Rock the Boat (8 page)

Even if he was hiding something from me, I never once saw that kind of intensity in Grant’s eyes. Even when we were at our best, it was never like
that
. We may have had some earth shattering sex while we were together, but the love we shared was tainted once I saw Grant was having even better sex with someone else. It had to be better than we shared, or why else would he need to go to
her
?

Regardless of Grant’s choices, I wasn’t expecting to leave the theater with options. The girl that came alive for the first time in a really long time, had no idea one man could leave such an impact on her in such a short time. But tonight, I was schooled. Tonight, Easton showed me how a real man pleasures a woman, and even though I told Noelle I wasn’t into random hook-ups, and that I needed to feel something in order to have sex with a guy, I went against all my principles without a second thought. Do I regret it? No, I can’t. Not after what he just did to me—how he so easily gave me exactly what I needed without even asking what I wanted.

Even with so little information about who he is, I have a feeling the best way to get to know Easton Beck is to listen to what he’s not saying. There’s something about the way his eyes tell stories and his body ends each and every statement with the perfect punctuation. You can’t replace those moments with words. You have to feel those conversations with your body and interpret them in your soul.

I want him to be waiting for me on the other side of the theater door, admitting he should have taken me with him when he left. Only once I open the door, the small lobby is empty. The photography stand that’s normally full of pictures is dark—the marquee sign announcing the ship’s Broadway At Sea production, unlit.

If I hadn’t experienced the last half hour, I’d think it was a figment of my imagination. But I was paying attention. Something happened—something that would change the course of the week. I wasn’t quite sure how, yet, but I knew the choice was mine. That alone made me happy.

The sudden shift in my mood was like the tide, and I needed to decide if I wanted to stay close to shore where it was safe, or if I wanted to venture further out to sea where the risks could either make me or break me.

I have time to make my final decision—even if I’m already leaning so far in one direction it will be hard to convince myself otherwise.

Noelle warned me that this trip would change me. I just didn’t think I’d be tested so soon. I don’t expect her to be in the room when I get there, but she’s sitting with her back against the headboard, flipping through the channels on the TV. When she sees me, she tosses the remote next to her on the mattress, her body language somewhat defeated. “Thank god you’re back. I’m starving.”

“I thought you were going out.”

“We had some champagne at the bar and walked around for a little while. It was nice.”

“Nice? Not great though?”

Disappoint flashes across her face. “Not really. My expectations have been astronomical. I think I set the bar too high. I thought it would be so magical—like love at first sight. I mean, it’s not like I was going to meet him for drinks and screw him or anything, but I realize I need to be more realistic. It’s going to take time to build a relationship.”

I stare at her, realizing she described exactly how my night has gone so far. “Don’t give up so fast. You can still have all that. He’s probably just shy. This process is intimidating.” I walk over to my closet and take out a pair of shorts and a tank top. “I’m going to take a quick shower and then we can get something to eat.”

“A shower? I’m starving, Lark.”

“I promise I’ll hurry.” Before she has a chance to ask me why I need another shower, I step into the small bathroom, closing the door behind me. I take a second to look at my reflection in the mirror, wondering if I looked any different. I feel different.

I lean forward, checking my neck for marks. Sure enough, there’s a little reminder of Easton that’s been left behind in the form of a faint bruise. I haven’t had a hickey since high school. It’s nothing I can’t cover with some makeup or my hair, but if I do see him again, he’s going to have to be more careful.

Careful definitely isn’t a word I would use to describe what happened between us, but I’m content with his adventurous side, especially since I can still feel the way his tongue moved inside me.

The bathroom door opens, just as I’m stepping out of the shower with my towel wrapped around me. Noelle grabs her brush off the counter before she stares at me. I make sure to turn my head so she can’t see my neck, even if the mark isn’t as noticeable as it feels. “What’s going on with you, Lark?”

I tighten the towel around my body, trying as hard as I can to keep the smile off my face. It’s not fair to gloat when she’s down. “Nothing. Why?”

“You seem different than when you left.”
I am different
, I want to tell her. “Either you really liked Easton or you’re comparing him to Grant and freaking yourself out—I haven’t decided which yet.”

“It would be impossible not to compare the two, but I’m not going to base my decisions on Grant.”

She follows me to my closet, not that she has much choice considering it’s right next to the couch. But while I’m busy assuring her I’m not going to stay stuck in the past, I forget about the marks on my neck.

I feel her stand up and move closer. She leans in, poking at my skin like she isn’t sure if it’s dirt or something more. “A goddamn hickey, Lark!”

I spin around, clutching my shirt in my hands. “It’s nothing you need to worry about.” She’s never going to drop this. Not in a million years. Noelle thrives off juicy details, and right now, she’s aware I’m hiding a host of them.

“Lark Williams, you little hoe. This is most definitely
something.
”

She lets me find some clothes to put on, but she sits on the end of the bed with her arms crossed over her chest, waiting for me to start talking. Once I’m dressed, I turn to face her, expecting narrowed eyes and the third degree. Instead, I get a knowing smirk. She’s actually enjoying this. “Well?” she asks.

“So, Easton’s nice.”

She laughs so hard, she falls backward on the bed. “What the hell happened? Please, let me live vicariously through you for a little while.”

“What didn’t happen?” I tell her with a smile on my face.

“What do you mean?”

“We had drinks—a glass of wine for me followed up by your favorite tequila. I wasn’t wasted, but I had a good buzz going by the time we left the lounge. I heard your voice in the back of my head telling me I lost my edge, so I let him take me to the theater.”

