by C. L. Stone
We’re going to fix this. There wasn’t going to be an easy fix.
“You weren’t wrong to think I liked you,” I said. “It’s not that I didn’t want to get close. I had to force myself to back off because I knew going too far was wrong if I didn’t tell you about the others.”
“I understand,” he said, his voice lowering to almost a whisper. “Maybe not everyone on the team understands, but I do. That was a lot of pressure to be under, especially when you needed us. Axel had warned us to be careful, to give you space when you first showed up. He’d even suggested we shouldn’t try to…be more than friends. We were so pissed when we overheard him talking to you, not just because it sounded like he was pressuring you, but because he’d told us to back off and we thought he was a hypocritical ass.”
It had been hypocritical of Axel to tell them to back off. But even I had told myself not to get close to any of them at first—I knew how hard it was to stay away.
“I can’t fix this right now,” I said. I wanted to, but I knew it would take time, time we didn’t have on board this ship with everything else going on. It was enough for now knowing he didn’t hate me completely. “It’s unfair to talk to you about this without the others. I need to talk to all of them. But first, we need to get Raven back. Help me at least get to the bottom of this.”
He nodded slowly.
Then his palm brushed up, his fingertips against my cheek.
The edge of his thumb traced over my bottom lip.
His sad, deeply emotional eyes fixed right on me.
I stilled, waiting, looking at him. I couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe. I didn’t dare wish.
His gaze fell to my mouth. He swallowed and then licked the edges of his lips. “Maybe I shouldn’t ask, but I need to know. Liam said you couldn’t choose between us, but then Axel said you’d had…I mean, with him, and with Blake.”
I remained quiet for a while, unsure if he was asking a question.
His hand froze on my face and he spoke quietly. “I just need to know if I’m…if you and I…if I’m one of the ones you can’t choose between.”
I was surprised. Hadn’t Liam made it clear? “Yes,” I said quickly. “I thought Liam was going to tell you.”
“He did,” he said, his eyes drifting up to meet mine again. “But then he asked about Corey and then questioned us about Kevin, even Doyle.”
I made a gagging sound at thinking he’d asked about Doyle. “I told him no about Kevin. Obviously not Doyle. I told him about Corey not being interested, but he didn’t believe me. I didn’t want to be the one to tell him Corey is gay.” I tilted my head back. “Liam doesn’t really know much about us, so I can’t blame him.”
I was going to say more, but Brandon’s hand smoothed down my cheek, stopping at the side of my neck, warm against my skin.
When I looked at him, his eyes were deep pools of emotion.
“I don’t care about that,” he said. “I just want to know how you feel about me.”
I pressed my lips together, swallowing, and felt the rush of heat through my neck and cheeks. I wanted to be honest, but I also worried about his feelings, and if I was doing more harm than good. I cared about him, but he had been jealous over the others before. Would the rift grow between him and his friends if I told him everything I was feeling?
I studied him: his tan skin, light hair, and blue eyes. There was a dip just under his lower lip and his full mouth.
Then I realized I was staring at his lips.
His hand on my neck shifted up, pushing my jaw slightly. “Please,” he said. “Tell me. I need to hear it.”
“I can’t stand being away from you,” I said quietly. I continued to stare at his cheeks, his nose, his eyebrows, avoiding looking directly at his eyes; I didn’t want to break down here. “It killed me to back away from you when you got close. I never wanted to hurt you, and it felt like I was each time…”
He exhaled quickly and leaned in close. “Did I ever push you?” he asked. “Did I ever say anything wrong?”
I reached up, cupping his cheeks in my hands to redirect his attention.
His hands fell to my waist, holding me. His breathing was raspy, and his eyes darted from my eyes to my lips and back.
“I loved it when you pushed,” I said, finally looking up into his eyes. “Sometimes, I wished you had pushed harder. I probably would have given in.”
In his intense stare, so close, I saw him weigh what I said.
I was surprised at my own words, though they were true. Not that I wanted him to push if I’d said no, but had I? Never. Not to him. He’d just felt me hesitating and stopped himself every time.
“I don’t want to pressure you now,” he whispered. His expressive eyes lowered again to my lips. “Tell me if you don’t want me to.”
I remained completely still.
He kissed me once, softly. It wasn’t his usual kiss, but like he was testing me, allowing me a chance to tell him to back off.
I tugged slightly at his cheeks, pulling him toward my face, and then moved my arms to wrap around his neck.
His kiss deepened, but after a moment, he backed his head up slowly, looking at me.
I raised an eyebrow. “Is something wro—”
At the same moment, he spoke in a rush: “I love you.”
Electricity zoomed through my heart and out to my limbs—throughout my whole body. I stared at his eyes. “What?” I said, breathless, before I could even think of anything else. Had I heard him right? Had he just said what I thought he’d said?
His eyes went wide, and his face turned several shades of red. He gripped my waist tightly. “I…didn’t mean to say that now. I…” His face contorted in confusion, and then one of his arms shifted and he touched his ear, turning away from me.
“Shut up. It’s none of your business,” he barked.
The earpiece. I hadn’t checked to see if he was wearing it. Who was listening?
