At fifteen, I got a job so Bailee could afford to participate in school activities and buy some of the clothes that she wanted. My mother left us minimal funds when she would go out of town, and I was tired of Bailee not being able to go to the movies with her friends. Now that she was off to college, I felt like I had to be a mother to Jared instead.
Our rent was expensive, and Jared always bought expensive gaming equipment or something for his car. My money was spent on groceries and sending some money to Bailee while she was at college.
I hadn’t seen my mother in almost four years—since Bailee turned eighteen and went off to Berkeley. I didn’t care. It wasn’t like she was around much when I was growing up anyway. She last told me that she moved to Beverly Hills to live with her rich boyfriend, whom I’ve never met. Bailee told me that she had tried to see our mom on the weekends since Berkeley is only a short plane ride to Beverly Hills, but our mother always had plans.
So, if it weren’t for Nicole, I wouldn’t have made this trip. I realized as the wind blew through my hair that I needed to get out more. I needed to stop my normal routine of working and hanging out with Nicole on Friday and Saturday nights, with my only me time being the bi-weekly manis and pedis I treated myself to, and start living my life for me. I needed to travel, see the world, and let my hair down. Jared was thirty-four; he could learn to cook and help clean around the apartment. Shit, he needed to get out of the house, too!
“I just want to say thank you for giving me this gift. If it weren’t for you, I would be at home, doing laundry and getting ready for the work week. No matter what happens, let’s just have fun. I’ll be your wingwoman and get you a shitload of phone numbers,” I said, linking my arm through Nicole’s.
“I knew I would have to force you to come; that’s why I paid for it before I gave it to you. And I hope to get more than phone numbers,” Nicole said as she winked at me.
We laughed as we stood in the long line of people waiting to board the ship. Everything was about standing in lines. Lines to board the bus, lines to go through security, lines to check-in, lines to take our picture with the fake tropical background, and now lines to board the ship.
Once we made it to the front of the line, a man with a Hispanic accent greeted us. “My name is Waldo and I will be your Steward and show you to your cabin. Your bags will be delivered there shortly,” he said as he gestured for us to follow him.
Nicole and I turned towards each other, wide-eyed and speaking telepathically.
“Did he just say ‘Waldo’?” she asked without words, raising her eyebrows.
I nodded and spoke without words back, “Yes. Yes, he said his name is Waldo”.
We both bit our lips, trying not to laugh.
“That’s an uncommon name you have, Waldo,” I said, still trying not to laugh.
“Yes, I get that a lot. It’s not because of your American books, Where’s Waldo, even though I hear that a lot, too.”
“It’s not?” Nicole asked.
Waldo led us down a grand staircase, showing us a bar, the desk where we could book excursions and a Duty Free shop. The Grand Foyer was beautiful. The floor appeared to be made out of white marble, and it sparkled against the overhead lights and chandeliers. People relaxed near a white Grand Piano, sipping cocktails and already enjoying their vacation. The lights reflected off the marble, and it reminded me of being at a ball…well, what balls were depicted as in movies, that is.
We waited for an elevator as he explained his name—probably for the ten millionth time. “My brother and I are twins, and my mother loves the poetry by Ralph Waldo Emerson. My brother was born first—by twenty-three minutes.” He frowned. “His name is Ralph, and well—I’m Waldo.”
“Did you know the book was originally called Where’s Wally? when it was published first in the UK? It was changed to Where’s Waldo? for the US and Canada,” I said, getting into the elevator.
“How do you know that?” Nicole asked.
“Bailee loved looking for that man for hours in his red-and-white-striped shirt, bobble hat and big, round, black glasses. I don’t remember where I first learned about that particular fact, though.” I smiled.
“I did not know that,” Waldo said, ushering us out of the elevator.
We followed Waldo down a narrow, dimly lit hallway with no windows. The carpets were a dark blue with different color stars randomly scattered throughout, making the hallway appear darker. Porters were hustling and delivering bags to rooms, and we followed Waldo to our room.
