My patience wears thin. “So, you stomped over and ordered me to follow you, and now you’ve got nothing to say?”
I see her jaw flex. “I need a second, okay?”
Scoffing, I sit on the end of my bed and cross my legs.
“Fine and nice,” she finally says. “That’s how you described our night together.”
Oh Jesus, is she serious?
“River, for God’s sake. It was one night. We had a good time. What is your problem?”
“You are!” she bellows.
Whoa.
“Okay, okay. River, what is thisreallyabout? I can’t believe your ego is this fragile. You’ve probably bedded more women than I’ve had hot dinners. We were a fleeting moment in the grand scheme of things.”
She paces the short distance of my cabin. “Was it bad? Was I bad? Didn’t you enjoy it?”
I’m momentarily gobsmacked. The River in front of me now is the same one I saw the other night. Vulnerable.
“River. Look at me.”
The force of my voice gets her to stop pacing. Everything about her is immaculate. She doesn’t have a hair out of place. But her eyes—there’s panic there. Desperation.
“We had a great night. Both of us had fun. When I said it was nice and fine, I didn’t mean to take anything awayfrom our time together. Trust me when I say it’s me, and not you.”
She rolls her eyes and huffs.
“Listen to me, River. I love sex. But for me, the best sex is when I’m with someone who I’m really into on an emotional level. It’s just how I work. But finding those connections is hard. Dating sucks, so sure, on occasion I grab a quick hookup, like you do. I get off and have fun.”
“But we did things. Like really naughty stuff. I just…I gave you my best moves and you only found itnice?”
“River, why is this bothering you so much?”
“Because it’s my thing, Cleo. I’m shit at most things in life, but not that. Because…” She stops, struggles. “Because I’ve never cared before. If someone said I was ‘fine,’ I’d shrug and move on. But with you, it matters. And I don’t know why, and it’s driving me insane.”
Wow, does she really weigh her worth by the women she can please?
“River, it’s not about you. I promise.”
She puts both hands on her hips. “So, what I’m hearing is that if we dated, got to know each other and then had sex, it would be better. I’d be better?”
I don’t even know how to respond to that.
“Is that the top and bottom of it?” she asks.
“River, you don’t date. That’s what you said, right?”
“Not usually,” she mumbles.
“So this wouldn’t be real. It would be a way to make yourself feel better. How does that sound like a good idea?”
She slaps her palms on her thighs. “I can’t get you out of my head! Not your words, not your face. I couldn’t have sex with the woman at the bar—”
“You managed pretty well in the showers last night,” I shoot back.
There’s the jaw flex again. “I felt gross after. I crossed a line with a crew member, and it didn’t even help because all I could see was you. Even when I was with her, I was thinking about you.”
