She seemed genuinely angry, not cute, flirty, playful angry that gave rise to sarcastic witty banter and hot as hell flirtatiousness. I stepped back immediately.
“What’s wrong?”
“What’s wrong, you ask?”
“Yes, what’s wrong? I’m confused here. You’re acting like I did something wrong?”
“Maybe you did,” she said softly.
“Well, please tell me so I can make it right in some way.”
“What was her name, by the way?” she asked.
I had no idea what she was talking about. “Who?”
“The woman I saw you kissing earlier?”
“Beverly,” I stated factually.
“Oh my God, what’s with you and women whose names begin with a B. Bianca, Beverly, who’s next . . . Brigit?”
“I don’t know any Brigits,” I started. “And I was not kissing Beverly—she kissed me and I pulled away and asked her to stop. And then I went fishing to avoid her. And you know how much I hate fish!”
She looked at me as if she didn’t believe me in the slightest.
“Nothing happened with her. I swear. I went fishing. She went back to the lodge. Nothing happened.”
“Max, I’m not stupid. I could see something happened between you two. It was so obvious.” She looked furious now. She took a step closer to me and I could almost feel the anger oozing off her.
“We hooked up about a year ago in Namibia. But nothing happened with her now. I promise you.”
“Hooked up?”
“Past tense,” I reiterated.
“I see.”
“Why? Jealous?” I asked, and took a step forwards.
“NO! Not jealous, but—call me old-fashioned—I don’t think I like the idea of the guy I was making out with last night, whom I’d decided to have sex with, who I’d even put red lacy underwear on for, kissing another woman while I had just shaved myself awkwardly in a shower that does not lend itself to shaving that part of yourself!”
“You shaved yourself for me?”
“That’s all you took from that?”
“What kind of underwear?”
“This stupid underwear, Max!” She opened her gown and I gaped.
“Fuck!” was all I could manage. The sight of her stole all the words in the world.
She released the gown, but didn’t close it. Instead, she covered her face with her hands and shook her head.
“I feel like such an idiot,” she said through her fingers.
My heart suddenly ached. I walked up to her and pulled her hands away from her face, slowly.
“There’s no need to feel like an idiot. Not with me. Ever!”