He ushered us into a small, cramped room with two twin beds that lined the walls with tiny bedside tables beside each, and an ocean-view window centered in the middle over them. The blue carpet with stars mimicked the carpet from the halls.
We didn’t make it far into the room before I spoke, looking around the room, “You couldn’t splurge and get me a suite for my birthday?”
CHAPTER SIX
Easton
The closer our plane got to California, the more I felt like a bad father. I was going on an eight day vacation without my daughter. Avery told me to relax, but he wasn’t a father—not to mention a single father—and he had no clue. What if something were to happen to me? What if the ship was to break down in the middle of the ocean and we died? Cheyenne would be left without any parents.
“You need to calm the fuck down before they think we have a you know what in your backpack, man,” Avery said, leaning over and whispering in my ear.
“Yeah, Daddy, I’m gonna be fine. Grandma and Grandpa P said they would take me to Disneyland and California Adventure this week.”
“Tell him, C.C. Tell your dad that he’s being a little B.”
Cheyenne laughed at him. I kept my mouth shut as my head went left and right, looking at them talk over me as I sat in the middle seat on the plane. Cheyenne insisted that she get the window seat so she could see everything as we flew over.
“Daddy, I’m ten going on eleven. I think I can survive without you for a week.” She rolled her eyes.
“Since when did you become such a big girl?” I asked, rubbing the top of her head.
“Oh my God, don’t mess up my hair!”
My little Peanut was growing up. My mother told me that she was going to be a handful, especially when she reached her teens. I wasn’t looking forward to raising a teenage daughter. I was, however, looking forward to chasing off punk ass boys who thought they could win me over with “yes, sir” and “no, sir”. I was a master at that shit when I was a hormonal, teenaged boy, trying to get into all the hot girls’ pants at school.
“I know you will be fine without me for a week, Peanut. I just wish you were coming with us.”
“Uncle A told me that there won’t be any kids on the boat. I don’t want to go with a bunch of old people.”
I laughed. “Thirty-one is not old.”
“Yeah, huh!”
“Keep it up and I’ll be too old to play catch with you and teach you how to hit a softball.”
Every day after school, Cheyenne and I would go to the park and play catch. I had four weeks to teach her how to catch and throw a ball properly, and she did really well. She was a natural. Hitting a softball—was another story. I think she was scared, but when I asked, she would tell me she wasn’t and storm off.
When we returned from our trip, she would start practicing with her team. Courtney’s dad, Phil, let me sign up for assistant coach as we discussed. Practice would work out perfectly since I worked mornings at the bar Tuesday through Thursday; doing paperwork and practice would be over by the time I had to be at the bar on Friday nights. Also, if things worked out with Bethy managing the bar and the assistant manager, Trent, Avery and I wouldn’t need to be at Halo all that often.
“I love you, Daddy,” she said, leaning her head on my shoulder.
Every time she told me she loved me, it melted my heart, and I was putty in her hands.
*~*~*
Bill and Trish were waiting at the baggage cl
aim at LAX when we touched down. Avery and I were taking a bus to the docks, and since Bill and Trish lived about forty minutes from the airport, it made better sense for them to pick her up rather than me have to hire a car for just a few hours to drive her there.
“You be a good girl for your grandparents,” I said to Cheyenne, hugging her just outside the doors of the airport. “And tell your mom ‘hi’ for me, okay?”
Cheyenne nodded, and I kissed her cheek. Bill and Trish always took Cheyenne to Dana’s grave to see her. None of us could let Cheyenne come to Southern California and not see her. Cheyenne would talk to Dana like she was really there, and at first, it choked me up, but now, it just made me happy.
“I will. I can’t wait to tell her that I’m going to play softball just like she did. I’m going to tell her that I want to play third base like she did, too.”
“She’s going to be so proud of you, Peanut.”
