“What? Don’t be stupid.” John shook his head and huffed.
“You are completely and utterly jealous.” Harry barked a laugh. “And the funny thing is, you’re not jealous because you wantmeback. You’re jealous because you think Evan’s hot and you can’t have him. Don’t think I haven’t seen you ogling him by the pool, or, for that matter, the way you can’t take your eyes off Dennis either. Quite frankly, I’m surprised you haven’t made a move on one of them.”
“That’s ridiculous. I’m here for one thing only, and that’s the competition. You can see whoever you want, just don’t fuck up my chances. Anyway, I’ve got a headache. I’m going to lie down before dinner.”
“Fine. I’m going to take a walk, and I’ll be back to the cabin later to shower.”
Harry watched John storm off. John had no right to be pissed at him, not with the way he was obviously checking out the other guys.Probably trying to see if he can make a conquest—someone to replace me.What did surprise him was John’s blatant behaviour when he insisted he was determined to win the show. Harry supposed John just couldn’t help himself, always on the hunt for something better, someone who could bolster his ego. He shook his head and headed up on deck to get some fresh air.
14
Dinner wasa fun affair in the main restaurant. Their competition group, all ten of them, had gathered for a meal, and it was interesting getting to know more about each other. That being said, Evan was also over the moon when they all dispersed after dinner, each of the couples wandering off to do their own thing. When Amber had suggested they adjourn to the martini bar for after-dinner cocktails and had invited Harry and John along, he’d thought it was an excellent idea—any more time spent in Harry’s company was a bonus in Evan’s book. He was even happier when John excused himself because he felt unwell. Evan didn’t have much sympathy, given the amount of food the guy had eaten from the buffet, and although he didn’t wish John harm, he’d sighed with relief as he’d watched his retreating back. And when Amber had then purported to have a headache and a sudden need to have a lie down, leaving Evan alone with Harry, he’d been ecstatic. The night couldn’t get much better, and Harry agreed with him, if his broad grin was anything to go by.
“How about we give the martini bar a miss?” Evan proposed. “That is, unless you really want to drink martinis.”
“How about grabbing a coffee and taking a walk around the ship instead?”
He smiled. “Sounds perfect.”
A couple of takeaway coffees later, they were strolling through the ship’s shopping arcade, stopping every now and then to admire the various window displays, but the cosmetics, fashion, and jewellery didn’t hold much interest. They ended up in the art gallery and browsed the selection of canvases on show. From portraits to landscapes, there was a bit of everything, but nothing Evan would ever put up in his own home.
“What do you think?” he asked Harry, keen to hear his thoughts.
“I’ve always found art fascinating. It’s so subjective. Take this one for example.” He indicated a large colourful painting. “It makes wonderful use of colour, but I’ve never got the whole concept of abstract art.”
“To be honest, it looks like finger painting by a kindergartener to me,” Evan said.
Harry chuckled. “It probably is.”
“But truth be told,” Evan added as they wandered past more paintings, “I admire people who follow their passion, no matter what that passion is, and even more so when they do whatever is necessary to make a go of it.”
“The romanticism of the struggling artist?” Harry smiled.
“I guess so. At least you’d die knowing that you’d given it everything, not having regrets about a dream you didn’t pursue.”
“Even if it meant living from sale to sale, crossing your fingers you sold a painting that week so you could pay the rent or put food on the table?”
Evan shrugged. “Maybe that’s a little extreme in the long term, but sure, at least for a short while. You only live once, right?”
“Right.” Harry’s grin was broad. “Shall we head up?”
They finished their coffees on the way and tossed the empty cups into a bin before stepping out onto the top deck.
The breeze was light, the temperature perfect, but there were very few people about, most passengers perhaps opting to take advantage of the evening’s entertainment offerings—the show, the movie, the casino, the nightclub. Not that Evan cared; the privacy was exactly what he wanted. It felt like he and Harry were in their own world as they followed the railing until they came upon a secluded area of the deck. The only thing keeping them company was a tall potted tree. Gentle strains of music floated on the breeze, the tune coming from the pool bar, half a ship’s length away. They leaned against the railing, facing the dark ocean, the tang of salt on the fresh air.
“So, what did you think of the dance class?” Harry eventually asked, breaking the silence.
“Oh, God. It was torture,” Evan said. “I love dancing, but out on a dance floor hidden among a large group where no one can see me, and certainly not anything requiring a coordinated approach to movement. And poor Amber! I’m probably better than her, and that’s saying a lot.”
Harry chuckled. “I did see you guys were struggling a bit.”
“And I saw that you most definitely weren’t.”
Harry turned away from the railing and met his gaze. “Were you checking me out, Evan?”
“Yep.” Evan grinned. “And let me say, I was very impressed with what I saw.”
“You were, were you?” Harry waggled his brows.
