“I think I’m feeling like enough of a bad bitch for now,” Alex said. He flicked through his phone, and “Cry Me a River” came on. “High School Hitsplaylist,” he explained.
“Sounds like a middle school hits playlist to me,” I said.
Alex narrowed his eyes. “Are you suggesting I’m old, Florida Girl who isn’t even from Florida?”
“Maybe.” I shrugged. “Older than me, anyway.”
Alex shook his head. He sang along to the song but changed the words to be about his injured hand, Nina’s wrath, my youth and newlyacquired dicing skills. I smiled to myself as I continued dicing the beets, but it was hard to focus when I was expending so much energy trying not to think about how I’d felt with him standing so close. After a few verses, Alex’s lyrics got stuck in my head, and I joined in at the chorus, the two of us singing at the tops of our lungs.
“Jo, Alex, this is Nina,” our radios called.
I grabbed the radio and sang, “Go for Jo.”
“Just wanted to let you know the guests can hear you,” she snipped. “And I amnota vengeful sea goddess.”
I held down the talk button to answer her, but Alex called out, “It was a compliment!” before I could say anything.
“Sorry,” I added.
“Just get back to work, oryou’llbe crying a river,” she replied.
I turned to Alex, and the two of us erupted into laughter I was positive the guests could hear too.
—
We’d almost survived the dog charter without further catastrophe. Lunch had gone well, and I’d been able to find another polo in my size after Bitty peed on me. And then everything went to shit at the birthday party. Bitty devoured the cupcake Alex had made her but immediately threw it up on the carpet of the Sky Lounge. Mrs. Daniels had started ranting and raving, convinced Alex had put something with gluten in it. Alex must have heard the commotion, because he appeared and calmly explained every ingredient he’d used, then asked if she would like him to prepare something else. Nina stayed out of the fray, keeping a watchful eye on Alex and Mrs. Daniels as she stood behind the bar to make drinks. Meanwhile, I noticed Bitty skittering over to another cupcake and raced to scoop her up. But the dog snapped at me, and I jumped away, a few choice words leaving my mouth. Mrs. Daniels turned her anger on me, claiming I’d provoked Bitty and was being adrama queen. Next thing I knew,Alexwas the one shouting at Mrs. Daniels, telling her exactly where she could shove Bitty’s blow-dryer.
Needless to say, the charter was awkward after that. Nina and I stared openmouthed at Alex as he stormed off in the direction of the galley. I’d never seen him so much as annoyed before, and yet he’d gone from accommodating to fed up in the span of a few seconds. Mrs. Daniels blanched, then whirled on her husband, demanding he do something. Mr. Daniels nodded and told her he’d speak to the captain, but his bored expression remained unchanged, which I guessed meant this behavior wasn’t out of the norm—for Mrs. Daniels or for Bitty.
Once the guests had disembarked and the boat was clean, Alex, Nina, and I convened around the crew mess table, grumpy and exhausted. Alex said he knew the perfect way to blow off steam after a bad charter, but as soon as he started up the steps to the sun deck, Nina and me behind him, Nina called after us, saying she had a date and couldn’t stay. I was halfway up the steps by then and glared down at her, but she only gave me a wave and a wicked grin before disappearing out of sight.
Now, as I stood beside Alex in front of the hot tub, I wasn’t so sure Nina even had a date. Maybe she’d invented one in an attempt to force me into hanging out with Alex in a noncarpool/teenagerless situation.
“Thisis what you do after a bad charter? Stare at the hot tub?”
Alex gave me a sidelong glance. “Of course I don’t stare at the hot tub. I getinthe hot tub. I pretend to be a guest, which is what we’re going to do.”
“But the girls haven’t eaten dinner.”
“And are fully capable of microwaving leftovers,” Alex said. He pulled his shirt over his head and dropped it on deck beside him.
“But I don’t have a bathing—”
Alex unbuttoned his pants and slid them over his hips, and the words died in my mouth. I tried not to stare, but there he was, right in front of me, wearing nothing but black boxer briefs that clung tight to his ass.
“Bathing suit,” I said. “I don’t have a bathing suit.”
“Neither do I,” he said.
Yeah, I noticed, I thought.
“If we have to suffer on a yacht, we might as well enjoy it too,” he added, turning to me with his hands on his hips.
I’d spent half the summer wondering what was underneath those neon-green running shorts, so focusing on the words coming from his mouth instead of everything below it was no easy task. “Enjoy it, yeah,” I said.
“Good,” Alex said, and then he got in the hot tub, making sure to keep his injured hand far from the water.
Had I made it sound like I was on board with this? I stared at Alex, then around at the other boats in the marina, and finally out at the ocean. The sun was only beginning to slip toward the horizon. And it really was nice to watch the sunset from up here. I glanced at Alex. Curse my love of sunsets and good butts. And curse Alex for having a good butt. Pheromones. Pheromones were responsible for this. I pulled my shirt over my head, telling myself that, really, this waslessscandalous than when he’d found me skinny-dipping in the condo pool. I turned away and tugged off my shorts, kicking my clothes into a pile beside Alex’s. Before I could change my mind, I raced into the hot tub and sat as far away from Alex as I could, submerging myself up to my armpits.
