Chapter 6
Six
current vice: short shorts
Max
‘Done anything you regret yet?’ Jude asks, sidling up to me. Or at least, as much as you can sidle up to someone when you’re
kneeling on a paddleboard on a windy day on the Atlantic.
‘Give me some credit,’ I reply, looking down at her, ‘I usually need at least a full day.’
‘Please, I’ve known you to make mistakes within an hour.’
She stops paddling and follows my gaze to Dylan standing up on her board, a little more confidently than when we first got
on to the water half an hour ago, politely nodding as Bertie talks to her from his own. She’s still in those offensively short
workout shorts. It should be illegal to have legs like that. It should also be illegal to cover them up, so I’m not sure where
that leaves me. Horny, probably. But, like, regretfully.
‘Quick question,’ Jude says, and I already hate whatever she’s about to ask. I attempt to paddle away, but she’s surprisingly
good at keeping up and I frankly don’t trust her not to flip me, so I reluctantly wait for her to get close again. ‘Have you
ever met a woman you didn’t want to sleep with?’
‘Hope you’re not slut-shaming me.’
She puts a hand to her chest. ‘I would never.’
‘I’m not a wild animal, you know. I am capable of restraint.’ I don’t stop looking at Dylan, though. It’s not like Jude doesn’t
know what I’m thinking. She was on the other end of it, years ago, when we were both terrible people with terrible habits.
‘You know, last night I suggested she have some fun on this trip with you.’
This is enough for me to turn around and glare. ‘Tell me you haven’t been trying to wingman me.’
She drags her paddle through the slate-grey water with a grin. ‘You should be grateful. I all but recommended your services.’
‘Wonderful. I always love offering women user testimonials. Really makes it feel legit.’ I tap my paddle to hers in a toast.
‘Much appreciated. Let me know when your Yelp review is up.’
‘You’re like a magpie. You cannot resist beautiful, shiny things.’ She looks at Dylan now too. The sun’s attempting to come
out, and it illuminates the lift of her nose and turns the dark- blonde of her hair to gold.
‘Wouldn’t be the first time you’ve wanted a woman who’s entirely out of your league.’
‘You cannot be talking about yourself. The only thing either of us wanted back then was to feel something. That wasn’t a crush, Jude, that was a trauma response.’
‘You mean two people with unhealthy coping mechanisms and a flagrant need for attention getting smashed at every event they
attended and following it with sex in a random Travelodge wasn’t the foundation for a match made in heaven?’
‘The idea of sleeping with you now feels a bit like the idea of sleeping with my cousin.’
‘A hot cousin, at least?’
‘Sure.’
‘My very favourite thing about you,’ she says through a sigh, ‘is that even back when I was a mess, I could look at you and know you were so much worse.’
‘Glad to be of service.’ Truthfully, I know there’s still a lot for me to work on, but I’m not as self-destructive anymore.
Nowadays, my spiralling is contained to short periods of time, in my own head, rather than dragging everyone around me down
like I did six years ago. When I think back to that version of me, I want to punch him in the face. But also give him a hug.
Then hit him again, because what the fuck?
I glance back at Dylan, which Jude notices.
Her gaze spears mine. ‘Are you sure your sister’s friend is the best person to latch on to this trip?’
‘Right, because you’ve never gone anywhere near one of your brothers’ friends.’
‘That was one time.’ A pause. She clears her throat. ‘That was two times.’
‘I don’t care if it was twenty times; it’s none of my business. Just like what I decide to do in my free time is none of yours.’
I suddenly remember what else she said. ‘And for the record, I don’t latch. I’m not a fucking limpet.’
I glare at her and she grins back. ‘No white picket fence in your future, then?’
‘I promise, a woman like that is not finding a happily ever after with someone like me.’
No one could find a future with someone like me. There are too many cracks beneath the surface for any kind of stable foundation.
But something for right now? Something that doesn’t need to last? From what Ava’s told me, Dylan needs to have fun and forget
about her ex, and I am nothing if not perfect rebound material. There’s no harm in making it clear to her that she has the
option, if she wants it.
‘No one’s ever died from flirting,’ I say.
At that moment, Dylan raises her bottle to her lips as our eyes lock over the waves, and she chokes on her water, spluttering
and looking away.
‘First time for everything,’ Jude murmurs.