Chapter 13
THIRTEEN
“I lost my virginity on a boat.”
Jack put the truck in park and turned his head with a Scooby-Doo huh sound.
The fact that he was dressed like an undercover cop from the early nineties in LA only made the move more comical.
Benny had barely kept a straight face when Jack had come back out of his apartment earlier, sporting a pair of swimming trunks striped neon orange, green, and purple with a short-sleeved button-up left open over his torso.
And happy trail exposed and fantastically happy.
He imagined a tattoo on Jack’s toned stomach with an arrow pointing downward with text that said Ride at Your Own Risk.
An image that had him feeling all kinds of awkward on the drive between Jack’s apartment and Live Oak Launch.
It was only after he reminded himself that Jack had spent several hours alone with him the day before and hadn't tried to re-create their kiss, or more—which was good considering they had been in Roger’s future baby’s nursery—that Benny let go of his thirst and thought about the future.
Which, if Carol was around, would probably include an embarrassing story about Benny's past.
Because he had, for whatever reason, decided to blog about everything.
And she might have said she didn’t have the time to read it, but Benny doubted that was actually true.
“I lost my virginity to this guy on his family's boat when we were seventeen,” Benny dove in, body turned to face a wide-eyed Jack.
“We were your average horny teens and thought that we would just die if we didn't do the deed. His family had this little speedboat and a dock where it was tied off at, and we decided that was where we could do it without being caught. So we waited until it was night and I snuck out to meet him there.”
Jack was starting to grin.
If he was looking for a salacious story, Benny was about to disappoint him.
“I was so nervous beforehand though that I'd searched online for a what to expect kind of thing and read way too many forum posts. Then Ethan even had us watch this video to help calm his own nerves about me doing it—don't ask why he was nervous, best friend solidarity, I guess—when Callum walked in on us watching it together and I’m pretty sure if being flustered could kill you, he would have gone straight to ground then. It was mortifying.” Benny paused, remembering. “Though, later that night, Callum did offer to talk about it if I needed to. He’d also done some research. Which I turned down but thanked him for. See? I’m not lying when I say he’s a good brother. ”
Jack nodded, still grinning. “That actually is pretty sweet of him.”
“Yeah, well, all that prep didn't help much.” Benny could feel a new kind of mortification greasing his wheels. Had he not put it out for the entire world to know already, he wouldn’t be saying a ding dang word about this now.
“So, this guy didn't bring a blanket for the night, and I was too nervous to bring anything other than, thankfully, the condom and supplies. Which meant the only spaces we had that weren’t insanely uncomfortable to thrust against were the two cushions on the captain's and passenger's chairs.
And they weren't even next to each other.” Benny shook his head.
“Anyway, we ended up doing this awkward tangled-up thing sitting on the captain's chair and it wasn't pretty. And then, at one point, the steering wheel thing, which was this weird U-shape, dug into my back and hurt like hell. I yelled out at it and, well, this guy thought I was yelling because I was happy and that kind of led him to a…happier end.”
Jack devolved into laughter.
Benny waited for him to finish before continuing, something his boat companion had not done.
“We dated for a bit after that, but we both realized that we had just gotten swept up in that whole teenaged lust thing. And, since there wasn’t another steering wheel part to help me fake it, it became obvious we weren’t exactly compatible.
I never told him about how miserable my experience was, though, even after he actually congratulated himself on our first times being so great.
I also definitely didn't tell him about the steering wheel part.”
Jack’s grin had died down sometime between the words “lust” and “steering wheel.”
Now his brow was arched high.
“Okay, so why are you telling me this now?” he asked. “Not that I mind getting these little Benny insights while my nips are out and the Robertsons are waiting somewhere in the distance.”
Benny closed his eyes for a moment. Maybe if he couldn’t see the world and its problems, the world couldn’t see him and his.
He sighed at the lack of reality in that hope.
When he spoke again, it was in his smallest I know mistakes were made voice.
“Because I wrote about the whole thing on DearMe.”
“You wrote about it on DearMe,” Jack repeated. “The whole thing?”
Benny nodded.
“Steering wheel and all.”
Jack whistled long and low.
“In my defense, that whole situation was a big deal for me, and the blog at the time was absolutely private,” Benny amended.
“With no intention of it ever, ever going public. Though, just in case, I did change his name, so I wasn’t one-hundred percent insane.
Just like a ninety-seven.” That being said, the identity of Guy might have been the holy grail of mystery in his life but “Rudy” would be easy to suss out if anyone took the time.
Benny was almost grateful for the world’s focus on Guy.
“And you’re bringing this all up now because you’re nostalgic or—”
“Or I can't imagine Carol not mentioning it today. In front of everyone.”
Jack was solemn with his nod.
“Yeah, I can see that. Might have been why she insisted on coming with us on the boat in the first place.”
Benny groaned from his shoes to his teeth.
“I should have deleted the whole dang blog years ago. I guarantee that I'd never have to deal with Carol on a boat if I had.”
Jack’s voice swung low.
“True.” His grin was back. “But then you’d be deprived of seeing me in all of my boat glory.”
He leaned in.
It was close enough that he bet Jack could smell his sunscreen.
Benny was grateful he couldn’t smell his panic at what he said next.
“And I can promise you,” Jack rumbled. “Unlike others? I don’t need steering wheel assist.”
Benny nearly died on the spot.
Movement outside of the truck, however, stalled his response.
Carol and child-size sunhat 2.0 moved into view on. She gave them a little trickle of a wave from the sidewalk that led to the boat ramp.
“Did we say her name three times already and accidentally summon her?” Benny grumbled.
Jack joined in.