He grumbled, then yanked the earpiece from his ear and held it in his fist away from us. “If I didn’t have to hang on to it, I’d throw it over.”
“Don’t,” I said and I smiled at him. What he’d said had sunk in. I didn’t care who heard him. If it was Doyle, then it really wasn’t his business. I’d been holding out on Brandon, and he still felt so strongly about me. “You’re right. It’s none of his business.”
He looked back at me, studying my face. Finally, he gave me a hesitant smile. “Did I just mess up?”
“No,” I said. I leaned in and kissed him on the lips. Just once.
He let me, closing his eyes, holding my waist.
When I backed up, I waited until his eyes opened and he was looking at me again. “I’ve been falling for you for…a while.” It was true. At first, he’d driven me crazy. He’d argued with me. He’d pushed me.
Then there was the time he’d held me after I woke up crying from a bad dream. He’d kissed me then, and made so many promises. I’d wanted to believe them.
Hadn’t he kept his promises to me? As much as I would let him?
Voices drifted from the hallway, drawing me back to the reality that we were on this ship, on the sundeck. We had work to do.
He was still staring at me and holding me, but something was different. It was a long moment before I realized what it was: his eyes looked slightly less lost than normal. There wasn’t time to think too hard on that, though.
I waved at him to get his attention.
“Brandon,” I said. “I know you want to talk, but we should probably go. Let’s get Raven and get off this stupid boat.”
He nodded and then released me. “Sorry,” he said. “You’re right. I just…thank you.”
I waved a dismissive hand. I was ecstatic. He knew about everything. He’d said he loved me. Despite everything, he knew and he was still here.
Hope surged through me. I was on a high after kissing him and hearing his feelings for me, but I couldn’t los
e sight of what we needed to do. “Can we go down to the spa?” I asked. “Just for a couple of minutes. Just one look.”
He swallowed, swept his fingers through his hair, and then nodded. “We need to be really careful. Our advantage right now is that no one knows you’re back. Let’s keep it that way.”
I agreed. We waited until the hallway was clear, and Brandon guided me out.
Unforgettable Spa
As I followed Brandon through the halls of the cruise ship, I kept replaying his words in my head.
Brandon had to put the earpiece back into his ear to get directions that would help us avoid Sam, but Doyle let us know he was still well away from the spa.
Since it was still early, most of the guests were picking out which restaurants to go to for breakfast, or were heading to the pool. Shops hadn’t opened yet, and the casino was closed for cleaning.
Brandon’s attitude had seemed to change, the anger and sadness replaced with determination. He said he understood about the others; I hoped he meant it and would still feel the same once we were off the ship.
Yet he’d said something that none of the others had.
He loved me.
I stole repeated glances of him as we walked. Brandon could have been angry about my not telling him about the others, but he’d only asked about my feelings. He’d seemed a little surprised…and then he had accepted it. Said he understood.
It wasn’t a horrible thing, but it wasn’t what I was expecting. Most guys I had known would have called me foul names and left me without much thought if I’d admitted to having been with other guys.
It struck me as funny now that Axel hadn’t seemed to hesitate either. He’d rushed right up first thing, hugged me, and then, in the bedroom, when I’d told him about Blake, he’d seemed ticked but had taken it really well. Brandon had simply accepted it.
It made me realize that maybe I didn’t really understand them at all, which was sort of the point of why I couldn’t choose. I hadn’t expected such a reaction. I hadn’t given myself a chance to learn their depth, how they thought, how they felt.
Brandon brushed his hand against mine as we walked, even though he had plenty of room on his side of the hallway. Even as I stepped away a bit to give him space, he stayed right beside me.
A few times, his fingers almost twined with mine, but he seemed to stop himself and pulled away, only to continue to brush against me again as we walked on.
After so many mixed emotions, I needed a minute to myself.
I made him stop by the bathroom, which gave me a good excuse; I needed to straighten myself and to check on my pad anyway.
He kept an eye out at the door. He didn’t like me going in alone, but I warned him security would get called down if there was a guy lurking around in the woman’s bathroom.
The bathroom was tiny, with only two stalls and one counter with a sink and hand dryer, and thankfully empty.
I stood there looking at myself in the mirror. Some of my lipstick had smudged, but otherwise, my face was okay.
Brandon had kissed me. He’d told me he loved me.
He wasn’t the first guy to admit he loved me. I’d had boys in elementary school tell me such things. I’d rarely believed it, though. In high school, with a few boyfriends here and there, they’d said it and I’d said it back.
I wasn’t sure if I ever meant it. At least not until now.
I kept hearing his words over and over again in my head. He hadn’t meant to tell me yet. I imagined it meant he’d known for a while but had never said anything. How long had he known?
Would it have changed things if he’d said something earlier? Would I have let him say it?
Would I have dared say I loved him in return if I hadn’t gone overboard, nearly died, and sworn since then to be honest with them?
I hated to say it, but I was starting to wonder why it had taken me until I had faced death to be willing to be so honest. That included letting others be honest around me, and believing them.
I heard an echo, like someone entering the men’s bathroom next door. It brought me back to what I was doing. I needed to hurry before someone came inside.
