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As much as I try to feel like I have everything all sorted out, I know that’s not actually the case. There’s still a pinch in between my shoulders that just won’t go away, and I’m still up in arms about my father no matter how much I try to tell myself he’s not a factor in my life anymore. Mom needs to get out of here. Maybe then I’ll feel better about everything.
Control. I feel like I'm not in control of anything in regard to my life. Sure, I'm here on a spur-of-the-moment vacation, but there's an itinerary and then it's off to college and classes and all of that. What looms most of all is my father. He always had to exhibit some measure of control over my life. It didn't matter if my mom said I could go out with my friends. I had to get permission from my father. It got to the point that my mom wouldn't even tell me yes or no, just "Go ask your father."
I hated that phrase. I still do even though I know I won’t have to hear it ever again.
I stop floating and brush my blond hair and then wipe a head down my face. After blinking my blue eyes a few times, I spin around to see who else is here.
Just a few people.
Including a hot guy who is watching me.
Black hair.
Blue eyes.
Maybe my age, maybe a few years older.
Casually, I swim a lap and then another. Trying not to be obvious about it, I glance over at him.
He’s still watching me. Not staring. Not creepy.
If anything, it makes me feel a little… I’m not sure what the best word for it is, but my nerve endings feel all tingly.
He’s not in the water, but he does have his shirt off as he’s lounging on a chair. There’s a drink beside him. Might just be Cola, but it could be a mixed drink. Maybe he’s twenty-one, or else maybe he just didn’t get carded. With those looks of his, I’m sure he’s able to get away with murder.
I'm sure there are other girls who are around our age and who are single on the cruise ship, but that he's here with me right now makes me feel daring. Alive.
Father would hate this. He probably wouldn’t even want me to be swimming alone. He never cared for the idea of my wearing bikinis, and the one I’m wearing now is pink that screams “Look at me!”
Wearing this bikini has always given me a boost. It makes me feel like a short Barbie doll. I am short. Five foot even.
I almost want that guy to stand so I could see how tall he is.
Well, why don’t I just go up to him and talk to him and see what happens?
CHAPTER11
Thinking that and actually working up the nerve to approach the hot guy are two completely different things, but hell, if Erika can end up with four guys who love and adore her, why can’t I at least go up and talk to one?
So I do. I swim over to the steps closest to him and try to come up out of the water like I’m a Bond girl. I’m dripping water everywhere, but my towel is…where is it I’m not even sure so I’m just going to have to drip I guess.
I catch his gaze and don’t exactly smile at him. It’s not a smirk either, but I lift my chin and head on over.
“Do you know how to swim?” I ask.
“I might.”
I let my gaze wander over his body. He’s wearing jeans but no shirt. It’s bundled up behind his neck as he leans back on the lounge chair.
“Maybe we can swim together another time,” I say.
“Why not now?” he asks.
“You aren’t exactly dressed for it.”
“Maybe all I have to do is take off my pants.”
“That so?” I lick my lips. “I would’ve taken you as the kind of guy to go commando.”
