dropped them into my outstretched hand before passing me a bottle of water. As I obeyed, he watched me, crossing his arms with a smirk. “You’re going to feel like shit, but you’ll feel worse if you disappoint Sam. So take a cold shower…” He paused to focus on the hard-on tenting the sheet draped over my crotch. “And drag your sorry ass out on deck dressed and ready to perform your best man duties.” Not bothering to allow me a response, he walked out of my cabin, ensuring he slammed the door shut a bit more forcibly than necessary.
“Prick,” I groaned, holding my head in another attempt to stop the pounding. Pieces of the night before began coming together… the drinking, he and I out on deck, a kiss, the way he traced my arousal. “Motherfucker.” I was stuck on that damn boat for three more days, and I truly had no idea how I’d be able to escape him.
It was all so ridiculous. It wasn’t like I could hide in my cabin for the rest of the week. At some point I needed to address what was happening. This went beyond another failed relationship. This went beyond feeling lonely. No man had ever gotten under my skin as Ricky had managed to, and I could pretend to despise him all I wanted, but I couldn’t will my body not to react.
I wanted to blame him for my uncertainty. It wasn’t his fault. He may have opened a door that held back so many denials, but he hadn’t created them. That was all me. Yet, as I tried to pick apart what it was that caused my muddled logic, I couldn’t come up with an answer.
I liked women. I appreciated the female form, the curve of a hip, the swell of a breast. I’d been aroused without issue whenever intimate with a woman.
Why did my body thrum in an unfamiliar way every damn time he so much as looked at me?
I had no answer… and because of that I’d need to avoid him. Until I figured it out, I would need to force myself to push through the confusing thoughts that I couldn’t seem to escape since stepping foot on that damn ship.
With great difficulty, I dragged my “sorry ass” into the cold shower he suggested that I take and managed to get ready without dying.
Just as I ran my fingers through my still-damp hair, a knock sounded. On an audible sigh, I opened the door to Rebecca. Seeing me dressed and ready, the worried expression smoothed out. “How bad are you hungover?”
“Not bad,” I lied, yet again. Digging deep past my misery, I took a moment to appreciate my sister’s radiance in a flowy pale-pink cocktail dress. “You look gorgeous, Ms. Matron of Honor.”
“And you look very handsome, Mr. Best Man. Ready to play our parts?”
“More than ready.” I then offered my arm with a smile. “Showtime.”
Chapter Seven
Ricky
If I bit the inside of my cheek to stop from laughing any harder, I’d draw blood. It was hilarious how he wouldn’t so much as look at me, and what was even funnier was how I’d become the villain in his reality.
Okay, maybe I deserved his ire a tiny bit, but someone had to be honest with the guy. In all fairness, I wasn’t sure anyone else even knew he was living a lie. There was no way Rebecca did. She would’ve brought it up at some point. And up until he boarded this ship, it had been only a theory of mine. Now… well, now I didn’t have a doubt in my mind.
Cooper Stanton may like women… but he also liked men.
He played the hetero part extremely well. In fact, it seemed he was always performing in some way or another. I watched amused as he managed to act the role of best man during the ceremony, as during the reception he made yet another mushy toast filled with romance innuendos and humorous backstories. And even as he danced with his sister Janis, that constant smile remained plastered on his face like a mask.
On the outside, Cooper appeared the laid-back, groovy English lit professor he wanted everyone to believe he was. It was when he thought no one paid attention when a line would crease his forehead and his shoulders would stiffen.
Speaking of stiff… I hadn’t expected to see him naked as the day he was born on the floor of his cabin while stiff as a rod. And