5
Milo
A sound of pure frustration emanated from the microscopic water closet, followed by Cheryl stepping out in a towel and brandishing a razor. “Remind me again why I haven’t done laser hair removal. This shit is a nightmare. The last time I had this many nicks, I was a preteen and stole my mom’s razor.”
I glanced at her, long ago desensitized to her lack of clothes when she was getting ready. “Because we’re broke.”
“Yeah, well mama needs a sugar daddy, and it’s not happening without smooth legs. Milo, help me.“
She jutted out her bottom lip in an exaggerated pout, and I laughed.
“Ooh, sorry, babes, no can do,“
I said as I grabbed my beach bag from the twin bed I’d used the last two nights. Not that I minded helping her (yes, even shaving her legs, but that was when her dominant arm was in a cast), nor was it petty revenge for her abandoning me. I checked my reflection, making sure I’d rubbed in all the sunscreen. “I have plans. Remember?”
“OMG! That’s right, with Mr. Dreamboat.“
She shimmied her shoulders and almost flashed me when her towel slipped. Once she had it secured, she winked at me. “See what I did there?”
I turned around and rolled my eyes as dramatically as I could. “I’m going to revoke your pun privileges.”
She gasped and shimmied toward the bathroom. “You wouldn’t dare. Besides, no one can stop me! So, you can just float on outta here and see if your buoy can keep you up.”
“What is wrong with you?“
She was still cackling as I exited our stateroom. I shook my head, reminded myself that I secretly loved her atrocious puns, and made my way to the lower deck where I was meeting Casey.
It wasn’t until I was squished on the elevator with a bunch of other people eager to get their toes in the sand that the nerves hit. Despite my bravado with Cheryl, it had been a really really long time since I’d been on a beach. Now I was second-guessing my adamant refusal to buy new swim shorts for the cruise. Maybe I’d be able to sneak into a store before I met up with Casey by the dock.
I was still in my head about it as I was herded through the disembarking process. At least I didn’t have to worry about getting to an excursion checkpoint like the rest of the passengers milling around. I glanced around for shops—several of which boasted risqué swimsuits. Maybe too risqué.
All my dithering vanished though when I saw Casey walking toward me wearing board shorts that were giving my imagination all kinds of ideas, an open guayabera that displayed his tanned chest to perfection, and a colorful towel thrown over his shoulder. This man needed to come with a damn warning.
A smile stretched across his face as he angled toward me. Abruptly, I realized everyone could see me staring—including Casey. I reflexively wiped my face on the off chance I’d drooled (and could you blame me?) and plastered on a smile.
“Morning, Milo. Ready to get our sun on?“
Casey said as he stopped in front of me.
I laughed awkwardly and turned so we could make our way toward the prominent signs directing cruise passengers toward the beach. “If by sun you mean burn, then yes.“
Casey’s responding laugh helped put me at ease.
“I promise to lotion your back however often you need it.“
There was nothing suggestive about his kind offer to help prevent me from looking like a lobster, but that didn’t stop my brain from dropping into the gutter. Now all I could think about was Casey behind me, spurting a very different whitish substance on my back.
Aaand now my questionable swim trunks were uncomfortably tight. I pulled up short and quickly swiveled my beach tote to hide my predicament, pretending to look for something. This was just great. Now, thanks to my overactive imagination, I had to contend with my usual awkwardness and walking with a semi. Because that was totally at the top of my list of things to do today.
“Is everything okay?“
Casey asked after doubling back to where I’d abruptly stopped.
“What? Oh, yeah, fine. You’re fine. I mean, I’m fine.“
Was it too early to facepalm? I cleared my throat. “I was just, uh, looking for my hat? But I don’t seem to have brought it.” Yeah, that was believable.
Rather than tease me, Casey’s face brightened, and he unhooked something from his waist that I hadn’t noticed when I was ogling him before. “You can wear mine.”
“I couldn’t. It’s my own fault for forgetting. It’s not a big deal.“
Especially since I hadn’t packed a hat to begin with.
“I insist. Granted, it’s not the most stylish thing,“
he said as he placed a bucket hat on my head, then meticulously adjusted it. “There. Perfect.” I was on the verge of second-guessing his declaration when I realized he wasn’t looking at the hat at all. He was looking at me.
Butterflies fluttered in my stomach as we held each other’s gaze. Electricity seemed to crackle between us, and it was probably wishful (aka desperate, delusional, fanciful) thinking that he was leaning closer. It had been ages since I’d had a proper kiss, and Casey looked like he’d be damn good at it. A rowdy bunch of kids raced by, nearly sending us into the water. We shared an awkward laugh as we regained our bearings.
“Um, thanks for the hat,“
I said, toying with the drawstring hanging loose on my chest.
“No worries. Besides, you look cute.“
He flashed me a brilliant smile before taking my hand and tugging me back along the boardwalk. “Sun, sand, and saltwater, here we come!”
Thank goodness he was too busy weaving us through the crowd to notice the furious blush burning my cheeks. Not “the hat was cute”, me. I was cute and now he was holding my hand like he’d been doing it forever. He’d mentioned before that he was supposed to be here with someone. It was possible he was holding my hand out of reflex. But he hadn’t let go, and I wasn’t about to say anything that might make him.