As soon as I stepped into line on the black ramp leading up to the ship, my heart pounded with anxiety.
This was it.
Ali was somewhere on this ship.
For the first time in years, we would be face-to-face.
When it was my turn to hand over my ticket and passport, my hands shook as I fumbled with my stuff. I had steady hands all through our playoff run, including during the overtime in our last championship game, but the prospect of seeing her had my whole body trembling.
_________
After finding my small shoebox of a room for the week, I threw my suitcase on the bed and stood there for a second.
Now that my nerves had worn off and I was here, this whole thing felt a little…lame.
Fuck.I flopped down on the bed. Why was I always doing stupid things when it came to this girl?
Blowing out a sigh, I rubbed my eyes. What did I think was going to happen? I’d walk on the ship and she’d be waiting for me? Thiswas a massive cruise with over 6,000 people aboard. How the hell was I supposed to find her? Where would I even start looking?
Feeling like a loser, I changed into my swimsuit and wandered up to the deck. If anything, at least I’d come home with a baby tan.
As I scanned the deck for her familiar blonde hair, regret weighed heavy on my chest. Because maybe my being here wasweird?Maybe I was ambushing her?
God, no. I hoped she wouldn’t think that. I didn’t want toscareher. That was the absolute last thing I ever wanted to do to her.
Pressing the heel of my palms into my eyes, I suddenly majorly regretted not asking her permission to come aboard. This was her home. Her safe place. And I was the trespasser. I clearly didnotthink this through enough.
Taking out my phone, I clicked the contact I never let myself even look at, then started typing with shaky fingers. After hitting send, the familiar blue line appeared at the top, but it struggled to fully cross the screen.I held my breath, waiting for the text to fully send, but after a couple minutes, it failed.
No service.
Shit.
I dropped my phone at my feet and hung my head.
Well, there was nothing I could do about it now unless I wanted to swim with the sharks. I was locked on this ship.
Fuck me.
And fuck Kappy for putting these thoughts in my head while I was blacked the fuck out.
_________
After wandering the ship for a couple hours by myself, I was really looking forward to dinner. Apparently the dining room had assigned seating, so I was hoping to be at a table with some decent conversation. I wasn’t used to having a whole day pass by with no human interaction. Whenever I felt a hint of loneliness in Chicago, I’d just head over to the rink to chat with Hans or drive to Colt’s house where something was always going on.
In the dining room, I was the first to arrive at my six-top table. I sat there in my polo and slacks all by myself, waiting for someone, anyone, to come sit down.
But as the minutes passed by, I watched the rest of the dining room fill up, and not a single soul wandered over to my table. When my salad was delivered, I had to accept that I’d be dining alone.
With nothing else to do while eating, I started people-watching. It was clear my waitress, a college-aged kid with long dark hair and large brown eyes, had a crush on the waiter with surfer boy hair across the room. Her eyes were glued to him as she read me the dessert options for the night.
“You like him, eh?” I asked with a chuckle.
“W-what?” Her eyes snapped to mine and a blush stained her cheeks.
I rubbed my mouth with a napkin to cover my laugh. “Yeah, the guy over there? With the surfer boy hair?”
She stood straighter. “I-I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she stammered, but her eyes quickly darted to him once more.
