Rock the Boat

by Gia Riley

  Would I have flirted with Lark under normal circumstances? Absolutely.

  Would I have wanted her in my bed? Definitely.

  Would I have taken her on a date and then made plans to see her again? Never.

  Without The Perfect Match setup, we wouldn’t have gotten this close. Now because of Gina and her inability to let me live my life on my own, I’m royally fucked. All I can do is lean against my closet, staring at the backside of my stateroom door wondering what I’m going to do come Saturday. How am I going to let this woman walk away from me now that I know how good she feels in my arms?

  Dom opens the adjoining door to our rooms, tossing a can of beer at me. He pokes his head around the corner, searching for signs of Lark. “Is she gone?”

  Had he done it five minutes ago, he’d be getting an earful about knocking. But even Dom isn’t used to a girl being in my room on a regular basis. “Yeah, what’s up?”

  He takes one last swig of his beer before crumbling the aluminum can in his hand and tossing it in the trash. “Nothing, haven’t seen you much this week.”

  “Blame it on your girlfriend. Gina’s the one who set this whole plan in motion.”

  Dom moves to the couch, flicking through the channels on my flat screen like he’s actually going to find something worth watching. “I’m so tired of shit TV. It’s like they want you to watch their lame-ass station all day.”

  “I’m pretty sure they do, but why don’t you tell me why you’re really here. You have your own remote to toss around.”

  He rests his head against the back of the whiskey stained couch that I’ll probably end up paying for before they let me off the ship. “It’s Gina, man. I’m not even going to lie, she sent me in here.”

  “You’re a couple of stubborn fuckers. Are you fighting again?”

  “I hate to say it, but I think you have us both beat in that department.”

  “What’d I do?”

  “As much as it pains me to say this, I agree with Gina this time.”

  I drape my towel over my shoulder, wondering why he’s talking in code like a chick. “About?”

  “You need to tell Lark about Shay. You’ve been spending a lot of time together. The longer you wait, the harder it’s going to be, and she’s going to be pissed if you keep it from her.”

  Three sentences and my entire mood shifts, and not for the better. “I don’t owe Lark anything when it comes to Shay. It’s not about her, or what she needs right now.”

  “But it is, East. Especially when you’re still hung up on someone else.”

  “I’m not hung up, Dom. I loved the ever loving shit out of Shay. It’s my choice who I tell and when I do it. End of conversation. Not to mention, Lark has a hang up of her own that she’s told me a little bit about. I’m not the only one with a past.”

  Dom stands up, holding his hands out in surrender. “I’m glad you’re talking instead of fucking, but she deserves to know. I’ll leave it at that.”

  “Not that it’s any of your business, but we’re definitely fucking. And Lark already asked about my tattoo.”

  He raises a brow, seemingly surprised. “What’d you say?”

  “Nothing yet. I guess she pieced it together after the show the other night.”

  The obligatory look of pity passes between us, the one I’ve grown to hate more than the questions that go along with it. “Even if it’s only the bare minimum, tell her the truth.”

  “When and if I decide to talk about Shay, I won’t hold back. Shay deserves more than that. But right now, I’m pretty sure all I need to do is find another drink.”

  “Because when shit gets real and you finally start to feel something other than loss, you purposely fuck it up so you can stay in the past. But I have news for you, you can’t keep using Shay as an excuse. Holding onto a woman who would want you to keep living isn’t going to make life easier. Being happy is the only thing that can do that.”

  “Jesus, you’ve been spending too much time with Gina.”

  “Considering we’re all you have, someone has to get your head out of your ass. Think long and hard about what you’re setting Lark up for, she has no idea what she’s up against. I actually feel bad for her.”

  “At least I know where your loyalties lie.”

  “That’s not what I meant. Gina did this for you as a gift, and I encouraged her because if I have to see her cry over your drama one more day, I’ll kick your ass myself.”

  “It is what it is, Dom. I don’t need the favor.”

