Chapter 7
chapter seven
Nate snores when he sleeps. He woke up before I did yesterday, but this time, I get to steal the moments before he’s awake. I have no idea if his snores are because he’s scrunched up to fit on the love seat or if it’s something that popped up in the last few years.
There’s not much I don’t know about him.
I’m determined to make it nothing .
That’s the only logical reason I have for watching him as the sun rises, filling the room with light.
I didn’t sleep well the night before. I never do in a new environment. I tossed and turned, trying to find a comfortable position until I settled for watching my best friend sleep.
Shortly after the sun rises, he starts to stir.
“Fuck,” he mutters, his voice thick. He can’t even stretch out on the couch. “That sucked.”
“Have regrets?”
Nate jumps and his gaze meets mine. “I should’ve known you’d be awake.”
“Yeah, yeah. I hate sleeping in new places, but the bed was so comfy. You could—” I’m stopped when a pillow hits me right in the face. “Rude.”
“Don’t gloat at a man in pain.”
“You did this to yourself. I’m allowed to gloat.”
He flips me off before he slowly stands. “Cover your ears.”
I yelp and do what I’m told. For some reason, I also cover my eyes, going for complete sensory deprivation. I give him more than sixty seconds before I peek to see if he’s back. When he’s done, my cheeks are on fire. “You could have told me to leave.”
“And have you move from your comfy bed? Never.”
“Joke’s on you, I have to leave the bed anyway. I need food and coffee.”
Nate laughs as if he knew that was exactly what I was going to say, and then gets new clothes for the day. I do the same and shuffle into the bathroom to change into a longer pair of shorts and a light green shirt.
“Now you look like you’re in vacation mode.”
“I’m trying to be. I might still go for a run later.”
“How the hell are you not sore?” he asks.
“I am. I still do it anyway.”
He shakes his head as we walk out of the suite and down to the smoothie bar. I stare at the menu for far too long, trying to decide what to get.
“I guess I’ll be basic,” I mutter.
“The berry blast looks good.”
“It doesn’t even say what kind of berries are in there.”
He shrugs. “I like berries.”
My mind instantly goes to my nickname. Did he mean it in that way, or is the proximity slowly infecting my brain?
“I’m getting something I know I won’t hate. Strawberry banana.”
“Didn’t you burn yourself out on those in college?” he asks.
“Sure did. Still don’t love them, but it’ll work.”
Nate hums as we get close to the front and put in our orders. Once it’s done, we hit up the coffee shop to get two drips, and then find a seat outside. The sun is hot and I have to quickly sip on my smoothie to avoid it melting.
“So, what’s the verdict?” he asks.
I taste the strawberries and bananas, but it’s muted. It’s exactly what I expected it to be. “It’s fine.”
“Would you like to try mine?” he asks. His is brightly colored, looking almost red in the light.
“What’s in that?”
“Still don’t know, but it tastes good.”
I’m tempted to say no. Usually, I don’t like trying new things, but if Nate likes it, then it might not be so bad.
When I taste it, I immediately notice raspberries and blueberries. It’s more tart than mine, but I love tart fruits. If it had granola on top, it would be close to my favorite acai bowl I have back home.
My shoulders slump and Nate shoots me a look. “Do you hate it?”
“No,” I mutter. “It’s so fucking good.”
“Imagine that.” He laughs as he reaches over. I think he’s going for his own cup. Instead, he grabs mine. “I’ll take this.”
“It’s nothing special. I wouldn’t even try it.”
“Oh, I’m not trying it, berry. I’m taking it. You can have mine.”
“What? Why?”
He shrugs. “You like that one more.” Nate says it as if it’s nothing, and I have no doubts that, to him, it isn’t. This is simply the man that he is. He’s annoying but caring. I know that he only wants others to be happy.
And he’s one of the few who makes me happy.
“Thank you,” I say. “I should have branched out in the first place.”
“You like what you know. Until the moment you know something else is better. I have a feeling you’ll be getting that tomorrow.”
I can only nod and pull the cup closer. Nate laughs and goes back to his smoothie. His gaze moves from me to other people around. He’s people watching. I can’t help but follow his gaze. What does he think of the people around us? And why do I want to know so badly?
There’s a group of shirtless men in the pool playing with a beach ball. They’re yelling and tackling each other as if it’s the most important game of their lives. A few women are sunbathing, and others are going up to the running trail.
I finish my smoothie and then my coffee as we watch. Nate doesn’t look twice at anyone, but I wonder if that’s simply for my sake. He’s been glued to my side the entire time we’ve been here.
“Well, I think it’s time for me to take my leave.”
Nate’s brow knits. “What?”
“I’m gonna head out. I was thinking of checking out the massage parlor.”
“I’ll go with you.”
“This is a perfect day to swim.” I gesture at the pool. “Or meet people. You’re always good at that.”
