Rock the Boat (17 page)

After another shit meeting with my manager on the ship, I can’t get to the bar fast enough. I’d rather sleep the afternoon away but with the way things ended with Dom and Gina, going back there is the last thing I want to do.

Aki’s working in the pub today which means free drinks, so that’s exactly where my ass ends up. One look at me and he slides my favorite whiskey across the bar. There’s no nursing the drinks today. No, today I pound them, one after another until the warmth I’m searching for finds me.

Just as I set my empty glass back on the bar, an annoying cackle of laughter makes me cringe. When I’m around the right people, I’m a happy as fuck drunk, but my luck has me next to a table full of Canadians—some of the happiest damn people on the planet.

I contemplate leaving the pub, just to get away from them, when a sexy blonde sits down at the opposite end of the table. Her eyes scan the crowd she’s with, but she’s as dead behind the eyes as I feel inside. She looks like she’d rather be anywhere other than where she is. And not one of them acknowledges her presence.

Like she senses me watching her, she turns her head, eyeing me from head to toe. Subtlety isn’t something I’m accustomed to, and her lack of it doesn’t even bother me. It takes her all of thirty seconds to slip out of her seat and into the stool beside me. “What’s your name?” she asks when I don’t make any attempt to speak to her.

“Does it matter?”

“Do I matter?” she challenges. There’s no doubt in my mind she would be the easiest lay I’ve had in a long time. Underappreciated chicks are always the fun ones. All that pent up sexual frustration being unleashed on me instead of the guy who should be taking care of her.

Aki slides another napkin in front of me before setting my refilled glass on top of it. He looks between the two of us, shaking his head as he does. “Don’t even tempt yourself, East. Not when you already have one.”

His voice of reason turns my attention away from the temptation sitting next to me. “Aki, you think so little of me.” But he’s right, I do have better. There was no way Canada was making it back to my bed, but I tip him double anyway as a silent thank-you for having my back.

She sees me drop the cash on the bar, probably wondering why it’s not going on my sea pass card like everyone else. When I push away from the bar top, she looks stunned. “Where are you going?”

I lean closer to her, my body brushing against hers. I’m so close, her hair tickles my lips. Slowly, so her confidence isn’t crushed, I tell her, “Sweetheart, if I was available, you’d be my first choice.”

Instead of disappointment, her eyes light up at the possibilities that will never be. I help her off her stool before turning around and walking out of the pub. Whoever gets a taste of her tonight is going to be damn lucky.

As soon as I’m out of the pub, the onslaught of sunshine is blinding. It used to ground me to the point I craved it. But after months of the same, it’s become routine like everything else in my life. And days like today when we’re at sea, there’s very few places to escape to, especially when all I want is some space to clear my head.

About a month ago, Gina and I found a private lounge on the tenth deck. Other than being used for private parties, it doesn’t get much use. But on a good day, usually right before or after an event, the bar is fully stocked. Being a sea day, there’s a fifty/fifty chance it’s empty, the possibility of a little peace and quiet making me walk that much faster.

I get lucky when I push on the door and am met with complete silence. Full bottles of Jim and Jack are on the shelf. Both have been good to me over the past couple years, but I grab the bottle already opened and line the bar with four shot glasses, filling them to the brim.

The first slides down my throat with the same familiar burn that’s kept me company more nights than I can count. I chase it with the second shot, another inferno erupting inside me. The third glass is in my shaky hand just as the doors open behind me. I expect a janitor or an event planner, but it’s neither. Gina rushes inside, hysterically crying. She catches her heel on the carpet, catapulting her to the floor in front of her. She falls on her hands and knees, her hair sticking to the tears rolling down her cheeks.

Dom finally told her the truth.

I let her get it out of her system, watching from the edge of the bar. But when she starts punching the floor with a closed fist, I move to stop her. She fights me at first, yelling a string of colorful curses before she realizes she’s not strong enough to stop me.

But she doesn’t give up. As soon as I set her down on the couch, she swings at my face, her fist hitting me square in the jaw. It knocks my teeth together, but she doesn’t make any effort to stop fighting. “Gina, it’s me. Stop it.”

As soon as she hears my voice, her body physically deflates in my arms. Instead of fighting me, she reaches out, latching onto my shirt. All I can do is rub her back as she lays her head in my lap, curling into a little ball of brokenness.

There are so many things I want to say to her, mostly that I’m sorry she didn’t find out sooner. I knew keeping the secret was wrong, but it didn’t seem right to tell her either. No matter what I did, one of my best friends was going to get hurt. And the last thing I could handle was another argument. It’s why I’m so relieved when she says, “I’m sorry I hit you.” If it was me she was mad at, she wouldn’t be apologizing.

“It’s not the first time I’ve taken a punch. Probably won’t be the last.”

“You smell like whiskey.”

“That’s because I’m drinking it.”

“You usually only drink whiskey when you’re thinking about Shay.”

When I don’t answer her, she raises her head, her puffy eyes searching my face for clues about what’s going on with me. “What happened, East?”

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that question?”

“Yes, but if you dumped Lark I’ll kill you, so why waste time with my problems if you’re just going to be dead anyway.”

I can’t help but laugh at her incredibly morbid outlook. “I’m seeing her tonight, relax.”

She wipes her tears on her sleeve, her eyes still shining, but a little more hopeful. “So, it’s going well? You like her?”

“Yeah, I like her. She’s a cool chick.”

“But do you see yourself falling in love with her someday? Or are you just using her for sex until she goes home? I’ll warn you, if you pick option two, I’m feeling pretty hateful right now. I can’t be sure I won’t punch you again.”

“The sex is fuckin’ incredible, but as far as more than that, I have no idea. It’s too soon to say one way or another.”

