She lifted her head and sighed. “Mom starved herself, pretty much, until she finally got back the 21-inch waist she’d had when she first met Dad. She was convinced that if she made herself back into the person she’d been, Dad would come running back.”
I thought of Dan and said, “I’m not sure that really works. I think they either like you or they don’t, and if they don’t like the way you look then they’ll just find someone they like more.” Lordy, look at me coming out with profound relationship advice. Where had that come from?
“You’re probably right,” Caitlin said. “Not that Mom would have believed it. Dad never came back, but Mom just blamed herself for not trying hard enough. She always told me that if I just tried hard enough, I’d always be able to keep a man. Nice clothes, nice hair, tiny waist, blow jobs. The keys to relationship success, you know. First time a boyfriend broke up with me, she raked me over the coals about how I should have tried harder!” She shook her head and sighed. “Sometimes I wonder if it’s really true, or even if it is true—is it really worth it? Guess it doesn’t matter, though; I keep trying anyway.” She smiled bitterly.
She’d only mentioned her mother once before, and I couldn’t help but wonder what their relationship was like. “Does she know about…you know…the throwing up?” I tried to be delicate.
“Yeah,” she said with a shrug. “She does it too. She’s totally disciplined with her diet, but not long after my first break-up, I discovered her vomiting after dinner, and she admitted it was a good compliment to regular diet and exercise. ‘Just shifts those last few pounds, honey,’ she said, before helpfully suggesting I try it. But the way I see it, though, instead of using it to just lose the last few pounds, I can eat and drink what I want, and just get rid of the first few pounds too, without all the deprivation my mom goes through.” She caught my expression and added, “Dude, you’d do it too if you knew how easy it makes losing weight.”
It was tempting for about a millisecond, and I was thankful for my mum, who whinged about her weight as much as the next woman but had never obsessed over it. I might not like my weight, and I might think my thighs were a travesty the world didn’t need to see, but the idea of going to extreme measures was just frightening. But this wasn’t the time to pass judgement, so I gave Caitlin a hug and said, “I’m here for you, roomie.”
She hugged me back, but it was clear she’d decided the conversation was over. I just couldn’t tell if it was because she was worried about what I thought.
With a complete change of tone, she pulled away and said quickly, “Ellie, seriously, it’s no biggie. I hardly ever do it these days, I swear. Before I came here, I promised myself I’d stop. I intend on hitting the gym intensely very soon.” She smiled almost-convincingly and changed the subject. “Sooooooooooooo, what’s the story with you and Luciano?”
Making a note to do some research on bulimia later, I let her change the topic. I wrinkled my nose at her question and asked, “What do you mean? We’re just friends, of course.”
Caitlin laughed incredulously. “Awwww, come on, Ellie, what do you mean ‘of course’? Don’t play coy with me, girl! You should totally tap that. It’s not because you’re worried about Seth, is it? Because he is soooooooooo gone on Sunday.”
Really confused, I said, “Wait, what? Luciano’s gay, right?”
“He’s not gay!” she shrieked. “What are you talking about, woman?”
I tried to remember all of the things that had, to me, made his sexuality blindingly obvious. “He’s so put together, you know? He’s handsome and he dresses soooo neatly and properly, he’s close to his mother, he wears those tiny, tight, white swimming shorts…” In retrospect, it was fairly weak evidence.
“Dude, he’s Italian!” Caitlin was laughing so loudly I thought the passengers up on the promenade deck would hear her. “Luciano is a total ladies’ man, like all the Italians I know, and most men on this ship!”
I thought about the Italian men I’d known over the years, trying to rethink Luciano in that context, and wondered if she was right. Italians did tend to have a certain way about them, caring about clothes, so smooth and charming, definitely Mama’s boys.
Was my gaydar so completely off all of a sudden? Maybe it was the change of time zone.
Still, he wasn’t sleazy and over-the-top like the ones I’d met through Dan’s football club, which seemed to have more than its fair share of Italian stallions, so I wasn’t totally convinced. From what I’d heard at our countless post-game nights out, I knew that being gay was horribly frowned upon in most Italian families, and maybe he just wasn’t out because he was afraid of upsetting his mother. Either way, he had proven to be a good friend to me and I felt the need to defend his honour.