  “If you didn’t need the favor, we’d have gotten off this damn ship six months ago. Take a look around, East! Is this the life you want for the next fifty years?”

  I get what he’s saying, but it doesn’t make it any easier to hear. Not when I’ve lived in denial for so long. Long enough to forget what life used to be like. The excitement; the never-ending rush of adrenaline that kept me up most of the night every single time I performed; the way I bled music instead of pain. But no matter how much I miss those things, in the grand scheme of things, it really doesn’t change a thing. “You forget I have enough money in my bank account to live comfortably for the rest of my life. I can give this all up tomorrow and go on without it.”

  Dom tilts his head back, exhaling as he grabs fistfuls of his shoulder length hair. “You’re a hopeless fucker, you know that?”

  “I’ve been called worse.”

  Dom shakes his head like I’m a lost cause and walks back toward his room, but just as I think this little intervention is finally over, he turns around again. I brace for impact because the look on his face is anything but pleasant. “Not that you care about my opinion, but Lark’s exactly what you need to get your head on straight—and hopefully back on dry land. If you fuck it up, it’s on you this time. Gina’s done trying. I’m done trying, Easton. Make a decision, but make sure it’s one you can live with.”

  I’ve never liked being told what to do. It’s probably the reason why I ended up with a career where I call the shots. It’s not that I can’t take direction, it’s just that I have a set plan. Only my plan went to shit before I came up with a backup. “I can take care of myself, Dom. You’re not exactly a shining example of how to get over someone.”

  He braces his arms on the door frame, his eyes full of rage. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “I mean, you fucked up and never told Gina.”

  “Told me what?” Gina asks from the doorway, as she wraps her arms around Dom’s waist from behind.

  My eyes widen and I wonder how much of this conversation she’s heard. As much as I don’t agree with what Dom did, I would never intentionally out him. His eyes lock with mine, both challenging and begging me to say something to Gina. As much as I want him to tell her the truth, it’s not my story to tell. He’s the one who has to lie down beside her every night with a guilty conscience. “Nothing, I’ll be in the shower.”

  Dom turns around and walks back into his room. Gina glances at me, but I don’t hang around long enough to answer any of her questions. I never agreed with his choices, but I’m not about to get in the middle of it either. Then again the thud against the door is my first clue shit’s already going down.

  Fuck. Me.

  After another shit meeting with my manager on the ship, I can’t get to the bar fast enough. I’d rather sleep the afternoon away but with the way things ended with Dom and Gina, going back there is the last thing I want to do.

  Aki’s working in the pub today which means free drinks, so that’s exactly where my ass ends up. One look at me and he slides my favorite whiskey across the bar. There’s no nursing the drinks today. No, today I pound them, one after another until the warmth I’m searching for finds me.

  Just as I set my empty glass back on the bar, an annoying cackle of laughter makes me cringe. When I’m around the right people, I’m a happy as fuck drunk, but my luck has me next to a table full of Canadians—some of the happiest damn people on the planet.

  I conte
mplate leaving the pub, just to get away from them, when a sexy blonde sits down at the opposite end of the table. Her eyes scan the crowd she’s with, but she’s as dead behind the eyes as I feel inside. She looks like she’d rather be anywhere other than where she is. And not one of them acknowledges her presence.

  Like she senses me watching her, she turns her head, eyeing me from head to toe. Subtlety isn’t something I’m accustomed to, and her lack of it doesn’t even bother me. It takes her all of thirty seconds to slip out of her seat and into the stool beside me. “What’s your name?” she asks when I don’t make any attempt to speak to her.

  “Does it matter?”

  “Do I matter?” she challenges. There’s no doubt in my mind she would be the easiest lay I’ve had in a long time. Underappreciated chicks are always the fun ones. All that pent up sexual frustration being unleashed on me instead of the guy who should be taking care of her.

