the cooler back underneath her sun lounger. She'd changed her mind; the love/hate relationship was back on.