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One
Libby
I pull the suitcase behind me until the man at the bottom of the gangway takes it. I look at him suspiciously, not because I think he’ll do anything to my suitcase but because it means I’m doing this. I’m boarding a floating hotel for a week. I can’t swim, and I don’t like the water, and yet in hours I’ll be surrounded by it.
“Aren’t you excited?” My sister Justice hops up and down like a kid who’s eaten her entire bounty of Halloween candy in one sitting. “Come on Libby, let’s go.”
She tugs on my arm and drags me up the walkway to the ship entrance. At the top stand two men wearing white navy-like uniforms.
I stop in front of the man with the most gold stripes on his shoulders. “Shouldn’t you be on the bridge doing cross checks or something?” I know nothing about steering a ship, but I imagine the captain’s time is better spent doing more important things than greeting the cruisers.
“Captain Christos is already on the bridge. I’m the staff captain, Nicholas Demos.” He holds out his hand. “Welcome aboard the Southern Cross.”
I give him a quick shake and run after my sister who has already found the bar up ahead. I’ve done my homework. I looked up the safety record of Cross Cruises and they don’t have one blemish on their record. I tried to find some reason not to be my sister’s plus-one, but there wasn’t a valid excuse I could come up with. However, if I’m being honest with myself, I have to admit that I’m excited to do something new, although I prefer to be on land.
Justice shoves a pink drink with a paper umbrella floating at the top into my hand. “It’s called Sex on the Beach, and if you’re lucky, you’ll get that in human form.” She clinks her glass against mine. “Here’s to hot men and happy vaginas.”
I look around to make sure no one is looking at us. My sister has no filter. She blurts out whatever comes to her mouth. She lives on the edge, but so do I. I’m on the edge looking over at everyone having fun. She’s the one on the edge jumping in to the fray.
“Cheers.” I say.
“Did you bring Mr. Dependable?” She knows I’m not hooking up with anyone. If I’m going to have sexy time, it will be between my vibrator and me. It never complains, is always ready, and doesn’t snore.
“Stop it. I’m not talking sex with you in public.” I turn around and lean against the bar, realizing it’s the perfect place to hang out and watch everyone come on board. I excel at looking—not doing.
My head shifts between my sister and the men walking up the gangway. I know her. She is taking mental notes. She puts people into groups by fuckability. There’s the ‘yes’ group, the ‘no’ group, and the ‘probably after I’m shit-face drunk’ group.
I sip on the only Sex on the Beach I’m getting on this cruise and play along with her, trying to figure out who I’d put in the yes group if I were that girl.
No to the guy in Bermuda shorts with legs as hairy as King Kong.
No to the guy who’s already wearing the pink Zinc sunblock on his nose.
Hell no to the guy with the T-shirt that reads, I hear you’re looking for a stud. Well, I've got the STD, and all I need is you. I shudder at the thought.
There wasn’t a lack of men coming aboard because this was a singles cruise. There wasn’t a lack of women either. People travel in packs? The men come in pairs or quartets and women travel in six-packs like tightly contained cans of beers just waiting for a sexy beast to pluck one of them loose.
“You remember the ‘do not enter’ code, right?”
I let out an exasperated sigh. “Yes, red beads on the door mean stop.” Justice brought her Mardi Gras beads for that purpose alone.
I hope the lawn chairs are comfortable because I have a feeling I’ll be spending a lot of time in one.
A man approaches her right side and Justice walks away without another thought about me.
Up ahead, a total hunk walks alone toward the bar. He looks comfortable in his white pants and dock shoes. His blue linen shirt hangs perfectly over his slim hips. I swear I’ve seen him on the cover of a magazine. He looks like a model but has the aura of a pirate. An older, sexy-as-hell pirate.
He walks straight toward me and my heart pounds in my chest. When he reaches the bar, he shakes the bartender’s hand like they’re old friends. “Can you send someone with coffee to my room?”
I stare at the man who is so close I can feel the heat from his body, or maybe that’s my core temperature rising because he’s so damn hot. His eyes are the color of new-bloomed clover—a green that can only come from nature. I find myself leaning toward him. He smells like sandalwood and sunshine.
“Can I help you?” He looks down at me, and smiles.
I want to sink into the gold carpet and disappear. The man caught me sniffing him. “No, I was just…” Oh, what the hell. “What kind of cologne do you wear?”
He places an elbow on the bar and leans casually against it. “Do you like it?” His smile is disarming. The kind of smile that makes a girl’s panties wet.
“No.”
“No?” He lifts his eyes and the corner of his lips fall into a frown.