“He’s nothing like the other men on this ship, Caity,” I protested. “He’s been really supportive and kind, and helped me a lot with the Seth situation.”
“Uh huh. Or just maybe he’s just trying to get into your pants.” She was still chuckling away like one of the Three Stooges and obviously wasn’t listening, which made me smile. I loved the easy relationship we were developing. It was something I missed about Dan; we’d had such an easy relationship before it all went to shit.
The cabin phone rang loudly and Caitlin jumped up to answer it.
“Well, helloooooooooooooooo, Luciano,” she said, grinning at me. “Fancy hearing from you. Ellie was just telling me how fabulous and handsome you are.” She was smiling and laughing silently, pulling the phone away as I tried to swipe it from her. I suddenly felt like I was thirteen again, at the slumber party where Virginia Mason had dared me to ring up my crush and then had embarrassed me when I’d chickened out.
“Caitlin!” I hissed.
She ignored me. “Uh huuuuuh, uh huuuuuh, I know, I know…” she said in to the phone, twirling a strand of hair around her finger. “Oh, yes, I’m sure she’d be very glad to talk to you. Here you go.” She handed me the phone.
I shook my head at her as I tucked the phone between my shoulder and ear. “Hey, Luciano, sorry. Ignore Caitlin. She’s just being funny.”
I could hear the smile in his voice as he replied, “So you don’t think I’m handsome, bella? I’m disappointed.”
I felt a bit confused at the whole thing, but then gay men were always searching for compliments, so… “Well, no. I mean, yes, you’re…an Italian Ricky Martin,” I stammered, throwing out the first name that came to mind. He was just as handsome, just as lovely, and I imagined his reaction to the reference would confirm things.
“Who?” asked Luciano.
So much for that idea. “Never mind,” I said, shaking my head and smiling. “How are you, anyway?”
“Very excellent, Ellie. I need to ask you a favour. Your very handsome friend is hoping you can help him…me.”
He explained that he needed help with a report that had to be completed in English and wanted to know if I could come by to help him the next day, after I closed the shop. I was happy to help, and since I enjoyed Luciano’s company, it was hardly a chore. We made plans to meet up after work Saturday night, after our day at sea, where he would apparently spend ten hours in the engine room. Ten at night seemed late to be working on a report, but then what did I know? Nothing seemed normal on a cruise ship.
It seems Caitlin had been right to dread a day at sea; Saturday was incredibly long and mind-numbingly boring. I had the shop open all day long, with only a lunch break to escape the constant questions about my life. I found it especially funny when people would ask what part of England I was from, and when I told them, would confess to having no idea where anywhere was, and to also knowing nothing about England, except that we had a Queen. And David Beckham, Harry Potter, and poor dental hygiene, of course. “Beckham’s wife is really skinny,” one woman said, looking me up and down as though I was letting the side down. Another asked me if magic was really real, and the number of times people complimented me on my teeth made me incredibly self-conscious.
&nbs
p; I was absent-mindedly poking my fat rolls, wondering if it was better to be chubby with good teeth or skinny with bad teeth, when Nick popped his head in the door of the Pic Stop.
“Hey, Princess, you coming to watch me dance in the special late show tonight?” he said, finishing his question with a little leap in the air. “I’m going to be fabulous, you know.”
I had no doubt, but explained I was going to help Luciano with his report. “Sorry, Nick, he’ll be in trouble otherwise.”
“Uh huh…” Nick said. “A report… No better time than late on a Saturday to work on a report…” He winked.
This lot had sex on the brain. “You sound just like Caitlin!” I rolled my eyes. “We’re just friends, and anyway I’m pretty sure he plays for your team.”
Nick snorted. “Princess, I wish he played for my team!” He pouted and added, “Sadly for we fabulous male-fancying men, your Italian engineer is definitely a ladies’ man.”