  Aki slides another napkin in front of me before setting my refilled glass on top of it. He looks between the two of us, shaking his head as he does. “Don’t even tempt yourself, East. Not when you already have one.”

  His voice of reason turns my attention away from the temptation sitting next to me. “Aki, you think so little of me.” But he’s right, I do have better. There was no way Canada was making it back to my bed, but I tip him double anyway as a silent thank-you for having my back.

  She sees me drop the cash on the bar, probably wondering why it’s not going on my sea pass card like everyone else. When I push away from the bar top, she looks stunned. “Where are you going?”

  I lean closer to her, my body brushing against hers. I’m so close, her hair tickles my lips. Slowly, so her confidence isn’t crushed, I tell her, “Sweetheart, if I was available, you’d be my first choice.”

  Instead of disappointment, her eyes light up at the possibilities that will never be. I help her off her stool before turning around and walking out of the pub. Whoever gets a taste of her tonight is going to be damn lucky.

  As soon as I’m out of the pub, the onslaught of sunshine is blinding. It used to ground me to the point I craved it. But after months of the same, it’s become routine like everything else in my life. And days like today when we’re at sea, there’s very few places to escape to, especially when all I want is some space to clear my head.

  About a month ago, Gina and I found a private lounge on the tenth deck. Other than being used for private parties, it doesn’t get much use. But on a good day, usually right before or after an event, the bar is fully stocked. Being a sea day, there’s a fifty/fifty chance it’s empty, the possibility of a little peace and quiet making me walk that much faster.

  I get lucky when I push on the door and am met with complete silence. Full bottles of Jim and Jack are on the shelf. Both have been good to me over the past couple years, but I grab the bottle already opened and line the bar with four shot glasses, filling them to the brim.

  The first slides down my throat with the same familiar burn that’s kept me company more nights than I can count. I chase it with the second shot, another inferno erupting inside me. The third glass is in my shaky hand just as the doors open behind me. I expect a janitor or an event planner, but it’s neither. Gina rushes inside, hysterically crying. She catches her heel on the carpet, catapulting her to the floor in front of her. She falls on her hands and knees, her hair sticking to the tears rolling down her cheeks.

  Dom finally told her the truth.

  I let her get it out of her system, watching from the edge of the bar. But when she starts punching the floor with a closed fist, I move to stop her. She fights me at first, yelling a string of colorful curses before she realizes she’s not strong enough to stop me.

  But she doesn’t give up. As soon as I set her down on the couch, she swings at my face, her fist hitting me square in the jaw. It knocks my teeth together, but she doesn’t make any effort to stop fighting. “Gina, it’s me. Stop it.”

  As soon as she hears my voice, her body physically deflates in my arms. Instead of fighting me, she reaches out, latching onto my shirt. All I can do is rub her back as she lays her head in my lap, curling into a little ball of brokenness.

  There are so many things I want to say to her, mostly that I’m sorry she didn’t find out sooner. I knew keeping the secret was wrong, but it didn’t seem right to tell her either. No matter what I did, one of my best friends was going to get hurt. And the last thing I could handle was another argument. It’s why I’m so relieved when she says, “I’m sorry I hit you.” If it was me she was mad at, she wouldn’t be apologizing.

  “It’s not the first time I’ve taken a punch. Probably won’t be the last.”

  “You smell like whiskey.”

  “That’s because I’m drinking it.”

  “You usually only drink whiskey when you’re thinking about Shay.”

  When I don’t answer her, she raises her head, her puffy eyes searching my face for clues about what’s going on with me. “What happened, East?”

  “Shouldn’t I be asking you that question?”

  “Yes, but if you dumped Lark I’ll kill you, so why waste time with my problems if you’re just going to be dead anyway.”

  I can’t help but laugh at her incredibly morbid outlook. “I’m seeing her tonight, relax.”

  She wipes her tears on her sleeve, her eyes still shining, but a little more hopeful. “So, it’s going well? You like her?”

