Caribbean Cruising

by Rachel Hawthorne

  “Is parasailing on your list?”

  I shook my head. “No.”

  “Do you only do things that are on your list?”

  “I like for things to be planned.”

  “Maybe you could find a pencil, and add parasailing to your list. I’ve reserved a boat for tomorrow.”

  I’d never parasailed, but it sounded like fun. Still…

  “Why are you asking me?”

  “Because I don’t want to go by myself.”

  So it wasn’t because he was interested in me, or because he felt like he needed to watch over me to make Walter happy. At the same time it hadn’t occurred to me that Ryan would spend time alone if he wasn’t looking after me. It should have, but it hadn’t. I felt guilty about that, and the fact that he’d overheard me talking to Julie.

  “All right. I’ll go with you.”

  “Great. I’ll give you the details before we leave the ship in the morning.” He jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “I’m going back in to party.”

  “I’ll see you tomorrow then,” I said.

  He disappeared inside, and I headed up to the Starlight deck.

  People were strolling along. I could hear others splashing and shrieking in the pools on another deck.

  I was supposed to be having the time of my life. Instead everyone around me was having the time of their life. Brooke was off with David. Ryan was back inside Cruisin’ dancing with someone else—or at least I figured he was.

  I walked to the railing, and gazed out on the water. It was dark with only the lights from the ship shining over it. The sky was vast and filled with stars.

  And I was totally confused.

  Ryan was nice, but he didn’t act as though he was interested in me. He’d come to my rescue earlier, and helped me make a graceful exit from the club. But then he’d gone back inside to party, which I was glad he’d done, because I wanted to find someone to have a special night with. I really didn’t think it would be a good idea to have a fling with Walter’s godson, no matter how nice or good-looking he might be.

  We could do the parasailing thing tomorrow. We could keep it casual. Spend a little time together because Walter expected it.

  But Ryan knew I had a goal. I was embarrassed that he did know—but he seemed all right with it. And he understood why our hanging around together all the time wouldn’t work.

  Besides, he probably had a list of things he wanted to do, and I was certain that they didn’t include me.

  With a sigh I sat on a lounger, and hoped tomorrow would go better than today.

  CHAPTER 11

  I’d spent my life sleeping in bed alone in a bedroom that I shared with no one. So I couldn’t figure out why I felt so lonely as I put on my night boxers and tank, and slipped into bed.

  I tried not to think that Ryan might have a girl in his cabin that very minute. And I tried not to think about Brooke hooking up with David. And I tried not to think about that stupid flirtation quiz I had obviously flunked.

  It was so different flirting with absolute strangers. They didn’t know when you were kidding and when you were serious. They didn’t know how to read your body language.

  And I certainly didn’t know how to read theirs.

  Going on this cruise without my best friend in tow sucked big time. I mean, Brooke was fun, but we didn’t have a history. She didn’t know about the time when Julie and I decided to use hot wax to shape our eyebrows, and ended up with no eyebrows—just swollen, red, hairless areas above our eyes. Or the time we decided to pierce each other’s ears with an upholstery needle because our parents wouldn’t give us permission to get them pierced. Totally bad idea.

  With a sigh I rolled over onto my side.

  The phone rang and brought me out of my brooding. I snatched it up. “Hello?”

  “Hey, it’s Brooke. You weren’t at the club when David and I got back.”

  “Michael said you weren’t coming back.”

  “How would he know? Is he my secretary?”

  I shrugged, realized she couldn’t see my movements, and said, “I just felt—”

  “Abandoned? You probably felt abandoned. I would have. Geez, I’m sorry, Lindsay. Really. David and I just went out to be alone for a while. You know?”

  “Yeah, I know,” I said, although I really didn’t. The nice thing about best friends is that no matter what they say, you always know exactly what they mean. With Brooke I didn’t really know her well enough to understand what she meant. What she was trying to say or not say.

  “So can I come by? I know it’s late, but we could talk. You know, have a slumber party,” Brooke said.

