AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Yes. I think I needat leasta few more hours before I may want another rum sour.”
He snorts. “Look at you, the picture of moderation.”
“That’s me. Okay, I’m in. But I just brought a cover-up to the beach. Can I go change quickly?”
He glances down at my bikini again but looks away just as fast. “Yeah. I’ll be in the lobby.”
“Inside it? Or right outside?” I ask.
I can’t see him roll his eyes, but I can practically feel it. “Inside.Now go.”
“I’m on it. Back soon!”
Digging through my suitcase a few minutes later, I face an imminent problem. What do you wear to golf? The question is pretty irrelevant at any length, because whatever the answer is, the likelihood of me having accidentally packed it was zero.
I pull on a tank top and a jeans skirt that ends halfway down my thighs. It looks vaguely tennis-y, and I have a notion that people who play tennis and golf usually wear similar things.
I only brought sandals and flip-flops, though, so my sandals will have to do.
Phillip is indeed waiting in the lobby. I catch sight of him with his back toward me, hands in his pockets. For a second, I want to retreat to my room. Last night had made things real, somehow. The cotton candy cloud of embracing the unknown, being vacation me, and thewhy not?attitude I’ve tried hard to live on and with for the past week are all shaking beneath me.
But then, he turns.
His eyes take in my clothes and stop at my shoes. That half smile edges his lips, and the cloud beneath me stabilizes. I float the rest of the way forward.
“What do you think?” I ask. “Proper golfing attire?”
“Not in the least. I like the shoes, though.”
“They’re nice, aren’t they?” I hold out my foot and twirl it around, like a moron. We both look down at my sandal and the coral color of my toenails. I give my ankle one last rotation before putting my foot down.
The silence stretches on.
Ignore it,I think.Just like we’re ignoring last night.
“Anyway, I don’t think I’ll do very well, so my footwear probably won’t matter. Won’t I be slowing you down?”
“Maybe,” he says with a shrug. He pulls a navy cap down low on his head, and we start walking out into the warm midday sun. “But I’m not playing to set any new records.”
“Are we getting there by golf cart?” I ask, seeing the white vehicle parked outside the lobby. The Winter Resort’s name and logo are proudly emblazoned on the side.
“Yeah. Robert will take us.”
Robert does indeed take us. He’s pleasantly chatty on the way there, reminding us to take a couple of water bottles out on the course.
There’s someone waiting for us by the club house when we get there. A man in appropriate golf attire that looks almost nothing like my clothes. He greets us with a wide smile and gets us kitted out.
I nod and smile and accept all the clubs handed to me. They have names I vaguely recognize, like putter and driver, but also names like wedge and iron.
Phillip looks over at me from time to time, amusement a faint flicker in his eyes. He can probably spot my fake enthusiasm a mile away.
“So,” he says when we’re finally all loaded up in our own golf cart, equipped with pegs and balls and other things that have vaguely sex-related names. “Feeling excited?”
“More like intimidated. You know I’ve never done this before. Ever, right?”
“I know,” he says and gets in the driver’s seat. “But there’s thirty minutes between our tee time and the next group’s. I asked.”
“Oh. Is that good?”
