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And I reply, “I miss you more than you can imagine.”
Day three: “I can imagine a lot.”
And I reply, “Please imagine a lot, Asa.”
Day four: “Don’t tease me, Libby. I imagine it all. The glass slipper, the ball gown, and the princess.”
And I reply, “I thought it was a prince.”
Day five: “He’s not my type.”
And I reply, “I’m your type.”
Day six: “My type reads romance novels and believes in happily ever after.”
And I reply, “I’m your girl.”
Day seven: “Are you?”
And I reply, “Yes. Asa, I messed things up by not telling you how I feel. I’m so sorry.”
And an hour later he replies. “How do you feel?”
I sit in front of the computer and let the love pour out of my heart.
Asa,
You walked onto that ship and my life began. It started with Sex on the Beach and you bought me an orgasm. It was my first, and although it was really still Sex on the Beach, it was the best sexual experience I had ever had, and we weren't even naked.
You stalked me and found me in the library where you pretended to know about romance. I have read thousands of romance stories, and I knew nothing about romance until you showed me what it could be like.
You professed your love, and I lied to myself. You gave everything, and I gave little. How do I feel?
I feel like the biggest fool in the world. I feel like my life will never be the same without you. I don’t deserve you, but I want you. The words weren’t there on the ship, but my heart knew what my mouth refused to tell you. I love you, Asa Cross.
Yours always,
Libby
His response came by certified mail the next day. Inside the envelope were four tickets on the same cruise sailing out of Ft. Lauderdale the following week. They were for my parents, Justice and me. There was no note. No explanation. Only an invitation. I imagine it is a test of sorts. Will I drop everything for him?
The answer is yes. I believe in fairytales. I believe in happily ever after. I believe in Asa Cross. I believe in love.
A week later, while Mom and Dad and Justice are getting settled into their rooms, I stand in front of the bar sipping a Sex on the Beach and watching people enter the ship. It seems like a lifetime since I was here, but it’s only been two weeks. Two weeks since Justice stood next to me shopping men like they were meat at the market. There was select, choice, and prime, and Justice tasted from every category. As for me, I went prime all the way, and there was only one cut I’d accept, and he is walking onto the ship.
I pick up my umbrella-embellished drink and watch him walk on board. I didn’t think it was possible for him to get any sexier but he is. He approaches the bartender and asks him to have coffee sent to his room. This is a déjà vu moment. An opportunity for a do-over. I lean over to smell him because I miss his sandalwood and sunshine scent.
“Can I help you?” His brilliant smile disarms me.
“As a matter of fact you can.” I stir the pink drink with the little blue umbrella. “I’m told Sex on the Beach should always come with an orgasm, and yet I’m almost finished with this first one and I haven’t experience as much as a quiver.”
Asa leans in and whispers in my ear. “Sweetheart, that’s almost criminal.”
“Maybe I should I have another,” I say.
“Do you think that’s wise?”
“The man I love once told me that wise wasn’t always fun.”
