“Nobody everbelievedKat,” I say. “Guys just played along, hoping to get laid by the hot girl with the fake Australian accent.”
Colby laughs. “Probably.”
“So you’re not thinking T-Rod’s a closet psycho for wearing the uniform?” I ask.
“Naw,” Colby says. “She said it was a one-time thing, right? Kat must have done that kind of thing fifty times and she’s moderately sane. Sounds to me like T-Rod’s got a party-girl-friend like Kat, that’s all. Plus, T-Rod’s worked for Josh for years, right? And he obviously trusts her with his life.”
“Good point.”
“I mean, I only saw the woman for fifteen minutes in the lobby, so I could be wrong, but my initial impression of her was thumbs-up. If I get a closet-psycho vibe from her as the week goes on, I’ll let you know, but I doubt it.”
“Thanks, man.”
“And, in the meantime, just do yourself a favor and take things slow,” Colby cautions. “You got lucky as hell you didn’t need to tell T-Rod the whole crazy story of your Search for Samantha. Now you’ve got the luxury of taking your time.” He pauses, thinking for a beat. “I do recommend you tell her about Olivia being batshit crazy, though—and definitely clear up what really happened in the restaurant with that other woman. You certainly don’t want Theresa thinking you’re a complete douche. Oh, and one more thing: you’d better make damned sure she’s not off-limits as far as Josh is concerned before you dabble with this one. She might very well be ‘honorary little sister’ territory for Josh, and you certainly don’t wanna... What?”
I cringe, my stomach clenching.
“Why do you look like that, Ryan?” Colby asks.
“Like what?” I ask.
“Guilty as hell.”
“Because... I already fucked her.”
“What?” He pauses, his mouth hanging open. “When? Ryan, we’ve been here for an hour and a half!”
“I fucked her ten minutes after we got here. I lied, sorry: I wasn’t taking a nap when our dear mother texted about the beach—I was boning the fuck outta T-Rod.”
Colby bursts out laughing again, and he keeps right on laughing for what seems like several minutes. Finally, when his laughter has subsided enough for him to speak coherently, he sighs happily, rubs his eyes, and says, “Captain Morgan, you’re my fucking hero.”
30
Ryan
“How the hell did you pull that off?” Colby asks, sitting up in his lounge chair.
“It was very easy to do, strangely enough,” I say. “When T-Rod was done giving her speech about the itinerary, I walked over to her and whispered in her ear, ‘My room in ten.’”
“And...?”
“And she showed up ten minutes later and I fucked her.”
We both laugh.
I look out at the ocean for a beat, shaking my head. “I wasn’t even trying to be James Bond. I was pissed about the uniform thing and wanted to read her the riot act in private. So, she knocked on my door, obviously pissed as hell about the whole Olivia thing, and I opened my door and said something really dicky to her, and she took a swing at me. Sort of. Clearly, the girl’s never thrown a punch in her life. And then weimmediatelystarted fucking the hell out of each other.” I snap my fingers. “Just like that. Craziest damned thing that’s ever happened to me.” A wide smile spreads across my face. “And the best.”
Colby raises an eyebrow. “So did the reality of harpooning your Argentinian whale live up to the fantasy?”
“Smashed it to smithereens, brother.”
Colby smiles. “Awesome.”
“Best I ever had,” I say. “For her, too. She didn’t even try to deny it. Damn, Bee, I thought I knew what good sex was—I’ve had some good sex, as you know—but I had no idea it could bethatfucking amazing.”
“Holy shit, Ry. Enough. I haven’t gotten laid in months. I’m happy for you and all, but don’t wave a juicy hamburger in front of a starving man.”
“Sorry, I can’t help it: I’ve had crazier; I’ve had kinkier; but I’ve never, ever had better. Not even close.”