“I wouldn’t give us that much credit. My money’s on she’s been waiting here since dawn, lying in wait for her next victims.” Jack put his hand on Benny’s knee and squeezed once. “Let’s go feed the beast.”
His hand was warm and strong and then immediately absent as Jack went about exiting the truck.
The panic that had been of a different nature moments before began to transform into a familiar kind of stress.
Much like the lunch at the garden, Benny hadn't been one-hundred percent on what to wear. Sure, living on the bay meant he had a few swimming trunk options, but the moment of crisis over a top had been a bit ridiculous even by his standards. Jack had gone open button-up. Modern Miami Vice. Chic but he hadn’t tried.
Benny had worried himself into a partially mesh, wholly neon blue tank top that showed the world he too could walk an 80s beat alongside his effortless partner-in-crime. It was only by the grace of forethought that he’d packed his black swimming trunks to ground the outfit.
Though Benny realized as they walked up to Carol that between the three of them, he seemed to be the one showing the most leg.
Apparently he’d sacrificed loud color for dress code-breaking length.
Which Jack was quick to note.
He whistled and, in front of God and Carol, openly looked down at Benny’s legs.
“I know I just touched your legs in there, but to see them?” He whistled again. “I think this should be the length of all of your shorts from now on.”
Benny pushed at Jack, not at all trying to be cute but absolutely hoping to make him exit the vicinity, while Carol laughed lightly in her white knit crop top and tired teal shorts.
Over her shoulder, Felicity’s yellow sundress could be seen like a beacon from her spot on the dock. Ruby and Marcus were more modest.
“Well, I officially apologize for the interruption,” Carol said in greeting.
“But I have to say this kind of interaction makes me even more excited to spend time with you two this afternoon.” She nodded toward the dock.
“It’s always so fun to see how different pairs of lovebirds…
lovebird when there’s nowhere else to go. ”
Benny smiled so big it hurt.
Jack had a moment of being less polite.
“The way you’re talking makes it sound like you’re about to cram us into some kind of bird cage there, Carol.
” He shouldered Benny’s bag with one hand and intertwined his fingers with Benny’s with the other.
“I’m not sure how you usually have fun, but maybe try being less ominous next time.
Almost gave me goosebumps and everything. ”
Carol made a noise—grumpiness or humor ready to be faked, he didn’t know—but Jack had already started to pull Benny along with him so he couldn’t figure it out.
Not that he had the mind to do so.
Jack’s hand didn’t linger.
Instead, he warmed Benny long before the sun had a chance to.
Sunshine, tan lines, and Jack quietly grumbling about the lack of bellinis started the group's, in total, four-hour tour.
It was nice in the beginning and the tension in Benny started to lessen the farther away from Live Oak Launch they got.
It turned out that the pontoon boat didn't belong to the Robertson family as a unit but was Marcus's alone. Jack had asked several questions about its make, model, and even the deals he’d gotten on the used parts to build it, and Marcus had been more than enthused to answer each.
Benny glazed over the first details but found it heartening that Marcus had worked hard to purchase the boat two years ago and had rebuilt and repaired several parts on it.
Ruby had commented that the Robertson parents had higher-end boats that they probably would have given Marcus had he asked.
Carol agreed.
Marcus?
That hadn't been for him.
“There's a feeling of pride when you fix the thing you spent the day before cussing at,” he'd said. “I can't get that with the new, shiny things.”
Jack had agreed with that wholeheartedly. He didn't have a boat, but his uncle did. It was a junker, and that topic alone carried the two men for twenty minutes, talking like they weren't sitting in the middle of a boat filled with people who had more skin exposed than covered.
Benny had liked that time, pressed up against Jack on one of the cushioned benches and feeling the rumble of his words vibrate against his side.
Jack had made the close proximity move first, for looks no doubt, but Benny hadn't bothered to shift an inch since.
Instead he'd sipped on a Coke, listened to the guys, and soaked up the sun, letting the view of the water distract him from time to time.
Even Carol and Ruby stayed in their own bubble, while Felicity more or less did the same as Benny, listening to Jack and Marcus and daydreaming in the sun when her attention strayed.
It had been nice.
And, for a moment, Benny had forgotten the blog, the festival, and that Jack Knox was just putting on an act when he snaked his arm around him and let it relax across his waist.
But then the shark in high-end lip gloss had gone and opened her mouth.
Marcus cut the engine near what locals called Floater's Cove, a wide passage of water that ran parallel to a stretch of beach.
There were already two boats in the distance with a few swimmers going between them and a set-up of beach umbrellas, towels, and coolers.
Carol waved over to one group with a parade-worthy flick of the wrist and then forced them into the social side of business.
“So, now that we're here, why don't we shake some of the week's stress off by playing a game?” she asked. “A little fun under the sun.”
Marcus groaned but Felicity perked up with excitement.
“What kind of game?” she asked.
Carol was devious as heck as she leaned forward and made the announcement.
“Two Truths and a Lie! The perfect way to show everyone just how well they know their partner.”
It could have been his imagination, but Benny could have sworn the woman flashed fangs in his direction.
Wondering how much damage could be done with one little game was useless.
Benny was okay at skirting the truth, lying by omission, and redirection. But outright lying to a boat containing the queen of gossip, her most loyal lackey, his former soulmate, his current fiancée, and Benny’s fake boyfriend?
Well, if he’d also been naked, his teeth had started to fall out, and he realized he was late for a math class he hadn’t attended in years, then he’d be smack dab in the worst stress dream ever.
But he wasn’t dreaming.
Nope.
He was on a boat with short shorts and white-knuckling a drink.
Benny glanced at Jack.
He just hoped the bartender worked better under nautical pressure than he did.