by Elodie Colt
“Daniel made me promise to work on my social skills and show people some empathy. In exchange, I’ll get sex twice a day.” After a shrug, she adds, “I like sex.” I laugh, shaking my head. No one on earth can replace this girl.
“It’s different for me, you know…” she continues in a demure tone. “Daniel is the glue holding my broken parts together. You are whole, Ruby. Prudent, mature, always ready to take on the world. You handle your life with ease. You don’t need anyone to fix you.”
I mull over her words for a moment, deeply touched. “So, you’re saying it’s okay if the love between Jesse and me isn’t as strong as the one between you and Daniel?”
“I’m saying that every love is different. You, of all people, should know that.” She throws me a pointed look. “Just because I think Jesse is boring, doesn’t mean he’s boring for you. Don’t let my or Skyla’s opinion second-guess your feelings. As you said, you’re not that adventurous. You like it conventional, so maybe Jesse is exactly the man you need.”
“Thank you.” I squeeze her hand. “That’s what I needed to hear.”
“Good.” She clicks her tongue. “If you’ll excuse me now, I promised Daniel a dance, and I’d rather get it over with before I’m too shit-faced to put one foot in front of the other.”
I lift my glass in a toast. “Have fun.”
“Talking about fun…” Skyla starts when she rocks up from behind, taking Leo’s seat. “I don’t see one guy under forty.” She lets her eyes swerve over the crowd before she gives me a look I can’t decipher. “What do you say, should we paint the town red?”
“What do you mean?”
Skyla shrugs. “I’ve heard there’s a super cool night club just around the corner. We could check it out.”
“But we can’t leave the wedding,” I object. “It’s Sam and Leo’s big day.”
“And we’ve done everything to make it a gorgeous one. This party is over soon.” She points to a cluster of guests who already stifle their yawns before she grabs my hand and yanks me out of my chair. “But the night is still young.”
“Una margarita, por favor!” I shout over the blaring music, and the bartender responds with a thumbs-up.
The place is packed tonight. La Puerta de Alcalá is one of the few fancy night clubs in Veracruz. I’ve been here a few times already, getting tanked and chasing the next best chica to warm my bed. Tonight, I’ll save myself the last part and stick to drinking instead. I’m not in the mood for another Mexican diva.
Propping my elbows on the counter, I watch the people go crazy to the beat. The strobes kick in when the song reaches its high, and I wince, turning to face the bar again and briefly closing my eyes to get rid of the haunting images.
Too late.
The electric lights flickering was the first clue that something was wrong. The two vibrations that shook the earth was the first sign that shit was about to hit the fan. And the fireball shooting up the sky was the last thing I saw before something hit me on the head.
It was like the blowout on Deepwater Horizon back in 2010 when a bubble of methane gas escaped from the well and skyrocketed up the drill column. The result—eleven dead crewmen and an offshore oil spill of about eight thousand barrels per day until they managed to close the cap four months later.
The blowout on Sunray Shell two months ago was ‘not as disastrous’ as the news likes to phrase it, but for me, it was my worst nightmare.
Because I was there. Right in the middle of it.
I know it’s not my fault the oil rig blew up like fireworks, but I can’t stop thinking… Could I have prevented it?
About two years ago, I snagged a job at Transocean Ltd. and started working on Sunray Shell, an offshore platform off the coast of Newfoundland. A beautiful island with friendly folks, an amazing culture, and world-class food.
I loved the job. Loved flying with the helicopter to the rigs, getting my hands dirty, and spending time with the crew. I was offshore for six weeks followed by six weeks of leave with enough free time to explore the world.
I worked my ass off to become a motor hand—the guy responsible for the motor parts and drilling equipment. My salary was insane. My life was fulfilling. Finally, I’d achieved something. It was the first time I wanted to keep a job. Period. Maybe work my way up to become a driller or whatever.
But this dream blew up. Literally.
That Monday morning, the ventilation system failed because one of the roustabouts did a lousy cleaning job. Dangerous fumes rose up, and one spark from a power tool was enough to create a blast the likes of which I’ve never seen. I swear, I thought this was the end of the world. Now, the remains of the rig rest on the seafloor of the Atlantic Ocean.