  “Yeah, I like her. She’s a cool chick.”

  “But do you see yourself falling in love with her someday? Or are you just using her for sex until she goes home? I’ll warn you, if you pick option two, I’m feeling pretty hateful right now. I can’t be sure I won’t punch you again.”

  “The sex is fuckin’ incredible, but as far as more than that, I have no idea. It’s too soon to say one way or another.”

  “Be honest with me. You must have told her something or she wouldn’t keep coming back for more.”

  “I left it up to her—if she came back, great. If she didn’t, life goes on. But the plans for tonight, I made before she left this morning.”

  “You’re so stupid, Easton. What if she had walked away before you had a chance to decide if you felt something for her which from the look on your face, I can tell you already do.”

  “Whatever you think you see, I promise that’s not what it is. I’m more worried about you than Lark right now. What happened?” It’s wrong of me to play dumb. I know damn well what just happened between them.

  “Dom happened, but finish this conversation first. You’re the only person left in my life who doesn’t bullshit me. It’s the reason I put up with your drama.”

  “Well, since you put it that way.”

  She smacks me, but she still manages to laugh—a genuine laugh that finally puts a hint of a smile back on her face. “If you can’t be honest with me, then be honest with yourself, East. It’s okay if you feel something for Lark. You’re human.”

  “I think I need a couple more shots before I have this conversation.” I expect Gina to protest, but she surprises me when she follows me to the bar, grabbing a glass of her own from the stack on the shelf. Only she’s not a hard liquor kind of girl. Even though I’ve never seen her venture too far beyond beer, I pour her some whiskey anyway. “You’re sure you want to do this?”

  “I need it,” she says, before she gulps down half of it, her hand holding the glass shaking like an addict in need of a fix. But as soon as the glass hits the bar, she covers her mouth with the back of her hand, gagging from its strength. “I can’t believe people pay for this shit. Why not just go suck down some gasoline instead?”

  “Because it’s effective—numbs even the worst of days.”

  “Why is this a bad day?” she questions, as she holds her stomach.

  “I should ask you the same thing. Where’s Dom?”

  Now that I’ve reminded her of why she was here in the first place, she looks to her glass like it holds the answe
rs to her pain. “Probably screwing the rest of the dance team.”

  “In his defense, you two were on a break.”

  “Whose side are you on? Break or no break, it doesn’t make what he did right, Easton. In my heart, we were still together even when we were apart. I’ve never once quit him.” This time she ditches the glass entirely, instead going right to the source. Her lips wrap around the top of the bottle and she tilts her head back.

  “Do you want a straw or something?”

  Whiskey drips from her chin as she sputters to catch her breath again. “Shut up and let me drink. That’s why we come here, right?”

  “Right, but you’re not usually such an angry drunk.”

  “I’m angry because as mad as I am, I’m going to end up going back to him like he never had sex with someone else. Because I’m so in love with Dom, I’d probably hurl myself over the side of the ship if I had to wake up without him tomorrow. And that makes me the most pathetic person I’ve ever known.”

  “You’re not pathetic. There was a time I’d have done the same damn thing.”

  “What about Lark? Would you do the same for her?”

  “What we have isn’t the same as you and Dom. I’m still getting to know Lark. It’s only been a couple days. But I’d have done the exact same thing with Shay. That much I’m sure of.”

  “That’s the thing with you though. You don’t love easily, but when you do, you love so damn hard. I can tell you feel more for Lark than you’re willing to admit right now. And that’s okay because I see it in your eyes when I say her name. You think she’s capable of being on the same level as Shay someday, and that scares you shitless. Am I right?”

  “I’m not denying I have a connection with Lark, but it’s the guilt I can’t stand. This morning, it felt like I was being strangled after she left the room. I keep asking myself if this is worth it because as great as it is to be with her—to be connected to someone again, I feel like Shay’s watching every move I make. And it makes me feel like the biggest asshole on the planet.”