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Ginny blinks at me in confusion as I throw on my clothes. “What time is it?” she whispers. She sounds a little rough.
“9:30. Did you have fun?”
She nods slightly, and then grabs at her head. “Shit. It hurts to nod.”
“It was that fun, huh?” I laugh quietly.
Then something triggers her to open her eyes fully, and a look of horror crosses her face.
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
She looks at me and swallows, still thinking. “I hooked up with someone.”
“Are you okay?”
“I can’t believe I did that,” she says quietly, pushing her face into her pillow. “I mean, not once in three years have I cheated on Alex.”
“How was it?”
“Kinda good,” she sighs, but this fact only seems to trouble her more.
“Who was it?” I ask, wondering for a moment, if it’s Ryan. Wondering if it would bother me.
“Paul,” she says. “The drummer.”
Of anyone she could have chosen, Paul is the most unlike Alex of any of them. He gets a new tattoo every week, smokes a ton of weed and appears to have no intention of ever graduating. I guarantee he’s never been to a “Young Democrats” meeting on campus. And he’s certainly not their president.
“Ginny, I think you have some wild oats to sow before you get all settled down.”
“No,” she says staunchly. “It was just a stupid mistake. You make a plan for a reason, and my plan is to marry Alex. Now let me sleep.”
**
Ryan drags himself off the couch when I come downstairs, and wraps his arms around me from behind, kissing my cheek. “Good morning,” he says. It feels so natural, as if we never broke up. As if this is the kitchen in his apartment like any other morning.
He also has morning wood, just like a regular morning. “I’m not sleeping with you,” I laugh.
“I’d settle for something else,” he says, only half joking. “Come shower with me.” He bites my earlobe, making me shiver in spite of myself. His mouth moves to my neck, and I find myself relaxing into him. God, it’s been a long time. Okay, it’s been six weeks, but it feels like a long time.
“Nope,” I whisper, but it’s a little breathy.
“You’ll change your mind after you see me play,” he says. He’s right. I already know this. His hands are still on my hips, his mouth on my neck, and I know that seeing him play is all it would take to sway me.
“I’m closing tonight,” I say apologetically. “I just found out.”
A door shuts down the hall and he releases me. “We’re back in a few weeks. Will you come see us then?” he asks.
“Definitely,” I reply, casting an angry look at James’s door. “I’ll put in for time off today.”
**
James still never comes to the beach with us — or with me, anyway — so it’s a surprise when he emerges from his room in swim trunks, looking so good that for just a moment I stop hating him. Max and Ryan walk ahead, carrying a cooler and laughing as if they’ve been friends since high school. Typical Max, and also typical Ryan. Why are things never awkward for them? I’m guessing neither of them has had a moment like I’m having right now, walking beside James with a hundred accusations in my head demanding to be heard.
“I got a mysterious text from Brian this morning,” I tell him. “Informing me that I’m closing.”
“I’m closing too. I’ll give you a ride.”
“It seems to me that it’s the least you can do,” I say bitterly, “since you’re the one responsible for the schedule change.”
