the worst,” I groaned.
“So the best sex of your life is the worst? Listen to me. You are on a working vacation in literal Caribbean paradise. An incredibly gorgeous and sexy Navy SEAL romanced you and then fucked you senseless. You had about one million screaming orgasms. Even if he ghosted you, which we aren’t even sure about yet, you still have absolutely no right to complain. This experience you’re having is so much better than anything that has ever happened in my life, that there is no way I can listen to it. I’m not even joking,” she huffed.
I sat back on the bed, stunned. Tears stung my eyes, even though I hadn’t shed a tear over being basically stood up by Billy.
“I’m sorry,” I breathed. “Maggie, I’m sorry. I didn’t know you felt that way, and I won’t…” I won’t what? Call her anymore? Tell her how I’m feeling? I felt like I’d taken a sledgehammer to the stomach. My best friend was sick of my shit.
“No, you’re fine,” she grumbled. “I guess I got a little heated over that. I’m just—jealous. I’ve never met anyone who made me feel the way you feel about Billy. I go on dating apps, and I have drinks with men who are losing their hair or talking about their ex and how crazy she was. I mean, I TRY really hard to find someone. And you’re all happy with your career and don’t even care, and this dreamboat sex god just falls in your damn lap while you’re staying at a fancy resort and getting paid to do it. Okay? I’m bitter. I haven’t met anyone I really liked in about three years. And it was sucky but kind of okay as long as we were both single.”
“Trust me, babe, I’m single,” I said ruefully. “I just got laid really good, and it messed up my head for a minute. It’s fine. We’ll grow old together, single, with our cats and our crime shows and our password protected files of fireman porn.”
“I thought you liked military men,” she teased.
“Since I’m glad you’re not mad at me anymore, I’ll let that one slide.”
“I get to give you shit about this guy forever. You’ve had stars in your eyes—and in your pants, since the minute you saw him. I’ve been having dreams about him and I’ve never even seen him! And I bet you didn’t even take pity on me by taking one naked pic of him when you had the chance!”
“Of course I didn’t. I would never do that.”
“Yeah, I know. That’s why I’m the fun one, and you’re the boring one,” she quipped.
“Seriously, though, we’re okay, right?”
“Yeah, we’re okay,” she said.
“Good. I love you. I have to go try to write, and then I’m going to take myself for a walk in the ocean breeze and try to calm down, gain some perspective.”
“Is there a margarita truck down there or something?”
“It’s like you’re psychic,” I deadpanned. “Yes, there is a margarita truck, and I most definitely plan to visit it.”
“Have fun. Don’t drink and jog.”
“I don’t jog anyway, so it’s safe,” I said.
“I wasn’t afraid you’d cause a wreck. I was afraid you’d spill your drink.”
I laughed as Maggie hung up.
After about another hour of being distracted and unproductive, I decided to take the night off as planned. I didn’t need a man to take me to dinner. I could take my damn self out. I dressed up in the deep berry-colored sundress I’d planned to wear. I did my makeup and hair, hooked tiny gold hoops in my ears and wore cute sandals, a wrist full of cheap, jangly bracelets that I think were made of brass. I felt better, dressing up being good for my morale after rejection. I tried a place the concierge recommended, a Thai restaurant that was uptown away from the tourist areas. All it took was a whiff of lemongrass to set my mind at ease.
I took a seat at the bar, leaving the few remaining tables for groups to fill. Once my order was in, I started making notes in my phone about the restaurant—atmosphere, crowd, and staff. My food came swiftly—a surprise in such a crowded venue. The place did a brisk business, and the waitstaff was efficient. Not friendly and homey like O’Shea’s Pub, but I scolded myself for the comparison. My pad see ew was good, but not excellent, and I had to ask twice for refill of my water because