“Me too,” Marco added.
“I know… and thanks. Right now, I just want to relax on this beauty with an ice-cold beer.” Wanting to change the subject, I asked, “Where are the divas?”
“Lydia and Rebecca went into town to shop,” Marco said. “And Ricky is somewhere around here.”
Sam chuckled at Marco’s dig. Not only was Ricky Rebecca and Marco’s business partner, but he was my sister’s gay best friend. The man was also a walking Ken doll who lacked a filter, was cocky as hell, and irked the shit out of me.
The last time I saw Ricky had been at Thanksgiving. Rebecca had invited him to our parents’ home since his mother had been traveling. Having no other family, my bighearted sister had felt bad for him. I hadn’t known him all that well, but the way he’d probed when learning Riana wasn’t coming to dinner, along with a few snide comments throughout the night, had me wanting to tell him to fuck off.
Rebecca had later laughed her ass off, explaining that it was Ricky’s way of showing interest and he’d meant nothing by it. I was as easygoing as they came but had found no humor in his little performance.
What had freaked me out a bit was how I’d thought of that ass all night long after he’d left. And it wasn’t things he’d said that had run through my mind; it was his expressions, the way he raked a hand through his thick hair, the lift of his lips when he smirked… which was often.
“Speak of the devil,” Marco said while glancing over my shoulder.
“Yeah, yeah. I heard every word you said.” Ricky threw him a bored expression. “We all know you’re the biggest diva of us all.” He then focused on me with that damn wry smirk. “Hello, Cooper.” Hearing my full name annoyed me. No one called me that except for my parents.
“Hey,” I said with a benign smile.
“Where’s your girlfriend?” His question seemed innocent enough, but the sarcastic lift of one brow was a contradiction.
“We broke up.”
“Oh no.” While his eyes narrowed, a dramatic lilt to his deep tone of voice revealed sarcasm. “I’m so sorry to hear that.”
Right… sure you are. “Yeah, well, such is life,” I responded just as disingenuously.
“You’re quite the catch, Cooper. I’m sure you’ll have another doe-eyed beauty on your arm in no time.” His gaze held mine for a beat before he winked. He took arrogance to a new level, and it baffled me that he and my sister were best friends.
Ignoring him, I clapped a firm hand on Sam’s shoulder. “I’m going to go change and chill out in a deck chair. You can find me there.”
Sam nodded. “I’ll join you in a bit.”
“You’re in cabin four,” Marco interjected. “If you need anything, just dial seven on any phone.”
“Perfect, thank you.”
As I walked away, Ricky called out, “Welcome aboard, Cooper.”
Without turning around, I lifted a hand and responded, “Thanks.”
It would be hard to leave the cool tranquility of my cabin. The smooth sheets and ridiculously fluffy pillows called to me. But I had no doubt if I lay down for even a few minutes, I’d be out for the count.
Ignoring the temptation, I bargained with myself to have a drink with Sam on deck and retire early once dinner was over. Knowing he planned an intimate evening with Lydia before the wedding festivities began, and that Rebecca and Marco were staying at their place in Fort Lauderdale, meant I had the night to myself. And based on the typed, laminated schedule I found on the dresser, there would be little time to myself during this trip.
I quickly changed into a casual pair of shorts and a clean T-shirt, having sweated through my original one. Afterward, I unpacked a few of my things, mainly the linen slacks and white button-down shirt I’d been instructed to wear for the wedding and headed out.
Minutes later, I was on the upper deck sitting on a comfortable lounge facing the open sea. Not seeing any of the ship’s staff, I relaxed and closed my eyes while waiting on Sam. Except for the seagulls squawking and the waves slapping against the hull, it was surprisingly silent… or maybe it was because I’d been so lost in thought.
I looked forward to this trip with my family. I was excited to see my youngest brother finally taking Lydia as his wife. Yet I dreaded having to smile and pretend I didn’t feel like a complete failure. It wasn’t the first time I’d felt as such. Whenever a relationship ended, no matter how short or long, I couldn’t shake that stigma.
What was wrong with me?
And it had to be me, because the women I’d met and dated over the years were always spectacular. It was true… Riana couldn’t have been more perfect for me—a lover of literature, an avid philanthropist, sexy both inside and out.
I had tried so hard to fall in love with her. My thoughts drifted to the first time we had sex. It’d been after a romantic evening of dinner and dancing. We’d ended up at her condo and quickly engaged in our usual passionate foreplay.
Until then, whenever we reached that heated precipice, she would shyly stop things from progressing. I respected her wanting to wait, understanding getting to know me first was important to her.
But that night, without voicing it, we both knew our time had come.
The stage had been perfectly set for a flame to spark between us. The sex was sweet and slow. Afterward, we spent the night wrapped in each other’s arms. She made me breakfast the next morning before we had shower sex.
That night, I could see the flip of a switch in the way she began to look at me. The transformation had been subtle, but just one month in and I knew Riana had begun to develop feelings.
Knowing that warmed me inside, but it also created a sick feeling of guilt, because I hadn’t felt the same yet. I argued with myself it was still so new, I liked being with her, and those feelings would eventually come.
With each month that passed, I continued to enjoy our time together. I went through the motions of romancing her, hoping upon hope one of those days I’d wake up in love. For months, I yearned for the feelings I knew she had already experienced toward me… but they never came.
And with every week that went by, I’d felt more like a shit.
“Cooper.”
I jumped when a deep voice sliced through my pity session. “Can I get you a… cocktail?” There Ricky stood beside my chair, looking like a suntan lotion ad in his white polo shirt and khaki shorts. “Bar is now open for you, and I’m at your disposal.”
“Thanks. I’ll take a beer.”
He dipped at the waist and grinned. “Coming right up.”
A minute later, he was back with an ice-cold bottle of imported beer. “Modelo, right?”
“Yeah… thank you,” I said, annoyed that he remembered what I preferred. When he placed it on the side table, along with a bowl of mixed nuts, I returned my attention to the royal-blue horizon.
Without invite, he sat sideways on the lounge beside mine as the small round tray between his hands twirled in my peripheral. “Can I ask you a question?” I wanted to say no but instead shrugged. “Are you afraid of what people will think?”
My head twisted his way. “Think about what?”