  “I guess so. Sure.”

  I gave her my cabin number and the location of my cabin before I hung up. I turned on the bedside lamp, clambered out of bed, and slipped on a pair of jersey shorts. I figured my tank was okay as it was.

  It was funny how I could be feeling lonely one minute and then excited with apprehension the next.

  A knock sounded on my door. Man, that was fast. Her cabin must not be that far away from mine. That could certainly prove beneficial. It would make meeting up with each other a snap. I crossed the cabin, jerked open the door, and froze.

  Ryan. Not Brooke.

  I fought the urge to cross my arms over my chest. Surely he wouldn’t realize I was in PJ’s—

  “You were already in bed?” he asked.

  I leaned against the doorjamb trying to appear unflustered by his question.

  “I was, but now I’m not.” I am too clever to live.

  “I was wondering if you wanted to catch a midnight movie.”

  “Thanks, but Brooke is on her way over.” Then I scowled because I’d felt the need to explain myself. My friends, my life, the things I had planned were none of his business.

  “She’s trouble.”

  “She’s fun. Totally cool. You just haven’t given her a chance. You’re welcome to join us,” I offered.

  He laughed. “Thanks, but no thanks.”

  I was feeling badly. He was alone tonight because I had things on my list that I needed to accomplish without him around. But right now I wasn’t flirting with any guys. I wasn’t going to make a move on anyone. I was feeling magnanimous. “Why don’t you join us? We’ll probably just sit out on the deck and talk.”

  “About toe rings and cramps and how guys just don’t get it. I’ll pass.”

  “Well, well, looks like I was interrupting more than sleep,” Brooke said as she hurried toward us. “So are you guys an item or not?”

  “Not,” we both said at the same time.

  Ryan grinned. “Tomorrow.”

  And with that he disappeared into his cabin.

  “That guy is so hot. How can you not be an item?” Brooke asked. “And you’re right next door to each other? How convenient is that?”

  “It’s actually turning out to be a little inconvenient. Come on in.”

  She gasped as she walked into the cabin. “Wow! You have a terrace! My cabin is like a bed and a bathroom. No view whatsoever. This is totally cool.”

  She made herself at home, raided the minibar, fixed us both a drink, and headed for the balcony.

  We sat out there, with the ocean breeze blowing around us, the lights from the ship glistening off the dark water. It was the perfect place to sit with a guy. The romantic possibilities were endless.

  “So explain Ryan.”

  I glanced over at Brooke. “What?”

  She shifted in her chair, brought her feet up beneath her, and started ticking off on her fingers. “He approaches you at the pool. I see you talking to him in the gym.”

  “You saw that?”

  “Yeah. I did. Then he shows up at the club and hardly takes his eyes off you.”

  “No way!”

  “Yes way!”

  “He was dancing with someone else.”

  “And watching you the whole time.”

  Had he been watching me?

  “He’s Walter’s gods
on. Walter invited Ryan on the cruise because he thought Ryan would enjoy it, and he thought I needed a buddy. And then I find out that Walter thought I needed a baby-sitter as well. But I can make my own friends and take care of myself.” I held my hands out to her. “You’re a perfect example.”

  She sipped her drink. “I still think there’s more to it. You’ve slept with him, right?”

  A little voice told me to confess the truth, but the part of me that wanted to be cool simply said, “Yeah, we slept together. But it didn’t work out.”

  “Like me and David.”

  Probably not, I thought. She and David probably didn’t actually sleep.

  She took a sip before saying, “David was okay, but he kisses like a lizard.”

  “A lizard?”

  “Yeah, you know, he just stuck his tongue in and out of my mouth. Kinda makes me gag when that’s a guy’s only move.” She shifted in the chair. “So what’s the worst kind of kiss you’ve ever gotten?”

  I gave it some serious thought. Then I remembered. “I went on a date with this guy who groaned the entire time we kissed.” I laughed. “At first I thought I was hurting him.”

