Brandon cozied up to his Bahama Mama at the bar wishing the drink came with a pair of firm Bahama breasts like the ones on his waitress, when a pair of full Ds sat down beside him.
“Guess who I saw in the bathroom?” The 24-year-old over tanned, petite girl said widening her raccoon eyes. “Our friend,” she said waiting for acknowledgement.
Brandon didn’t know this girl and hadn’t even seen her around the resort, but when a drunk girl in a bikini top and tiny sheer sarong bottom sits down next to you at a bar in the Bahamas, you play along.
“Really?” Brandon replied not knowing how surprised to react.
“She’s wearing the hat again. I followed her for five minutes and she was hitting on this really young local guy. She’s on the prowl,” the girl said with a smile. “She’s got island fever; he’s got island fever; they’ve got island fever. They’re in love,” she sang with a smile.
“Hey Baby why’d you leave our table? Were gonna lose it, baby,” she said rubbing up against him.
To Brandon’s regret, he realized that her forwardness wasn’t the girl’s way of hitting on him. It was a case of mistaken identity. “I didn’t have a table,” he said allowing her to figure out the mistake on her own.
The girl squinted her raccoon eyes at Brandon. “Where did you get this shirt? That’s not the shirt you were wearing.”
Brandon waited for a second sure that even her rum punch filled mind would soon make the connection. When it didn’t happen he helped her along. “Um, I think you’ve mistaken me for someone else,” he said with a smile.
The girl wobbled a little squinting again at Brandon. She smiled with realization. Leaning over on top of him she slipped her hand between his legs and grabbed onto his package. “Yeah, then maybe we should go back to my room before my boyfriend gets back.”
Brandon had no idea what to do. Had she realized her mistake or not, he wondered. But in either case considering that his girlfriend dumped him after he bought the nonrefundable tickets, it felt nice to have a girl’s petite hand palm his crotch as a reward. Besides, Brandon always found it hard to resist a girl that smelled like jasmine.
“So you want to go back to my room, stranger?”
Brandon went with it. “Yeah.”
The girl leaned over and slowly placed her tongue in his mouth. Brandon let go and felt the newness of the tongue that danced with his. He liked it.
After a short moment the girl pulled away and stared at Brandon. She squinted again and then without a word, got up and looked around curiously. Stumbling a little she walked away. Brandon watched her stumble around the room and then turned back to his drink with a smile. This would be the story he told his friends when he got back home, he decided.
Brandon turned around when he heard the girl’s voice again. With her hands over a man’s eyes she led the man to the stool next to Brandon’s. With him seated she spoke. “Okay, are you ready, baby?”
“Yeah I’m ready, sweets,” a familiar sounding voice said back in a Georgia accent.
“Okay, look.”
The girl removed her hand and Brandon got a good look at him. Brandon got an instant flash of recognition. He knew this man. He had seen him before. Oh wait, no I don’t, he thought. Oh my god, he looks exactly like me.
“Don’t you see it, baby? You two could be twins. You kiss nothing alike though.”
The man turned back toward the girl. “Wait, you kissed him, sweets?”
The girl took hold of her boyfriend’s face and turned it toward Brandon. “Look at him. Just look at him.”
The man looked at Brandon a little longer, then without a warning a flash went off in his eyes. “Holy fuck!” The man said. “Jesus Christ, you look exactly like me. Are you some sort of spy or something?”
Brandon smiled because he knew exactly what the man was referring to. He had seen the Mission Impossible movies where the spies put on masks to look just like the person they were about to kill.
“Do I look like Tom Cruise?” Brandon asked with a smile.
“That’s the point. You could be.”
Brandon smiled again. “No, I’m not Tom Cruise.” Brandon stuck out his hand. “Brandon Fox.”
“Holy fuck, seriously? Braden Thompson.”
“Oh that’s funny,” Brandon said shaking a strong, yet surprisingly soft hand. Brandon would have preferred to have soft hands, but the nonslip area on the weight bars at his gym had always taken their toll. Brandon liked the way Braden’s hand felt in his. Through it he could feel an instant magnetism between them. It was like an invisible force that pulled them together preventing them for taking their eyes off one another.
“Twenty eight years old?” Brandon asked jokingly.
“Twenty eight,” Braden replied shocked. “January 15th?”
“Oh that’s spooky. January 13th,” he said with a smile.
“That’s so weird. Isn’t that weird, baby?” The girl interjected. “Could you imagine if there were two of you?” She said wrapping her arms around her boyfriend’s chest. “Man, I would love to see you two get it on.”