“Really?” I said. Both he and Caitlin had been here longer than I had, so presumably they’d had ample opportunities to observe Luciano in action… Hmm. “I’m still not sure I’m convinced,” I said, though I was starting to think I was wrong.
Nick grinned and said, “You go along and help Luciano with your report, and if in the morning you still think he’s gay… Well. Then we can revisit this conversation.” Laughing, he blew me a kiss and waltzed out of the shop.
By the time Luciano came by at closing time, I was exhausted and not particularly in the mood for report writing and editing. Still, once I committed to something or someone, I always saw it through, so I went with Luciano back to his cabin, keeping up a cheerful patter of conversation.
Papers were strewn across Luciano’s bed and desk and a tell-tale pile of dirty plates and glasses sat guiltily beside the laptop.
“Wow, someone’s been busy,” I commented, taking in the rest of the cabin. It was about six times the size of ours, with a queen-sized bed and bedside tables, various pieces of modern artwork, a long sideboard, and a desk. I was obviously in the wrong job, as my cabin was a sad and tiny space by comparison.
“Yes, I finished work in the engine room at four today, and I’ve been working non-stop since then,” Luciano said, looking deep into my eyes as he spoke. I always found it weird when people did that, so I shifted around uncomfortably and avoided his gaze.
“Let’s get to work,” I said brightly, and sat down to look at the screen. All business, that’s me.
Just as I started on the second paragraph, Luciano touched my shoulder.
“Ellie, I need to talk to you,” he murmured.
About six different things ran through my head instantaneously, and I squirmed in my seat. Was he in trouble? Was he sick? Did he have a secret confession regarding his sexuality? I’d already heard Caitlin’s secret; I wasn’t sure I could deal with any more.
Luciano wiped his forehead with the back of his hand, as though he was very nervous. “From the first day I saw you in the corridor, I knew that we would sleep together.”
That had not been what I’d expected to come out of his mouth. I sat very still, my mouth hanging slightly open as I silently sucked in air. I could feel the tension and expectation in the room building as my head spun and my heartbeat quickened.
For starters, I’d been with his friend, Seth—wasn’t there some kind of bro code that made that a bad idea? Not to mention that he’d acted like a gay best mate and offered to help me find another man, which had lulled me into an apparently false sense of security, seeing as he now wanted to sleep with me.
Caitlin and Nick were totally right; I was clueless. I was shocked, flattered, and definitely intrigued by Luciano’s statement, but that didn’t mean I had a clue what to do next. He was gorgeous, caring, fun…and, apparently, straight. This put a whole different spin on things.
With all those thoughts running through my head, it felt like we’d been sitting there for ages when in reality it had only been a minute or two. Luciano, clearly impatient, spun my chair around, sat down on the bed, and reached out to take my hands in his.
“You are so… so…bellissimo and…sorry, I can’t think in English when I’m nervous…” He smiled shyly. “Hmmm, yes… You’re funny and intelligent and charming.” He stroked my hand, very slowly and gently; he kept his eyes on mine and his voice low.
Another man telling me how wonderful I was. It could have been lovely, but it came so soon after Seth’s glowing words, which had turned out to be bullshit, that it was hard to take him seriously. I was sure there was a distinctly cynical look on my face as I listened to the words flowing out of Luciano’s mouth.
“You deserved so much better than Seth.” He hesitated, then said, “Well, he is my friend, but, well… He didn’t treat you right.” He shook his head solemnly. “No, he wasn’t good for you, Ellie. He doesn’t know you like I know you. He does not know the wonderful and…and sincere woman I see in front of me. You and I are a good match, I think.”
The words of flattery made me feel a bit uncomfortable, and to be fair, we hadn’t known each other for that long, even in cruise ship time. Besides the fool I’d made of myself with Seth, I knew my strengths, and beauty wasn’t one of them, yet these guys kept using it as admittedly effective bait. Perhaps the funny, intelligent, and charming part was a little bit more on the money… At least, those had always been the things I hoped men would notice, because while I’d always been doubtful about my looks, I knew I was funny and smart and, despite my mouth’s tendency to run away with me, generally pretty good with people, too.
