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“Well, I live in Miami, and am heading into my third year of college. Oh, and this is my first time in Europe.”
I’m using my best small talk voice, which isn’t saying much, but I really am thinking it’s time to get back to shore.
“How are you enjoying your holiday?” Ilya asks. “Spain is so magical. Such amazing food and friendly people.”
We go back and forth for a while comparing notes on Madrid, the only place I’ve really seen so far, aside from the inside of a nightclub in Ibiza, when I figure I’ve been polite long enough to get the ball rolling on getting off the boat and back to shore.
Still no sign of Bogdan or the sisters, but at this point, I don’t even care.
“Hey, do you think you could take me back? I… have some things I need to do,” I say with a bright smile.
Fedor’s and Ilya’s pleasant expressions don’t falter, not one bit.
“Are you hungry? Would you like some lunch?” Ilya asks. “Karol can get you anything you desire. Lunch on the island is always so crowded.”
Fedor nods in agreement. “It’s so nice out here on the boat. We have the best of both worlds, don’t we, Ilya?”
Then he jumps to his feet. “My, my. Ilya, we have been terrible hosts. We have not even invited Abby for a swim. The water here is beautiful. You must join us.”
Now they’re both standing, looking at me expectantly.
“Um. No. I don’t really want to swim. I don’t have a swimsuit, anyway.”
Fedor rolls his eyes and laughs, then walks up to me and pulls me to my feet. “Turn, darling. Please do a spin for us.”
What the fuck?
I comply, and find, no surprise, that they are sizing me up.
“We have the perfect bikini for you, Abby,” Ilya says. “I will just have Karol go get it—”
“Oh, it’s sleeping beauty,” Fedor hollers as Bogdan joins us.
He greets me with a kiss on both cheeks and runs his hand down my backside. It startles me, but I have to admit it feels damn nice.
I want to ask him where he slept, but not in front of the other guys.
Ilya claps his hands together. “Bogi, we were just about to get Abby a bikini so we can take a swim.”
I hold my hands up. “Oh, no, I was just asking when we’re going to shore—”
But Bogdan cuts me off. “Wonderful. That sounds perfect, a lunchtime swim. Just the thing after a late night, eh?” he asks, shooting a sly smile in my direction.
“What about the girls? We need to wake them up, right?” I ask, getting more confused by the moment.
Bogdan shakes his head no and downs the espresso Karol brought him.
Why are these guys so nonchalant? Don’t they have responsibilities? Things to do? And why do they want to hang out withme? They could get a hundred more attractive girls on their boat.
Before I came on my trip, one of my friends told me European guys like American girls. They think we’re fun, she said, and they admire our independence.
But Americans are freaking everywhere in Spain. There have got to be other women for these guys to hang with. I have neither the time nor inclination to party on a boat all day. I need to get back to the Airbnb, collect my stuff, and get to the airport.
And return my father’s calls. Speaking of which.
“Hey, I was going to ask, has anyone seen my phone?”
Fedor and Ilya look at each other and shake their heads, shrugging.