“Be honest with me. You must have told her something or she wouldn’t keep coming back for more.”

“I left it up to her—if she came back, great. If she didn’t, life goes on. But the plans for tonight, I made before she left this morning.”

“You’re so stupid, Easton. What if she had walked away before you had a chance to decide if you felt something for her which from the look on your face, I can tell you already do.”

“Whatever you think you see, I promise that’s not what it is. I’m more worried about you than Lark right now. What happened?” It’s wrong of me to play dumb. I know damn well what just happened between them.

“Dom happened, but finish this conversation first. You’re the only person left in my life who doesn’t bullshit me. It’s the reason I put up with your drama.”

“Well, since you put it that way.”

She smacks me, but she still manages to laugh—a genuine laugh that finally puts a hint of a smile back on her face. “If you can’t be honest with me, then be honest with yourself, East. It’s okay if you feel something for Lark. You’re human.”

“I think I need a couple more shots before I have this conversation.” I expect Gina to protest, but she surprises me when she follows me to the bar, grabbing a glass of her own from the stack on the shelf. Only she’s not a hard liquor kind of girl. Even though I’ve never seen her venture too far beyond beer, I pour her some whiskey anyway. “You’re sure you want to do this?”

“I need it,” she says, before she gulps down half of it, her hand holding the glass shaking like an addict in need of a fix. But as soon as the glass hits the bar, she covers her mouth with the back of her hand, gagging from its strength. “I can’t believe people pay for this shit. Why not just go suck down some gasoline instead?”

“Because it’s effective—numbs even the worst of days.”

“Why is this a bad day?” she questions, as she holds her stomach.

“I should ask you the same thing. Where’s Dom?”

Now that I’ve reminded her of why she was here in the first place, she looks to her glass like it holds the answers to her pain. “Probably screwing the rest of the dance team.”

“In his defense, you two were on a break.”

“Whose side are you on? Break or no break, it doesn’t make what he did right, Easton. In my heart, we were still together even when we were apart. I’ve never once quit him.” This time she ditches the glass entirely, instead going right to the source. Her lips wrap around the top of the bottle and she tilts her head back.

“Do you want a straw or something?”

Whiskey drips from her chin as she sputters to catch her breath again. “Shut up and let me drink. That’s why we come here, right?”

“Right, but you’re not usually such an angry drunk.”

“I’m angry because as mad as I am, I’m going to end up going back to him like he never had sex with someone else. Because I’m so in love with Dom, I’d probably hurl myself over the side of the ship if I had to wake up without him tomorrow. And that makes me the most pathetic person I’ve ever known.”

“You’re not pathetic. There was a time I’d have done the same damn thing.”

“What about Lark? Would you do the same for her?”

“What we have isn’t the same as you and Dom. I’m still getting to know Lark. It’s only been a couple days. But I’d have done the exact same thing with Shay. That much I’m sure of.”

“That’s the thing with you though. You don’t love easily, but when you do, you love so damn hard. I can tell you feel more for Lark than you’re willing to admit right now. And that’s okay because I see it in your eyes when I say her name. You think she’s capable of being on the same level as Shay someday, and that scares you shitless. Am I right?”

“I’m not denying I have a connection with Lark, but it’s the guilt I can’t stand. This morning, it felt like I was being strangled after she left the room. I keep asking myself if this is worth it because as great as it is to be with her—to be connected to someone again, I feel like Shay’s watching every move I make. And it makes me feel like the biggest asshole on the planet.”

“There’s no guilt, shame, or anger in heaven, Easton. You can have them both for eternity.”

“You’re talking out of your ass, slow down.” I reach for the bottle in her hands, desperate for another taste. I don’t want to think about heaven or Shay right now. I don’t want to think about anything at all.

As soon as I finish my drink, she pulls me to the couch by the windows. “You knew about the dancer, didn’t you?”

Just like her personality, her questions shift between the two of us so quickly, it’s hard to keep up. I had been hoping to avoid this conversation altogether, but I can’t lie to her. Not when she and Dom are more like family than my own. Looking her in the eyes as I admit the truth, only makes me wish I hadn’t known at all. “He told me.”

“Why didn’t you tell
me
?”

“I dunno, Gina. If I thought what he did was enough for you to end it with him, I’d have been the first one to stand up for you. He knows how I feel about it, but getting in the middle would have only made things worse. You found your way back together and that’s really all that matters. You’re both where you belong.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better? That just because we got back together, he was allowed to do whatever he wanted in the meantime?”

“No, but I watched him drink himself to the point of a blackout afterward. To me, that was punishment enough. He fucked up and he knew it. He didn’t make the same mistake twice. If you’re smart, you’ll get your ass back to the room, and get the makeup sex started.”

“Is it always about sex with you, East?”

“Not always. I like to sleep, too.”

“Fine, I’ll go back, but I’m going to need you to help me get there. I’m starting to feel like total shit thanks to your damn whiskey.”

I take her outstretched hand, setting the bottle on the floor and helping her up off the couch. “Do I need to carry you?”

“No, I’m okay.” She stands up slowly. Her legs wobble, practically sending her face first onto the dance floor in front of the sofa. “I’m good. I’m good,” she tries to convince us both.

I know she’s not as good as she’s pretending to be, so I wrap my arm around her waist, holding her close enough to my body so she doesn’t hurt herself. “Dom’s going to be pissed when he sees you like this.”

“He loves when I’m drunk—I’m easy.” She blows a piece of hair out of her eye, but her vision is only half the problem. It’s her uncooperative limbs that are taking all of her concentration. “

“I’d rather not know what you two assholes do on the other side of my wall.”