Lucky me, I got away with a concussion. One of the roughnecks found me buried underneath a pipe, snatched me, and jumped overboard with me. A helicopter airlifted us to a hospital. A few hours later, the news reported that three men didn’t make it, one of them my best friend, Wes. I fled the hospital the same day and was off to Quebec by nightfall.
Since then, I’ve never been in one place for more than a month. Making acquaintances, not friendships. Renting stuff, not buying. Visiting places, not settling down. It’s easier for me without attachments and commitments.
Because whenever I manage to fuse the seams, they crack apart. Just like it happened with Lana six years ago…
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!” someone shrieks from behind me in a clear, American accent, and I nearly spill my margarita when a slap on the shoulder hustles me forward. Whirling around, I meet wide, blue eyes on a tan face. “How the hell did you know we were here?” Before I can utter a word, the blonde answers her question with a smirk. “Ah, you texted Matthew, didn’t you?”
Uh… what now? Who the fuck is Matthew? And who the fuck is this girl?
I give her a quick once-over, wondering if we’ve ever met. She doesn’t seem familiar. Maybe a quickie from a few years ago? Unlikely. I’m quite picky when it comes to my hook-ups, and blondes are not my first choice. I prefer brunettes. The darker, the better.
But I have to admit, the girl is nice eye-candy. One of those beach bunnies with long, white-blonde hair curling over her shoulders in messy waves, sun-kissed skin, and a splatter of freckles on her nose. Her dress is more like a gown with nothing to show off except for her bare arms and ankles. Too elegant for a night club. Too innocent for a quick fuck.
“Hello?” She clicks a finger in front of my face when I take too long to answer.
Hooking one finger into my belt loop, I send her a lopsided grin. “Sure, I texted Matthew,” I say at last, taking the bait. No idea if she’s mistaking me for someone else, or if this is one these I-just-pretend-to-know-you numbers to initiate an easy conversation, but I’m game. Everything for a little distraction.
“You wanted to surprise Ruby!” she squeals, clapping her hands in excitement. I send her a wink and take a long sip from my margarita. Who is Ruby now? “Oh my God, this will knock her off her feet! Okay, listen…” She motions for me to come closer, and I tilt my head to hear her better. “You stay here, and I’ll get Ruby, all right?”
“O-kay…” I mutter in confusion, not sure what else to say, but the surfer chick is already bouncing off and elbowing her way through the crowd. Huh. If this was one of her pick-up lines, she missed the point, I dare say.
With a shrug, I turn to face the bar again, gesturing for the bartender to hand over another margarita. Whoever this girl was, she was either crazy or high on some serious shit. Whatever. Chances are I’ll never see her again.
Letting my hand vanish into my pocket, I fish out my phone and open Wherever It Takes Me—a little app I’ve programmed myself. It shows the world as a globe with a smiley face and tiny arms and legs attached. As soon as you hit the Off You Go! button, the smiley-globe starts to spin, and a pin marks a random location on the earth. Wherever it strikes, this is the place I’m going to visit next.
To make things easi
er, I’ve disabled the entire subarctic climate zone. Had enough of that when I flew to Norilsk, Russia, in January. Covered in snow for two-hundred-fifty days and plagued with snowstorms the rest of the year. Truly, a blessed country. Not.
“iPhone, iPhone in my hand, where’s the next place I will land…” I mumble to myself. Clicking the button, I watch the globe spinning until the smiley winks and waves both hands. “West Palm Beach, Florida,” I say out loud, testing it on my tongue. Sounds more like a holiday than an adventure, but maybe that’s exactly what I need.
“Just a few more steps, Ruby.”
I spin around at hearing the now-familiar voice, shocked when I see the pretty blonde approaching again, but this time, she’s brought a friend—a friend with hair like a liquid curtain of chocolate and a timid smile on her face.
“Skyla, what the hell are you up to? I can’t see where I’m going!” she complains, blindly teetering forward while her companion covers her eyes with her hands.
