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Chapter 15 - Jonah
Weekends are evil.
Always so exciting to look forward to.
Always such a colossal fucking letdown.
And Monday is always too soon.
It’s not that I’m mad at Kent. I guess I get it. He would rather not enjoy the fantasy. He wants it to die a quick and fast death, in a very appropriate Sunday afternoon fashion before the inevitable whatever of Monday morning reality hits. Sure, totally makes sense.
I just wish he didn’t leave me with such a huge boner in that cabana.
Super inconsiderate.
Ugh, I’m kidding myself, I’m such a fucking wreck now.
I was certain he was just an inch away from calling in sick and spending the whole day with me. But, nope. I guess he knew his boss wouldn’t have any of that. Also, Kent is apparently a very bad liar.
As was noted by the lame reason he gave for leaving me alone on the beach.
Like a loser.
Of some stupid single men’s game.
And my consolation prize is apparently exploring more of Dreamwood Isle all by myself. That includes the one and only bookstore on the entire island. Books are my obvious go-to for self-medicating, so it’s a no-brainer that this be the place that catches my attention. It’s painted sky blue all over, has a bunch of seashell wind chimes hanging outside its door, and it’s called Seaglass Books & Art.
Also, it’s located right behind the El Amado nightclub.
Upon further inspection, I guess I can see how they complement each other—especially when I get a look at the back of the store and find a section for sex toys. I pull something off the shelf, then chuckle, remembering some random joke Rico made once about going down on a—well, never mind, details aren’t important. I buy it for him, hoping it can pick up my mood a bit. When I check out and explain to the clerk that it’s a fun gag gift for my friend, he lifts a lazy eyebrow and says, “Well that’s fitting, because he’ll both have fun and gag on this gift if he tries deep-throating it. Not recommended, by the way.”
I chuckle and take my change.
Of course I also pick up a book for me. It’s a fantasy about a disgraced paladin who aims to restore his honor by taking on a perilous quest to stop a demon lord from eating the soul of the king’s only son and heir, for whom the brooding paladin surprisingly falls in love.
In other words, I want Kent to fuck my brains out right now, but instead, I’m gonna read the shit out of this book.
Maybe I am mad at him.
I head to the other side of Breezeway Point closer to the Quicksilver Strand in pursuit of the perfect beach spot. I find a pair of unoccupied lounger chairs that share a big umbrella, and that’s where I put my sad ass with my gift bag from Seaglass Books & Art as well as my new book, where I hope the story of a disgraced paladin can distract me enough from my rampant horniness and angry, pulsing disappointment with Kent’s abrupt departure.
The Blue Coral Bakery is almost within view, up there on that boardwalk. It wouldn’t be a big effort to walk right over to it and dangle myself in front of Kent.
But he set a boundary. He drew a line. He said bye.
Yeah. I am mad at him.
Before reading the first page of my book, I glance to my left. I see half-naked men in bikinis and ball-hugging trunks. I glance to my right. More half-naked men. And more ball-hugging trunks.
Quite suddenly, I want to embrace the mood. I peel off Kent’s tank top he lent me and pitch it onto the empty lounger chair next to me. Then I kick back, determined to feel fresh. With the warm and salty beach air on my skin, I turn to the first page, ready to get horny for the king’s only son.
The book starts brilliantly, but between the roaring waves, the calming air, and all of the activity across the beach, I’m way too distracted to get lost in a book.
And let’s face it. All of my thoughts are Kent. And what we did. And what we could still have done tonight. And what we are … or aren’t.
This isn’t me.
Normally, I’m all about the book that’s in my hand. I can blot out the world with the words on the page in front of me. My heart and soul would engage instantly. I’d be transported, just like I always want to be.
But that’s the problem: I’m already transported.
I’m here in Dreamwood Isle, full of men, opportunity, fantasies … and Kent.
Kent, Kent, fucking Kent.
Somehow, even the world of emotional satisfaction and adventure I know this book can provide isn’t enough. I can find no satisfaction unless it’s with Kent. His lips. His hands on my body. His warm and sweaty embrace. His eyes that sulk so beautifully when he wants something. His moody and insistent demeanor. His bubbly laughter. His teasing, playful smile.
