Page 21 of Rum Sips and Salty Lips

“Oh. Yes. I forgot to mention he moved in next door.” She won’t judge me if I told her I slept with him. I wouldn’t judge her if she had. I would’ve been jealous, but I wouldn’t judge.

The whole point of a fling is that no one needs to get involved. No friends are told. Feelings aren’t involved. It’s been fine so far. Apart from my one relationship, this works for me.

“That’s fun. I liked him. We should invite him to Paradise tonight,” Haley says, not commenting on the unlikely story that I forgot about him.

“Sure.” I convinced Christian to do a small launch for the rum. More like a happy hour than a party. Minimal work. Easy. It’s the kind of encounter I wanted in my fantasy, the whole reason I initially thought to do something for Christian. It became a reality and now it feels risky. “He knows Alex, so that would work.”

“Weird that Alex never mentioned him,” she says. “Have you talked to him much?”

“A little,” I say. “I’m not sure he’s looking to get attached. He might be around seasonally.” He says he’s staying but I don’t believe it. A quick trip to Antigua could easily turn into him being gone for ages. I need to keep reminding myself why it’s a bad idea to get close to him when my body hums at the thought of him.

“You were once only around seasonally.”

She’s right. It was family trips for years, then breaks from college and graduate school before I was able to make Wendell Beach my home. But I’ve always had strong friendships here. And I love this island more than any other place I’ve been.

My mind feels clouded with him. I can’t focus on the things I normally do. As if he knows, Orion brings out a speaker and starts playing music.

“Crap, this might be a problem,” I say. We only have a few minutes before we need to start filming. Everything is ready and we have a limited window to finish before it’s too hot out to properly function.

“It’s fine,” she says, adjusting the camera settings. “I doubt the microphones are sensitive enough to pick it up. I can always edit it out later.”

“I don’t want to risk it, especially if it’s more work for you.”

I exit through my side gate and enter his backyard. He either doesn’t hear or is choosing to ignore me. But he will challenge me on my simple request to turn down his music. He said he wouldn’t go easy on me, and I feel like this is exactly the thing he’d be difficult about for the sole purpose of being difficult.

“Hey, do you mind turning that down?”

He jumps a little as if I’ve startled him and I smile smugly.

“What was that?” He points to his ear like he didn’t hear me.

He heard me and is screwing with me, he has to be. “Your music. Can you turn it down?”

He blinks. “I’m sure I’m allowed to play music on my property at a reasonable volume during the daytime. Especially when you don’t even give me a please.”

The way he says “my property” makes me question if I’ve misjudged him and he’s going to talk about his right to do whatever he wants because this is America. I shudder. “It’s not a reasonable volume. I can hear it in my yard.”

His head tilts to the side. I can’t read his expression behind his sunglasses and hat. “I fail to see how that’s my problem.”

He’s right. This isn’t his problem. It is my problem so I should fix it on my own. I need him to do something nice for me, out of the goodness of his heart. I don’t think I’ll get that.

I huff. “I know you don’t care about me, but this is for Haley. We’re filming a video for her, and we can’t have your crappy music screwing up the sound.”

He takes off his sunglasses and looks at me with eyes narrowed and arms crossed over his chest. I try hard to not pay attention to his forearms.

It’s a few breaths before he responds. “What makes you think I don’t care about you?”

“Because our entire relationship is transactional, and you don’t have to care about the person you’re transacting with.”

“That’s how you treat people? As if they’re a transaction?”

“No, that’s not what I…” How did this conversation get derailed? “I have no reason to believe you don’t.”

He fucked me right after he met me, and that could be common behavior for him. Just because I have my rules about it doesn’t mean he does. He’s given me no reason to think I mean anything more to him. But he means so much more to me, and a part of me hates him for it. I couldn’t keep this in the box I put him in.

His face is impassive, but his eyes flare for less than a second. “Look, Carina, I was always going to turn down the music. You just have to ask. I was giving you a hard time like I told you I would, because no one ever does. But if you’re going to jump down my throat and assume the worst of me, then I won’t make that mistake again.”

“No, I’m sorry…it’s…”Step one is always apologize.My stomach twists. I try so hard to do the right thing. It kills me when I don’t.

---