Ruby and Skyla… I let the names tumble inside my head, but nothing clicks. What are the odds that those two chicks are into a threesome? Maybe that was the surprise the blonde meant. And one I wouldn’t negate, that’s for sure.
They both wear the same dress with similar hairstyles, so my first guess is that they are bridesmaids who just came from a wedding. While both look pretty in their gowns, it fits the brunette way better, her busty forefront stretching the fabric.
By the time Skyla pulls Ruby to a halt a few feet in front of me, I’m nearly as excited as them, impatiently waiting for the blonde to drop her hands and reveal the brunette’s eyes.
And when she does, my first thought is that a mermaid materialized in front of me. The silver eyeshadow on her lids enhances her moss-green irises, and her dark, full brows make a perfect arc on her porcelain face. Her milky skin is flawless, and even with the makeup on her face, I know there’s not one blemish. A set of lush pink, heart-shaped lips curl into a smile when she blinks up at me.
A smile that is my undoing.
Because that smile is neither sultry nor mischievous. It’s not the I-know-you-can’t-resist-me, please-take-me smile that I’ve seen a thousand times before. Far from it.
It’s a genuine, heart-wrenching smile that lights up her face as if she’s waited an eternity to see me. A smile no girl ever reserved for me. Not even Lana. The only one she sent those smiles to was Jesse, and—
Jesse!
Shit, what are the odds that this girl thinks I’m my twin brother? Absolutely impossible. Jesse’s hooking up with Lana again, and Tara told me he still lived in the states. I mean, that girl is definitely not Mexican, but a connection between her and Jesse would be too much of a coincidence.
“You’re here,” she mutters in astonishment.
Throwing her arms around me, she pulls me into a hug that feels so intimate, I freeze like a statue. Her shaky breath ghosts along my ear as her hands claw at my neck, her soft cheek chafing against mine, her forefront flush with my chest. “When did you come back? You missed the wedding.”
“Uh…” I falter, searching for an excuse, but thankfully, Ruby beats me to it.
“Doesn’t matter. You came back sooner. For me.”
Stunned, I throw a helpless look at Skyla, but she’s oblivious to my inner torment, sending me a wink before vanishing in the crowd. Ruby’s face is buried in my neck, embracing me as if she doesn’t want to let go.
And then it clicks. This is not a game. They truly think I’m someone else!
I gulp, knowing I have to clear up this misunderstanding and likely break Ruby’s heart. The crazy urge to wrap my hands around her is nearly overwhelming, but whatever the fuck is going on here, I have to stop this before things get out of control. “Ruby, I don’t—”
“You made my day,” she utters with a soft chuckle, pulling back to look at me. “This is the best surprise I’ve ever had.”
And just like that, I forget the words I’ve wanted to say, drowning in her eyes now glistening with unshed tears. Damn, this girl is beautiful. I swear she’s a second version of that hot chick from The Vampire Diaries.
Focus, Raphael. She’s waiting for you to say something. Think fast.
Okay, I’ve got two options.
Option one—be upfront, and tell her that she’s got it all wrong. That, whoever she thinks I am, I’m not this guy.
Option two—ignore her feelings, take up the challenge, and play the game. You know, I love challenges, and this is the best one that ever fell into my lap. However, should I decide to pull that move, I have to bear in mind that this will blow up in my face big-time. Likely within the next five minutes. It’s a game I can’t win.
Ruby’s melodic laugh shakes me out of my dark musings. “What’s going on with you? Did I render you speechless? You look at me like…”
“Like?” I press when she lets the sentence hang in the air.
Her eyes flicker between mine, and the way she bites her lip ignites a spark inside me. She leans in so close, our noses almost touch. “Like you want to do dirty things to me right here on the dance floor.”
Good Lord. Why, oh why did she have to open her pretty mouth? Now, I picture her naked in all her glory, spreading those ivory legs for me.
She drags her lower lip through her teeth again, and it’s only then I notice that my hands are on her hips, clawing into her flesh.
“Won’t you give me a welcome kiss? One that shows me how much you missed me?” she croons, looking up at me in expectation.