“Are you trying to get rid of me?”
“I’m trying to tell you that it’s time for you to do something you want to do.”
“What if I say I want a massage?”
I scoff. “I know how you are about touching.”
He lowers his eyebrows. “How am I about touching?”
I lean in and go to put my hand on his shoulder. He jerks back.
“ That ,” I say, “is what I mean. I highly doubt you want a massage therapist touching you. So have fun in the pool.”
I walk away before he can stop me, trying to feel pleased that I called him out like he does to me all the time.
Instead, there’s a distinct discomfort in my breastbone that I try to ignore. It’s okay that Nate doesn’t want to touch anyone, including me.
Isn’t it?
It’s hard to worry about Nate when I’m getting pampered by a massage therapist. All of my muscles are loose by the time I decide to relax in a sauna.
For a while, I’m blissfully alone, my mind is empty, and it’s exactly what I need.
Then the door opens and a woman walks in.
I scoot over for her, determined to go back to my own relaxation. She’s older than me, maybe by a decade, and she’s in a towel that shows off the nicest pair of boobs I’ve ever seen. I’m torn between being jealous and cheering her on.
She glances at me with a raised eyebrow and I look down, immediately wishing I’d kept them shut.
“You can look. I might not be into women, but I don’t care.”
I want to melt into the floor. “Sorry,” I say.
“I’m being serious. Plenty of people stare, and I’m too old to give a fuck. At least you were polite about it.”
“Honestly, I’m just jealous.”
“Usually people get catty when they’re jealous. Thank you for being nice instead.” She gives me a once-over. “You’re not bad yourself. I’d hit on you if I swung that way.”
I’m about to hide, but she’s smiling at me in the same way Nate does. She must be enjoying this.
“Thanks, but—” I’m about to say I’m taken, but I’m not anymore. “Uh, I also don’t swing that way.”
She hums. “Are you one of the few single people on the cruise?”
“Technically, yes. I was supposed to be on my honeymoon. ”
Her blue eyes go wide. “And you came alone?”
“No, with a friend.”
“That was sweet of them.”
“He’s a good guy.”
“Guy, huh?”
A prickle of discomfort makes its way into my stomach. I can’t handle another insinuation. I just can’t. “Just a friend,” I insist.
“Is he in the men’s sauna?”
“No, he’s doing whatever he wants to right now.” I wave as if it’s casual. I haven’t thought about what he’s up to, but now it’s all I want to think about.
The woman stares at me, and I swear she’s looking right through me. I barely know her, but I have an inkling she’s not someone to mess with.
“I’m Scarlett,” she says as she holds out a hand.
“Maisie.” When I shake hers, her grip is so strong she nearly pulls me off the seat.
“If your friend is busy, I don’t mind being arm candy,” she replies. “I came alone.”
“Wouldn’t you want time to yourself if you came alone? I don’t want to impose.”
“Sometimes it’s nice, but it’s also fun to meet a friend on board, especially one who has such a fun story.”
“It’s not that fun.”
“Did you keep the same suite?” she asked.
“Um, no?”
She laughs. “So, that’s a yes. How awkward is it?”
“A little, but we’re making it work.”
“Interesting,” she replies.
“Do you make a habit of finding fun stories on a boat?”
“I can’t help it, I’m afraid. I’m a therapist and I love a good story.”
Oh, great. I’m getting stared down by a trained professional. This is just my fucking luck .
“I’m afraid I’ll let you down with mine. Nothing’s gonna happen. It hasn’t for nearly two decades.”
“At the very least, we can talk about the guys. I mean, did you see the group of them playing ball in the pool?”
“They were . . . loud.”
“They were hot,” she corrected. “Did you not notice?”
“I did.” I didn’t. I haven’t looked at a man since I met Rob. I didn’t have a reason to.
Until now.
“Somehow I doubt that.” Her tone isn’t judgmental, but soft. “How long were you with your ex?”
“Ten years.”
“It takes a bit to adjust to being single again, you know.”
“I’m guessing you’ve seen it in therapy?”
“I’ve lived it. Contrary to what my friends think, I don’t try to use therapy talk on everyone.” She winces. “Mostly. It slips out. I’m sorry if it has.”
“All you’re doing is reminding me that I need to talk to someone eventually. I have ... problems.”
“Exes will do that to you.”
“How long until I feel normal again?”
“Normal is a social construct. What do you want to feel?”
I want to feel like the girl I was in high school. When it was just Nate and me. When he touched me and didn’t think about it. Before life got in the way.
“I don’t know.”
“Let me let you in on a secret. Take it one day at a time. It’ll happen before you know it.” She winks and leans back, relaxing immediately.
I try to return to the calmness I had before, but it evades me. My mind’s eye decides to play the way Nate flinched when I reached for him over and over again.
And I don’t know why I’m so stuck on that.