“The theater? Why there?”

She’s going to flip her shit when I tell her this, and that brings me so much satisfaction. For once, I have a juicy story to dish. “This is probably a good time to tell you, he’s the lead singer of Midnight Fate. He’s
the
Easton Beck. His band is currently contracted on this ship. And . . .”

I don’t get to finish my thought because Noelle is off the bed and standing in front of me with wide eyes and her hand over her mouth. “Ohmigod, I love Midnight Fate. Do you even realize how jealous I am of you right now?”

“I have a pretty good idea. But I thought you were hungry.”

“I’ve waited this long, you’re going to tell me what happened first.” She sits back down, clutching a pillow in her arms and resting her chin on the top of it. When I take a little too long to gather my thoughts, trying to decide how much I want to tell my best friend, and how much I should leave out, she sits up a little straighter. “Wait, you don’t regret it, right?”

Her next question is an easy one. I shake my head. “It was the biggest rush I’ve ever felt in my life—or at least in a really long time. I swear he’s more your type than mine, but maybe different is exactly what I need right now. You did say I lost my edge.”

She thinks about it for a second before nodding her head. “I only know his music, but he doesn’t seem like the kind of guy you’d typically fall for, but that makes me happy. The polar opposite of Grant is exactly who I would pick for you. I told you the ship had it under control.”

I wouldn’t say it’s under control. Nothing about Easton seems controlled. He’s the kind of guy who makes his own decisions without answering to others. “This isn’t going beyond this week, especially considering he’s employed here, but a week without expectations is exactly what I’m looking for.”

“For two people who aren’t heading anywhere, you’re off to a damn good start. I think it’s called chemistry though. Clearly, you have it or you wouldn’t have that mark on your neck and that smile on your face. God, my date was a snooze fest in comparison.”

“Is Lincoln that bad?”

“I don’t think he’d be my first choice. I like a rugged guy with a filthy mouth who gets me in all kinds of trouble. Granted those guys usually end up breaking my heart, but hell if it isn’t fun trying.”

“I think it sounds pretty awful. You deserve more than a broken heart, Noelle.”

“It’ll stop breaking once I’m with the right guy. But I feel like if I was with Lincoln long-term, and we broke up, he’d probably just go home and do his taxes or check the stocks. I’m trying to figure out why The Perfect Match has me with a Suit. I’ve never dated a Suit before.”

“I’ve never dated a musician, but just because you didn’t have an instant spark doesn’t mean one won’t develop over time. Be the Noelle I love, and he’ll see it, too.”

“The potential is there, so I’m going to see it through, but if he doesn’t make a move tomorrow to show me he’s interested, it’ll be hard not to be disappointed. We only have six more days to make something happen.”

“It will happen on its own.” I’m a testament to that theory.

She shakes her head, smiling again. “You lucky bitch.”

Standing up, I grab my purse and open the door. “Let’s go.”

She follows behind and we wander around until we find the steakhouse on the fifth level nestled between a boutique and a coffee shop. I scan the menu, trying to figure out what I want, but I find myself discreetly glancing around the room for Easton instead. Luckily, Noelle’s oblivious to my wandering eyes as she sips her sangria.

“We should check out the casino after this,” I suggest, hoping that if I make plans with Noelle, it will give me more time to gather the courage to go to Easton.

“Because you feel so lucky tonight? A damn rockstar. What are the chances?”

“Slim to none, but I can’t help who they matched me up with. You said so yourself.”

“No, it’s cool. We’ll check out the casino and then hit up the theater.”

As soon as she says the word theater, my cheeks flame crimson. My pulse spikes and my body temperature rises a few degrees. I’m almost afraid to ask, but I do anyway. “What’s going on in the theater?” My conscious is cackling, and all I can focus on are drum sticks.

Noelle sets her wine down, laughing at the mortified expression on my face. She’s going to have way too much fun with this. It’s another reason why I’m glad I left out all the major details. The hickey was enough for her to process. “Other than your earlier tryst, a certain rock star has a show tonight.”

“I’m pretty sure he performs somewhere every day. So, if you don’t want to go, that’s perfectly fine with me. We can catch him another night.”

“Oh, no you don’t. We’re going to the show tonight. And I’m going to enjoy every second of watching you squirm. Plus, I need to check him out for myself.”

I don’t bother arguing with her. Mostly because I want to be there watching Easton in his element. This may be the only time in my life I can say I dated someone famous. Not to mention I’ll know exactly where he is, so I can relax long enough to stop wondering if he’s close by. “When are you seeing Lincoln again? Did you invite him, too?”

“We’re supposed to be going to the beach tomorrow when we dock in Nassau. Nothing like jumping into a bathing suit in front of a guy you just met.” She pauses a second before laughing. “Then again, you probably lost your clothes completely.”

I kick her under the table. “My clothes were on, thank you very much.”

“On and around your waist are two different things, Lark.”

I’ll never win this argument, so I stand up from the table, excusing myself to the bathroom. I need a minute. A long minute to get myself together before I go back out there and finish the night.

I set my bag on the counter and rifle through for some lip gloss. My hand taps against something cool. I pull out the anniversary ring from Grant that I tossed in haphazardly the other night after too much thinking. I left the house with it on my finger, positive that I could still wear it, even with the meaning attached to it. When I found myself staring at it more than I should, I pulled it off and swore I’d never put it back on my finger. Finding it now only screws with my head more, but regardless of what I choose to do with Easton, I can’t go back to the way things were. Those days have come and gone.