What is utterly mysterious to me—she thinks I’m her boyfriend slash lover. Someone she’s intimate with. Someone she knows inside out. Who the heck is this guy who seems to be a spitting image of me? Is there a second twin I don’t know about? Or is Jesse involved, after all?
Fuck if I care. This girl is waiting for a kiss, and I’d be damned if I didn’t seize the chance. “Honey, you’ll get a kiss that shows you how fucking glad I am you stumbled into my arms.”
Before she can question the meaning of my words, I yank her into me to kiss the lips I’ve wanted to devour ever since she spoke her first words, and she sucks in a breath when I claim her mouth. She tastes like roses after a summer rain. Fresh and pure and fucking delicious. Her fingers tighten their hold when I lean into her in nothing short of desperation, arching her back until she nearly topples over.
“That made my day,” I repeat her words from earlier when I pull her up again. She should have figured out by now that I’m an impostor unless the guy tastes like me and is also an exceptional kisser.
Ruby gapes at me as if she can’t believe what just happened, and I count the seconds in my head, waiting for a bitch-slap and a string of profanities. Instead, her eyes swerve over the dance floor as if searching for someone. Her blonde friend, currently dancing with two guys at once, catches her gaze. Skyla’s eyes jump between us before she grins, mouthing a clear ‘Go.’
Go where?
All of a sudden, Ruby moves so close, her lower belly rubs against my crotch, and there’s no way she can’t feel the iron rod straining my jeans. The thrill of it all made me damn hard.
“Let’s continue this night in my bed,” she whispers in a suggestive tone that shoots straight down to my libido. Snatching my hand, she turns around, ready to drag me out, but I find the sense to stop her.
“Wait, uh… do you want to leave already? I thought you wanted to celebrate with Skyla,” I say, choosing my words with care.
“It seems Skyla and I found what we were looking for,” she replies with a wink, then rises up on her toes to whisper in my ear, “I haven’t had sex in four weeks. The least you can do is make up for it.”
I curse under my breath, and she smirks, oblivious to what she’s doing to me. Seriously, this girl is giving me a run for my money!
Slowly, I take her hands in mine, making it look like a loving gesture. If there’s a wedding band on her finger, I’m out. I break hearts, not marriages.
There’s no ring on her f
inger, and the realization fills me with a mixture of relief and dread. I might be a lot of things, but I’m not an asshole. I never make any promises to the women I screw, and while I didn’t make any to Ruby, I took over all the promises the other guy in the picture made to her the second I impersonated him.
God sent me an angel, but touching her makes me a sinner.
Well, father… open the gates of hell for me.
When I woke up that morning, I was in such a bad mood that I could have started a war with my temper. I even bawled out Kendra with a snappy ‘I don’t give a fuck’ when she asked me which earrings I wanted to wear. I came back to my senses when I realized I was close to busting the wedding.
Funny how quickly the tables have turned because right now, I could kiss the entire world. Jesse came back two weeks sooner. For me. Can you believe that?
Jesse’s first priority is always work. Okay, before you boo me here for letting him get away with this, let me tell you that it’s a mutual agreement between us. Unless there’s an emergency, duty comes first—within reason, of course. This way, we keep it harmonious when I have to spend the weekend studying, or he has to leave for one of his many field trips.
It was all fine and dandy until he screwed things up four weeks ago, but I’m still utterly shocked that he took the next flight to Mexico just because I was a grumpy cat yesterday. Why the change of heart, I wonder?
I decide it doesn’t matter. Not now when we hurry to get inside, striving to reconnect with each other and letting our love blaze up once more. The heated kiss he bestowed on me just minutes ago has left its marks—my pulse is high, my cheeks are red, and my panties are damp. Thank God, I declined the last round of tequila, and I’m still halfway clear in my head to savor the best part of the night.
I throw Jesse a glance from under my lashes, trying to figure out what made him change his mind overnight. There’s a frown contorting his face, and he munches on the inside of his cheek as if he’s waging an inner war. He doesn’t look at me, and if I didn’t know any better, I’d say he’s avoiding eye contact.