Cheyenne said goodbye to Avery, and I kissed the top of her head and watched her walk away with Bill and Trish, waving until she got to the crosswalk. Avery nudged me, telling me it was time to go before we missed our bus. My heart ached as I watched my Peanut walk away, talking about telling Dana how she would be following in her footsteps.
“I need a drink,” I said, willing my eyes to dry so no one would see me cry.
“Let’s do this shit!”
*~*~*
“How the fuck are we supposed to get laid in a twin?” I asked Avery as we walked into the ten by thirteen closet of a room. I heard our steward, Alex, behind us trying to stifle a laugh.
“Just tap into your teenage years and make her be on top,” he said, slapping me on the back.
Since when was I taking sex advice from Avery?
“Your bags will be here shortly,” Alex said, giving us a knowing smile. He knew what was up. “If you need anything, just use the phone there,” he said as he pointed to a phone on the small desk below the tiny ass TV that hung on the wall in a corner, “and have them page me. I will bring whatever you need.”
“Thanks, Alex,” Avery said, pulling out his wallet and handing him a ten. “We will.”
I felt claustrophobic as I looked around the room. It was tiny with twin beds, miniature side tables, a miniature TV, and there was a miniature desk at the end of one twin bed and a loveseat at the end of the other. They packed so much furniture in the room, there was barely room to walk. The bathroom had a walk-in shower that was so small, I was sure my six-foot-two frame would hit the showerhead, a toilet and a sink with a tiny countertop. New York apartments were small—but not this small—and I had to bunk with Avery for seven nights in it. Fuck me.
“I’m going to laugh so hard when you fall off the bed in the middle of the night,” I said, laughing at him. We weren’t used to sleeping on twin-sized beds.
“Fuck you! Like you’re used to a twin.” He paused and motioned towards the beds that lined the walls. “I was thinking…we could push the two twins together when one of us brings a chick back.”
“I’m not sleeping in a bed that you just fucked a girl in,” I said, shaking my head.
“Fine, here’s the deal. There is housekeeping twenty-four/seven, so we’ll just have them change the sheets and push the beds back, or the other one can sleep up there for the night until the sheets are changed,” he said, pointing to a piece of the wall that stuck out. “You just pull it down and it’s a twin, too.”
“What if we both bring a chick back? We need rules. I don’t want to see your dick.” I had actually seen his dick before. We’d been best friends since we were in diapers practically, and we played sports together, so it was just a natural thing.
“I don’t want to see yours, either!”
“We should just work it so we go back to their room, and then we don’t have to worry about kicking them out or anything.”
“Good plan!” he said, snapping his fingers and pointing at me, nodding his head.
“Let’s do this…” I started to say as the Captain’s voice played in a speaker in our room.
“Hello! This is your Captain speaking. I hope everyone has found their rooms and is ready to meet some single people. We only do this cruise once a year, and it’s my favorite one…” I gave a sarcastic laugh towards Avery, wondering if El Capitan got lucky on a singles cruise as well. “Before we start the fun, there is a mandatory Safety at Sea briefing on Deck 7 on the Promenade in twenty minutes. Again, this is mandatory for all passengers. Once it is completed, you will be free to roam the ship and hopefully meet that special someone!”
“You fucking owe me big,” I said to Avery.
“Dude, you’re going to get laid. What are you complaining about?”
I was still feeling kind of guilty to be out having fun without my Peanut, but really, I needed this vacation. Working long hours at the bar and raising Cheyenne practically on my own was tough. I had the help of my parents, but I didn’t want to pawn Cheyenne off on them too much. I knew I was a good father, but part of me wished that Cheyenne was on the cruise with me.
“Nothing. Let’s go.”
*~*~*
I scoped out our playing field as we made our way to the Promenade, but I didn’t see anyone who was our type. When we first got to the ship, I’d seen plenty of hot chicks. Where they had disappeared to was beyond me. Our cabin must be by all of the old people, because I didn’t see anyone our age walking with us towards the Promenade.
