Chapter 12
Calvin
After Nikita disappears upstairs and Kendra mouths off about her before handing me a folder - yep, an entire folder - of the itinerary for the week, Kenneth drags me to have drinks with him. By the time lunchtime rolls around, I have yet to put anything of substance into my system. There is no saying no to Kenneth, especially when he plays the ‘it’s my wedding week’ card. However, I am thankful for the alcohol in my system when Britney finds her fiancé and he tells her about my new ‘girlfriend’.
“You have a new girlfriend?!” Britney gapes at me, her big eyes full of surprise.
Leaning back against my chair, I rest my arm over the empty one that is next to me. “I do.”
“And you brought her to our wedding without telling us?”
“Don’t I get a plus-one?”
“Violet was your plus-one.”
“And who was the one who ended it again?”
Britney opens her mouth to say something but quickly closes it, giving me a small amount of satisfaction. It isn’t always possible to avoid an argument with Britney.
“Have you told Violet?” Britney asks, eyeing me as she sips on her caipirinha - a specialty of the restaurant, according to the waiter.
I shake my head, “There’s nothing to tell. She broke up with me - something you are both well aware of, so I’m not sure why we have to keep having this conversation. Nikita and I aren’t here to cause drama.”
I can feel my anxiety creeping up on me again, rising at a rate I’m afraid I won’t be able to stop. I close the hand in my lap into a fist, pressing it shut as tightly as I can in an attempt to remain as composed as possible. Kenneth signals for our waiter, “Enough about this. We’re talking way too much and not drinking nearly enough.”
Eventually, I am saved by the bell when Kenneth’s brother, Paul, and a few of their cousins join the group. I use this as the opportunity to slip away. Classic Irish goodbye. I haven’t even had time to unpack my bag, or better yet - take a shower. Nikita was onto something with wanting to do that first, especially after all those hours of travel.
On my way back to the room I feel the alcohol freshly pulsing through my veins. I’m afraid of what that means for the rest of the week. I’m not sure if my liver will make it if Kenneth intends to continue like this.
I press down on the handle of the door, finding it locked and realizing I don’t have the key card. I knock on the door, “Nikita!” Waiting for a response or some kind of indication that she is inside, but there is only silence, so I knock again.
Still nothing.
Exasperated, I pull my cell phone from my back pocket and connect to the WiFi before I can dial her number. A couple of rings later, she answers with a firm, “What?”
“That’s no way to answer the phone.”
“I knew it was you.”
Knocking on the door again, “You locked me out. Open up.”
This time I hear movement from inside, “Say please.”
Instead of responding, I end the call.
That infuriating woman.
* * *
A moment later,the door opens revealing Nikita standing in nothing but a towel wrapped around her body, the string of what I assume to be her bikini wrapped around her neck with her phone and earphones in her hands. Now I get why she didn’t hear me knocking in the first place.
“What are you doing?” I walk past her into the room.
“I was trying to tan before you interrupted me.” She shuts the door and walks through the small lounge, heading towards the balcony. I had barely enough time to register the room when we first arrived, but she has already made herself at home. Passing the bedroom, her bright orange luggage catches my eye in the corner of the room. Shaking my head I head towards the balcony, noticing the view for the first time.
And what a view it is.
The sky is a brilliant shade of blue as it stretches endlessly overhead, not a cloud in sight. The sunlight like diamonds glimmering on the surface of the ocean where the waves are rolling gently.
“Stunning, right?” Nikita asks rhetorically, pulling my attention back to her. She continues moving as if my presence means nothing to her. Her next actions prove this by the way she removes the towel from around her body, revealing the thin material she called a bikini.
My eyes drop down her body following the curves of her golden skin, revealing to me that she is full in all the right places. She bends over, placing the towel on the lounge chair before straightening up, her eyes finding mine.
“What? Have you never seen a woman in a bikini before?” Shaking her head, she brings herself onto the chair, repositioning herself.
My mouth goes dry and I can feel the heat on me, not the kind that comes from the sun but rather deep beneath my skin. I have never had a physical reaction to Nikita before, but I had also never realized what she was hiding beneath those clothes of hers. My groin jumps to life.
I blame the alcohol for that. That is the only logical explanation for this.
She lifts her hand, shielding her face from the sun. “What’s that?”
“Hmm?” I snap out of my unexpected moment of weakness, scolding myself. I am going to need to have a one-on-one with myself to figure out where the hell that came from.
And not that kind of one-on-one.
She points at the folder in my hand and I glance down. “Oh, this.” I hand it to her, turning to lean my back against the railing of the balcony, “The itinerary for the week.”
