Chapter 1 #2
It was early, and I was standing in line to board my plane from Dallas to Miami.
I was excited but also nervous, preparing to go on my first cruise.
From Miami, I was sailing out to the Bahamas for a four-night excursion.
This was supposed to be a couples’ trip, but with my recent divorce from Timothy behind me, I was here celebrating as a newly single woman.
We were supposed to be meeting up with a few other couples we were friends with, so I decided to get with the travel agent and see about changing the dates on my trip to avoid them.
Thankfully, she was successful, for a fee, of course.
The flight to Miami was smooth, as was transportation to the departure location at the port.
Passengers were standing around with their luggage, getting checked in.
As I was walking toward my assigned cabin on the massive cruise liner, I felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.
I brushed off the shiver that tumbled through my body and entered my space for the next few days.
I took a deep breath and sat on the bed, taking a moment to decompress and release all the recent baggage I’d been dealing with.
A few rounds of square breathing calmed me in this solo adventure that I’d embarked on.
Before doing anything, a hot shower was a must. I unzipped my suitcase and pulled out my toiletry kit.
Stepping into the attached bathroom, I turned on the standing shower to practically scalding.
Hot showers relaxed me. Gathering a towel and washcloth from the linens, I set the towel to the side along with the washcloth and my honey-scented body wash and shampoo.
Stark white space and a checkered tile floor surrounded me, so I took a moment to stand in the steam developing around the bathroom.
Memories of what led me here alone flooded in, but I batted them away, determined to enjoy this trip.
Just as I was about to undress, a crash sounded from the hallway. I was going to mind my business, but then a familiar voice had my ears perking up.
“It couldn’t be,” I murmured to myself.
“Dammit, dammit, dammit!” I heard again.
I moved to peek outside my cabin’s door and saw a woman in a short, pink floral romper with curly red hair and freckles bent over, trying to fix the strap on her wedge heel. Her suitcase was toppled over with a broken handle. Terrible luck.
“Excuse me, do you need any help?” I called out to her.
The woman, in all her voluptuous curves, bolted upward and turned to look at me, her crystal-blue eyes wide as the open ocean outside my window. I gasped and stared open-mouthed at her, my suspicions confirmed about the familiar voice I’d overheard.
“Jackie?” “Sarah?” we questioned simultaneously.
I perused her body, probably not as subtly as I’d hoped, and felt a flicker of something.
I took in the thickness of her thighs, wide hips, and obvious soft roundness of her midsection.
Her chest wasn’t very big, but the rest of her shape more than made up for it.
And the endless array of freckles just like I’d recalled.
When I got up to her heart-shaped face, I noticed a slight smirk on her pouty lips, the cupid’s bow barely there.
Without a stitch of makeup, her eyebrows and fluttering lashes matched that copper shade of her wild curls.
My heart was beating wildly in my chest, and I shot my gaze back up to meet hers.
She was still looking wide-eyed, even with that quirk of the right side of her lips. Like a deer caught in the headlights.
“Shit, I’m sorry,” I said, shaking my head to regain focus and confused by the reaction swirling inside me, “Let me help you. Where’s your cabin?”
“Oh, um, just right here,” she pointed to the room two doors down from mine.
Two. Doors. Down. From. Mine. “I was about to unlock the door when the handle on this old-ass suitcase snapped, and I twisted my ankle on these damn wedges. This trip is already starting out fabulous, huh? All I wanted to do was get away from work and life for a little bit and see some sights, but the Universe seemed to have other plans.” She rambled and went to remove both shoes, and I rushed forward to bring her luggage upright so I could haul it into her room.
“Um, Sarah, you know this cruise is only four days, right? How much did you pack in this thing?” I teased. Her fucking bag weighed a ton.
“Well, I might have also packed a few books. You know me, always with my head in between the pages, and I couldn’t decide on just one.” This time, her smile was soft and shy, almost embarrassed, though I was always the shy one before.
“A few?” I chuckled nervously, remembering our easy friendship from high school before things turned sour. “Right, Miss Bookworm. Well, I’ll let you get settled. See ya around.”
Sarah sighed cautiously. We hadn’t really been friends in a long time and seeing each other in such close proximity for the next few days wasn’t going to be easy, even on this giant ship.
But still, neither of us moved. I hung my head, trying to figure out what else to say.
I know our estrangement was mostly my fault.
I’d messed things up. Let a boy come between us.
I ran a hand through my short, brown hair–recently chopped off into a bob–and turned back toward the direction of my own room. So much for a relaxing vacation.
Seeing Sarah threw me completely off kilter, so I returned to the hot shower I had planned.
Under the burning spray, my body began to loosen, clearing the tailspin my head and heart were in.
As I was standing there, I let my mind wander to that night of the party.
That game of spin the bottle. The way my body reacted to our quick kiss was something completely unexpected and foreign.
We were only sixteen years old, still learning about ourselves, and it took me by surprise that a kiss from my good friend, another girl at that, would have my body reacting the way it did.
I felt this spark, like when you touch something and get shocked by static electricity.
It was the weirdest feeling. I didn’t know what to think so I bolted out the front door, embarrassed.
I was also worried someone at the party would tell Timothy, and nothing good could come from that.
After scrubbing my body from head to toe and shampooing my hair with the volumizing formula the beautician at the salon suggested, I turned the silver handle on the wall to the “off” position and unfolded the soft towel to dry off.
I wrapped it around my body and sat back on the bed, considering my itinerary for this trip.
I was usually a major planner, but I wanted to try to just go with the flow for a change.
I may have researched what the trip’s package offered, but I was trying my best not to be so, particular, this time around.
To-do lists were one of my love languages.
They tended to help manage stress and anxiety when I could foresee what my day held.
Unfolding the towel from my body, I hung it back in the attached bathroom and went to pick an outfit for dinner.
Before dressing, I rummaged in my things for my vanilla-scented lotion and moisturized all over.
I suddenly felt a hunger pang and some jitters, and if I waited too much longer, I’d be hangry.
Irritability reared its ugly head when my blood sugar got low.
Along with PCOS, I also had type II diabetes.
Just to make sure, I pulled out my glucose meter and prepped it to check my current levels.
I used an alcohol wipe to cleanse my fingertip and pricked it with the lancet.
Dropping a tiny bit of blood onto the testing strip, I waited for the number to show on the screen: seventy-five.
Low enough that I needed to at least take a glucose gummy so it wouldn’t crash before I was able to eat a full meal.
I popped the gummy and proceeded to dress in the clothes I’d picked.
Coral, sleeveless jumpsuit with a plunging neckline that showed plenty of cleavage, along with my pudgy stomach and hips and gold sandals adorning my feet with matching toenail polish.
I kept my makeup simple with a tinted moisturizer, a peachy blush and lipstick, and popped my lashes with some brown mascara.
After checking my whole look, appreciating every inch of my body, I flung my gold and brown crossbody bag over me and made sure I had everything I needed.
I was ready to fill my growling stomach with some scrumptious food, and maybe a real drink. I’d earned it.