Luckily there was a free feminine product machine inside the women’s restroom. I took a pad into the stall and locked the door.
It shocked me how heavy the flow was despite my feeling fine, no cramps like before. I blamed stress again.
When I came back out, we headed to the stairs, knowing the elevators were busy. Breakfast was calling.
When we came across other people using the stairs as well, Brandon hid his face.
“Why are you doing that?” I asked.
“Corey’s out and about,” he whispered to me. “We might need to pull our little twin switch later, and I don’t want people seeing there’s two of us.”
“Let Fancy do your makeup.”
“Nope,” he said. “Last resort.”
I couldn’t blame him, but I wondered if he got uncomfortable around Fancy. She’d once gotten him to go to a party as her date, and I hadn’t told him going in about her man handle.
We headed down a few decks. By deck four, I was wheezing. I silently cursed my body for being so weak.
He smirked at me. “Seriously? We’ve only gone down three levels.”
“I’m tired,” I said, pouting, but it was harder to pout when I was breathing so heavy. “I’ve had a rough night.” Normally it wasn’t that big of a deal, but the day before had really wiped me out. Or maybe it was my period.
He seemed worried, but once I’d caught my breath, I was okay for the rest of the steps down, though I was breathing heavy again on the last flight.
Deck two had a small atrium with what looked like a fake garden in front of the spa entryway. A fountain—which wasn’t flowing at the moment—stood in the center, and there were potted flowers and bushes around it. The bushes looked too finely sculpted to be real. As we followed the blue-and-white striped carpet, it appeared to be weaving like a path around the garden. I got the feeling the carpet was supposed to represent water.
The spa’s double doors were made of glass, with black Japanese lettering down one panel. A gold-framed sign on the wall next to the door had a list of available treatments, like body wraps, mud baths, and massages.
I’d never even looked at spas except to walk by them at the malls. The last time I’d been on the ship, I’d gone to a Japanese bath, but that was on a different part of the ship. This was more like a spa I saw ads for around Charleston. I thought it was all potion-brewing. If I wanted to stick mud on my face, I’d go roll around in the dirt. Why would I ever pay good money for it?
It didn’t appear anyone was around, but it was still early. Someone was running a vacuum inside. I wasn’t even sure it was open yet.
I lingered at the door, gazing in but seeing only a sitting area and a fancy desk. There were more plants inside, next to cushioned chairs. Magazines were fanned out on a coffee table. No attendants in sight.
I tested the door. Unlocked. I held the door open only an inch. I waited, studying the desk, anticipating a worker to come by, or to be hit on the head from behind like Blake, but nothing happened. I released the door, just looking in the glass.
Brandon stuck his hands into his pockets and glanced around. He stepped over to the list of treatments and read it. “What?” he asked while still reading. “See anything?”
Nothing to see yet. “Maybe…you should go in,” I said.
“Why?”
“Ask for…you know. A happy ending.”
He rolled his eyes. “No, thanks.”
“I mean, just to see if they say yes,” I said. “You don’t have to go through with it. Slip them extra money and see if they’ll take it and offer up the bonus. Or if they call Sam down.”
“Why?” he asked.
“Just to see if they do. And then maybe…I don’t know.” I didn’t really have a plan. I just wanted to see what happened
if you ordered something special. If Sam came down to talk to him, it would prove his point that there was prostitution going on, and we’d know we were on the right track. However, I wasn’t sure what that would do for us.
Brandon came toward me, held my elbow, and pointed toward the doors, urging me in. “He won’t talk to Corey, he’s not going to talk to me,” he said. “But maybe it’s not a waste to come down here. Come with me, but follow my lead.”
I hurried in with him, glad he had come up with something. Winging it was mostly my thing.
Inside the waiting area, the air was thick with chemical smells: hairspray, shampoo, and nail polish mingled with incense. There was also some fresh sea air trying to cancel it all out. Someone had a window open? Could you open windows on a ship? Maybe it was air freshener.
Now that we could see further inside, there was a wide expanse of windows looking out over the ocean. There were sunning chairs out on the balcony, nicer than those around the pool and on the sundecks. The spa’s chairs had cushions, pillows, and embroidered towels folded at the foot of each.
To the left and right were signs about stations for nail care and hair salons, and the hallways continued around the ship. Blue, gold, and beige were the reigning colors of everything, and fancy script letter Ls were tacked up tastefully in different locations.
There was a bubbling sound, like a fountain, further in, although I couldn’t see its source. Music played, a soothing flute and piano tune.
We approached the desk quietly. The vacuuming continued to the left, further down the hall. We peeked down the hallways, each lined with closed doors. I couldn’t tell what was inside, but whoever was vacuuming was in one of the rooms or around a bend somewhere.
“Check the desk,” Brandon whispered to me. He handed me a small USB key. “Put this in their computer.”
“Why?”
“It’ll make a copy of the files.” Then he handed me his cell phone. “And there’s a physical appointment book—take pictures of the schedule with this.”
Didn’t we have access to all this information already? I hadn’t even thought to ask Doyle or anyone about the computer.