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“What?” I asked.
“You should have seen the look on your face just now,” he replied in a low voice, but Kaitlyn could probably hear anyway. She was only two feet behind us. “Deer in headlights, man.”
“Shut up,” I grumbled, reaching up to grip the handles of the trolley. “Let’s do this.”
“Ready guys, on my count,” one of the men running the zipline called out. “One, two,three.”
I felt my heart lurch as I leapt from the platform, fighting against my basic instinct to keep my feet on a solid surface. The next thing I knew, I was soaring through the air, just above the trees. I could see the ocean from here, and it felt like I was flying.
The high of it gave me a heady feeling, and I couldn’t help shouting out “Yeah!”
The trolley whistled along the zipline before slowing down and eventually stopping at another platform. It was over way too soon, and I immediately wanted to go again, but it was a bit of a hike to get here from where he parked, so we needed to head back to be in time for the bachelor party.
Michael’s smile was huge as the two of us walked down a spiral staircase this time, and I knew that I made the right call with this adventure. I wanted to carve out just a little personal time with the man that had been my best friend since college.
When we got back to the hotel, the guys were already starting to gather in the hotel bar, where we were meeting before going to the party. The guests included the other two groomsmen—Scott and Briggs—and some other close friends and cousins of Michael’s. It wasn’t a huge group, about eight guys, but I knew that we were going to have a blast with what I had planned.
“Oh man, you guys just missed it,” Scott said when we joined them at the bar. It looked like some of the guys were pre-gaming already with beers in their hands. “There was just a big movie star here in the hotel lobby.”
“Who?” Michael asked curiously.
“Bowen O’Neal,” Briggs chimed in. “You know, the action star.”
“Wow,” I said, slightly disappointed that I missed seeing him. He was a Hollywood A-lister, and I wondered if he was here on a vacation or something was being filmed on the island.
“We didn’t get to talk to him, but we asked the bellhop and he said the guy isn’t staying here, so who knows what he’s up to.”
The rest of the party guests showed up as we were talking and it was time to go. I had ordered two large cars to take us to the pier, and they were already waiting outside when we all filed out of the hotel. No one knew what to expect from the party since I’d been keeping it a secret as I planned it over the last couple of weeks.
When we arrived at the pier everyone looked around curiously, wondering what we were doing.
“Ben, what are we doing here?” Michael asked, a slight confused frown on his face.
“We’re going on a party boat,” I said, gesturing to the two-story, privately chartered boat that I’d arranged for us.
“Fucking awesome,” Michael said, leading the way to the dock.
As we drew closer to the vessel, I could smell the intoxicating scent of cooking meat.
“Those are our steaks for dinner,” I explained to everyone as we boarded. I’d spent a small fortune on this party, with the boat and the steak dinner, but as we all sat down around a big table, I knew that it was worth it.
There was talking and laughter, drinks and beer flowed freely, and the boat was big enough not to be tossed about too much by the waves as we sailed along. I could tell that Michael was having a good time, and the rest of the guys seemed to be enjoying themselves.
When the food came out, a hearty meal of steaks, baked potatoes with all the fixings, and green beans, we dug in eagerly. I didn’t realize how hungry I was until the food was in front of me, and it was cooked perfectly. The steak was tender with a nice sear on the outside and everything was well-seasoned.
I drank scotch, which I rarely did, and gave out the party favors—metal flasks with each man’s initials engraved on them.
After dinner and hanging out talking about sports, women, and interesting celebrity sightings—brought up because of the spotting of action star Bowen O’Neal—it was time to go down to the lower deck.
This was my last surprise of the evening. There were two poker tables set up, and I’d paid extra for us to be allowed to smoke cigars, knowing a couple of the guys were into that sort of thing. I didn’t indulge in it myself. I’d tried a cigarette once as a teenager and gotten sick to my stomach, which killed my desire to ever try that, or cigars, again.
We divided ourselves into two groups and sat around the tables to play. I had finished two scotches by then and was feeling the effects of the alcohol. That was probably what made me pull out my phone and type out a message to Tatum, who’d given me her number at the restaurant last night.
How’s the bachelorette party going?
I knew that it was taking place right now too, and that Tatum had organized it. If I were honest, I didn’t really care that much how it was going, but I knew that it mattered to Tatum and she was really starting to matter tome.
I didn’t receive a response right away, and we started playing a game of Texas hold’em. I had a shitty hand, so had just folded when my phone went off with a message. Opening it up, I found a picture and a message.