“You really fucking owe me,” I said to Avery—again.
“Dude, relax. Trust me.”
“Do you see these broads? They’re Ma’s age!”
“They have activities for our age group. Fucking relax, there are chicks here our age!”
I had a funny feeling in my gut. I didn’t have anything against older women, but when Avery told me that we were going on a singles cruise, I envisioned hot chicks in bikinis—not grandmas in a one-piece.
We were ushered and packed like sardines into the Promenade as we listened to the Captain’s voice coming overhead through the speakers. He gave us the rundown on safety as we watched the staff mimic what the Captain was saying—like on an airplane.
People were pushing, stepping on toes and not paying attention. I tried to listen, but it was just a cluster fuck of people who were drunk already and not interested in hearing a lecture on safety. I silently prayed that we didn’t hit an iceberg (unlikely on the way to Mexico) when I was pushed to my right, trying not to hit the person next to me to no avail.
“I’m sorry, they keep pushing me,” I said to the brunette beside me. I was just about to point to my left when she looked up at me.
The most emerald green eyes I had ever seen stared back at me, and a smile spread across her face. “It’s okay. It’s a cluster fuck.”
It was like she had read my mind—or had a sailor’s mouth—which I fucking loved. Either way, I wanted to keep talking to her. There was finally someone around my age, and if she was the only one, then Avery and I would have to fight to our death for her. Okay not really, but I saw her first and well…hook, line and sinker.
“It is,” I replied, glancing to my left at the people slightly pushing each other to fit on the side deck. “Is this your first time?”
“Yeah, you?”
“Yeah, my buddy dragged me here.”
“My friend dragged me, too.” She smiled again.
Fuck, that smile.
The Captain finished his spiel that I wasn’t paying attention to, and we were dismissed. People pushed again—like herds of cattle being released. It was fucking crazy.
“What’s the plan now?” I asked her.
We scooted down the hall, Avery in front of me, the hot brunette to my left. “I have a boyfriend, so I’m just here for my friend. I can introduce you if you want?”
“You have a boyfriend and you came on a singles cruise?” I laughed slightly. For some reason, this girl was making me nervous. Usually I had no problems telling a girl what the plan was, but now, I was asking
.
“Like I said, my friend dragged me. Nicole, this is…”
“Easton,” I replied, giving a little nod. We made it into the open lounge area. The Grand Piano started to play in the background as people lined up at the bar. “And this is Avery.”
We shook hands, Avery and Nicole’s hands lingered on each other’s as my and… “I didn’t catch your name…”
“Oh, Brooke. Sorry!”
Even though Brooke said she had a boyfriend, I still wanted to get to know her. The moment I saw her, I forgot about all the possible hook-ups on the cruise. Her smile was like…her smile made my dick hard and my pulse race. Period.
It had been a long time since I had an instant hard-on when I met a chick. Usually I would watch them on the dance floor, their legs glistening from the sweat as they moved to the pounding beat, and then as they leaned over the bar to order a drink, I felt a little twitch in my pants as I stared at their chest. But this—this was fucking instant. I didn’t know what it meant, but I was going to find out, and I had seven nights to do it.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Brooke
I’ve read a lot in romance novels about when you shake hands with or touch the one, you have an instant spark, like electricity running through your body. I’ve never felt that way with anyone before. When Jared and I met at a house party that Nicole dragged me to, I felt nothing as I talked to him and kissed him that night.
I still think that spark is fiction, but as I looked into the cornflower blue eyes of this stranger, my heart felt like it skipped a beat. I didn’t feel the spark when our shoulders smashed into each other as we listened to the safety presentation, but holy fuck, he was fucking hot and tall—at least nine inches taller than me—his five o’clock shadow was growing in, and I had the urge to reach out and run my fingers down his cheek and feel the prickly stubble.
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