Taking it from me, she pulls her knees up, using them to rest the folder against. “There’s an entire folder? Wow.”
“Indeed.”
Paging through it, her eyes widen as she takes in whatever she is seeing. “Have you read this?” I shake my head and she starts to read. “Champagne tasting, six pm.”
“Tonight?”
“Mm-hmm.”
I lean my head back, getting distracted by the way the sun feels against my skin. “How fun.”
“Tuesday - couples massage. OH! That sounds great!” Nikita exclaims.
“I could do with a massage.”
“Wednesday evening - rehearsal dinner,” She continues reading, “Thursday - Benagil cave boat ride.” The corner of Nikita’s lips pulls into an excited smile. “This is great. I wanted to do that last time I was here but I missed it.”
“When were you here?”
“For my twenty-third birthday. I came with some friends.” She flips the page. “Speaking of friends, what is up with yours?”
“What do you mean?”
She closes the folder and places it at the bottom of her chair, extending her legs to reposition herself. “You warned me about Kenneth’s brother, but you failed to warn me about Kenneth.”
“How does one warn someone about him?” I ask, not quite knowing the answer myself.
“Obnoxious, robust, way too touchy-feely. I’m not a fan.”
“Is that why you ditched me?”
“I didn’t ditch you. I told you I wanted to shower and that I needed coffee - now, I’ve had both and I’m ready to get my holiday on.”
“Oh, that’s what’s different!” I snap my fingers together, “You got your personality back.”
She lifts her head and I’d bet anything she is glaring at me from behind those shades. “Is there a reason you’re here? Don’t you have friends to catch up with?”
“Where do you think I’ve been for the past two hours?” I ask dryly, “Only one of us got out of Kenneth’s day-drinking invitation.”
“Your friend, not mine.” She drops her head and returns to her tanning, making it harder to divert my eyes from her. She oozes confidence and I find myself… attracted to that.
I turn to face the ocean, returning my focus to that view instead of Nikita. My gaze has started to linger a little too long and I need to stop that.
Silence settles around us for a moment as I take a deep breath in, allowing the fresh air that brushes past us to fill my lungs. I understand why people choose to live by the ocean - there is something peaceful about it. Whether it is through breathing in the fresh smell or enjoying the view, it certainly has an effect.
“We’ll leave here just before six tonight,” I say, turning back to Nikita who does not move to acknowledge me, “You’re off-duty until then.”
“Fan-freaking-tastic.”
I make my way back inside, leaving Nikita to her current activity as I start to feel uncomfortable that I haven’t showered as of yet. I cross the room and a pile of pillows on the couch in the lounge catches my eyes. I walk over and there sit three pillows and a blanket.
“Did you dump these pillows on the couch?” I shout to Nikita.
“Yes. You’re going to need them.”
Is she being serious?
I hate not sleeping on anything other than a bed - my bed. My six-foot-one frame makes it increasingly difficult to fit on any surface comfortably and looking at how this couch barely stretched in size, I already know I am going to struggle to sleep for the next week. I had already struggled to get any hours in on the plane, constantly shifting in and out of sleep. The exhaustion still hangs over me. Walking over to the sliding door, I peep my head outside again. “We can rotate.”
“Rotate?” she turns to face me, the dark glasses over her eyes making it impossible for me to see them.
“One night I get the bed, one night you do.” That is a reasonable arrangement in my mind.
“Absolutely not. This wasn’t my mistake.”
“This wasn’t mine either,” I reminded her. “Come on, Nikita, that’s only fair.”
“That bed is mine.”
“We could share it.”
She scoffs, lying back down. “You’re crazy.”
That isn’t my best suggestion, but I have a plan. Once she drifts off to sleep, I could slowly push her off the damn bed and take it for myself.
I sigh. If only.
“Fine, forget it, but I’m using it now to nap.”
She pauses for a moment, “I’ll allow it.”
I roll my eyes, not at all surprised by her belief that I need her permission, “I wasn’t asking.”
“But I’ve given you my permission anyway.”
“Which I don’t need.”
“But now you have it.”
I shake my head. “Must you always have the last say?”
“Says you,” she snaps, reaching for her earphones, “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have some relaxing to do before opening night.” Placing them in her ears, she dismisses me. I feel a flicker of frustration inside of me at how easily she manages to do that. The frustration is to be expected, but what takes me by surprise is the faint pulse in my groin.
Absolutely not.
Fungi. Tadpoles. My grandmother. Beds that haven’t been made.
My mind saves me by throwing out whatever thoughts it can to stop my mind from wandering any further. I need to get some sleep.