  “A drama king,” she said. “I dated a guy like that once. While he was moaning, he’d bend me over backward—like in the old movies.”

  “Sounds romantic,” I offered.

  “Not when he dropped me.”

  A tiny laugh escaped before I could stop it.

  “I’m sorry. I know it wasn’t funny.”

  “What about vacuum kissers?” she asked. “You know those guys who suck so hard you have hickeys all over your neck? I dated one guy who was so bad that I had to wear turtlenecks in summer.”

  “You’ve dated a lot of guys,” I said, unable to hide my astonishment.

  “Nothing serious with any of them. Except for my last boyfriend.”

  “What kind of kisser was he?” I asked.

  “Incredible.”

  “So why didn’t it work out?” I asked.

  “He liked to spread his kisses around. Kinda like a bee in the spring. You know, can’t stick with one flower, just has to spread the pollen around.”

  “So he was a pollen kisser?”

  She laughed. “That’s a much nicer name than what I called the jerk. But, yeah, he liked to do a lot of pollinating. I hate that I miss him.”

  “Concentrate on what a jerk he was,” I suggested. I’d never had a serious crush, and I wasn’t exactly sure how a girl went about getting over one when things didn’t work out. That might explain why I wanted to remain casual with a guy who I wanted to get physical with. No emotional attachment, less hurt.

  “I’d probably do better not to think about him at all. David reminded me too much of him.”

  “I thought David was a lizard kisser.”

  “He was, but he looked a lot like Chris.”

  So that was the pollen kisser’s name.

  “That’s probably why I changed my mind about taking him back to my cabin,” she said. She glanced over at me. “I mean, I invited him and all, but then I changed my mind, you know. I hate teasing guys, and not following through on the tease.”

  “Did you explain that you’d just broken up—”

  “No way! I told him I was getting seasick.”

  She sank down in the chair, and lifted her feet to the railing. I did the same.

  “I really miss my friends,” I said quietly as I gazed out at the vast blackness before us.

  “Yeah, me too.”

  “This cruise is supposed to be my best vacation ever,” I said. “But it just hasn’t started out that way.”

  “What would make it the best?” she asked.

  “I don’t know exactly. It’s kinda like I’ll know it when I experience it.”

  We sat in silence for several minutes, each lost in our own thoughts.

  “You know the very real possibility exists that we could end up on a desert island out here,” Brooke suddenly said.

  I didn’t think so. As a matter of fact I figured she was being a little melodramatic, but I thought she was probably going somewhere with her comment.

  “Who would you want to be with you: Heath Ledger or Ben Affleck?” she asked.

  “Heath Ledger.”

  “I think I’d go with Ben.” She sighed. “Or the guy next door.”

  I sat upright. “Ryan?”

  “Yeah. As I may have mentioned, he’s really hot.”

  She stood and leaned against the railing of the balcony. “So should we hit the shops as soon as we dock tomorrow?”

  “Sure. But I’m going parasailing in the afternoon.”

  “Cool! I’ve always wanted to parasail. I’ll invite the guys we met tonight to go with us.”

  I wasn’t really sure how Ryan was going to feel about all the invitations being issued. But how could I possibly tell Brooke, my new best friend, that she wasn’t welcome?

  “I don’t know about inviting the guys we met tonight,” I finally managed.

  “Come on. It’ll be fun.”

  “Well, the thing is, I’m going with Ryan.”

  “That makes it even better.”

  Somehow I didn’t think so.

  CHAPTER 12

  Virgin Islands

  Day Three

  We docked at Charlotte Amalie in the Virgin Islands. From the deck outside my cabin, the capital of St. Thomas looked like a peaceful village with its red-roofed buildings sweeping out into the deep green hills. Ships of all sizes—sloops, yachts, sailboats—rocked gently in the waters within the harbor.

  Once Brooke and I left the ship I realized that the calm appearance of the town was deceiving. It was bustling with activity.

  “Hey! Jimmy Buffet,” Brooke announced as we pass by a shop where the music poured out into the street.