Luciano appeared to be holding his breath, and I guessed he wanted me to say something. Most men would, probably, if they’d just lavished you with compliments.
“I thought you were gay,” I blurted out, and then felt my cheeks going hot. I definitely had a way with words sometimes.
“What?” Luciano jumped up, emphatic gestures accompanying the word. I couldn’t say that the motions particularly helped his straight-man argument. “Ellie, why would you think that?”
I had to stop and think before answering, to make sure I didn’t offend. Never mind that he’d already obviously not been impressed by what I was now convinced was an erroneous assumption. “You’re always so well groomed,” I said, feeling incredibly awkward, “and you’re close to your mother, and you wear those tiny white swimming trunks…and… Well, you’re always so nice and friendly to me…” I trailed off, realising I sounded ridiculous. Note to self: get gaydar checked.
“Ellie, bella, I was trying to…what do you call it in English?…court you.” He sat back down, looking defeated.
“Oh.” I was suddenly lost for words, which was probably a blessing, really. He was actually taking it slow and making sure we clicked, rather than jumping into bed like I had with Seth, and then having to awkwardly avoid each other in the halls… My mind raced with ideas of how to take back what I had said. Maybe I could claim some sort of language barrier problem? “But just one thing,” I said, thinking back to my last experience. “You aren’t leaving next San Juan, are you?”
Luciano laughed, obviously aware of my worries, and said, “No, I’m here for you to enjoy for many months to come.” He rose slowly from his chair, slid his hand around the back of my neck, and started to play with my hair, twirling it around his fingers and stroking the side of my neck with light, feathery touches of his thumb. He leant over and whispered in my ear in Italian. It was a language I didn’t know, but his seductive tone was all I needed to understand. As his hands wandered lower and his whispering became more intense, I suspected that those romantic words had become just a little more urgent.
God, that feels good.
I went from wondering what was going on to desperately wanting him to kiss me. It was my first experience of a drawn-out seduction dance, and I liked it. A lot. His body had become really hot to the touch and he had developed a faint sweat. Combined with the intoxicating smell of his aftershave, I was starting to feel more than a bit
woozy.
Wait, don’t fall for this again.
I swallowed with a conspicuous, nervous gulp. My mouth had become completely dry and I kept licking my lips and swallowing again and again. I could hear the pounding of my own heart inside my head. Every inch of my body was getting sucked into the Luciano vortex, and he hadn’t even kissed me yet.
Then his lips touched the delicate skin at the base of my neck.
Damn it, I’m not made of stone.
The build-up of anticipation had been fast and furious, and I almost cried out with relief. He moved his mouth up, millimetres at a time, placing countless tiny, soft kisses along the front of my throat; and when the kiss-trail made it up to my mouth, I actually did let out a little whimper. Luciano pulled away for a moment and broke out in a huge grin, looking extremely pleased with himself. I reached around and grabbed the back of his head, pulling him back towards me.
He kissed me with the deep, intense longing of a hungry man. The idea of him being gay and us being friends was completely obliterated in the space of about two minutes. I kissed him back with an almost indecent amount of wild abandon. Italians were full of life and gusto, and I felt quite safe my enthusiasm would be well received.
In response, Luciano leant over and whispered into my hair, which made his words muffled and hard to hear. It almost sounded like he said he wanted to eat me, which I was sure I misheard…and then he shuffled down until he was kneeling on the floor with his head in my lap. It seemed I had heard him correctly.
After a few minutes of gripping the edge of the chair so hard I had cramps in my hands, Luciano popped his head up, patted the bed, and whispered hoarsely “Come here. I need you now.” I just nodded. Right then I’d do anything he said. Men who were talented and willing in that department were worth their weight in chocolate chip cookies.
Apparently a cunning undresser, Luciano was naked by the time we hit the bed. Now, this was the kind of cruise ship adventure I’d been after. We already had a friendship, and I trusted him, so I wasn’t even afraid what he’d think when he saw my naked body.
Sex, Lies, and Cruising Page 10