  She started walking with little bouncing steps, like she was dancing to the rhythm. I found myself joining her, stepping to the beat, snapping my fingers.

  “Is this not totally great?” she asked.

  “Totally.”

  We were headed for the shopping district. Most of the shops were converted warehouses where pirates had reportedly hoarded their stolen goods hundreds of years ago. Everything was quaint, and unlike anything I’d ever seen before.

  Our first stop was the Tropicana Perfume Shoppe. The pink-and-white eighteenth-century building was located in the heart of the shopping district. The fragrances were to die for, and sported the names of so many prestigious companies—brand-name labels that I seldom shopped for at home because they were a little out of my price range.

  “How about this one?” Brooke asked, holding her wrist up to my nose.

  It was a sweet flowery scent. It seemed to go with the Tropics, but I wasn’t certain that it went with Brooke. Still, she knew herself better than I did, but I simply didn’t see her as sweet.

  “I like it,” I assured her.

  She wrinkled her nose. “I don’t know.”

  She was suddenly a mess of indecision. I didn’t blame her; so was I. Far too many scents to choose from. I had a feeling most of the morning was going to be a string of hard decisions.

  Brooke dabbed another fragrance on her elbow and sniffed. “I like this one. Do you think Cameron would like it?”

  I stared at her. “Cameron?”

  She bobbed her head. “Yeah.”

  “But you and David—”

  “Oh, he’s history,” she said with a flutter of her hand.

  “Well, I know, but I think Cameron is his friend, and it just seems like it would be a little awkward.”

  She shook her head and raised her hand. “The rules are completely different on a cruise. Everyone is a player, and everyone is okay with that.”

  I didn’t think I could be totally okay with that. While I was okay kissing different guys, I only wanted to get intimate with one. Part of the reason why I wasn’t willing to seriously consider Ryan as one of those guys because I didn’t believe long-term relationships could
take root on a cruise, and our paths would pass from time to time once the trip was over. And I would be uncomfortable.

  As Brooke had said, things were completely different on a cruise. Sometimes I wasn’t even sure who I was.

  “Did you invite David to go parasailing with us?” I asked.

  “Sure. But he’ll be totally cool. He had his chance and blew it. So I’m moving on. He’ll move on.” She gave me a hard look. “You have to move on, Lindsay. Can’t wallow around feeling sorry for yourself just because a guy isn’t interested.”

  “Was David not interested?” I asked.

  “Who knows? I didn’t give him a chance to say one way or the other. He just wasn’t right for me.”

  She sniffed the latest perfume spritz and sighed. “Chris would like this one.”

  Chris, her ex. The guy she’d broken up with but still missed.

  “Is there a chance you’ll get back together with him?”

  She scoffed. “No way, Lindsay.”

  Then why was she worried about whether or not he’d like the perfume? She was trying to forget him with a bunch of different guys, but she’d mentioned him a couple of times already. What was up with that?

  “I’m getting this one,” she suddenly announced. “How about you?”

  I went back to sampling. I wanted something soft, alluring, intriguing. Something I would wear on my special night when I finally met my special man.

  Brooke and I were a hodgepodge of scents when we left, each carrying our first purchase. Givenchy adorned her bag; Yves Saint Laurent decorated mine.

  Our next stop was a jewelry store. St. Thomas is known for its inexpensive diamonds and emeralds. In fact it’s known for its inexpensive everything.

  “Get a load of this one!” Brooke squealed, pointing to a necklace. It was fabulous—diamonds and emeralds that just sorta swooped down the neck.

  “Where would you wear it?” I asked.

  “Who cares? It’s a must-have. Absolutely.”

  I wanted something a bit more practical. I bought an emerald teardrop necklace and matching dangling earrings. Then I spotted the toe rings.

  I couldn’t resist. I remembered Ryan mentioning that girls talked about toe rings. As if he would know what girls talked about. Just for grins, I bought him one. It probably wouldn’t fit him, but that wasn’t the point. I just wanted him to know that I was thinking about him.