Page 33 of Companion Required

“And if anyone’s interested, we’re having our own afternoon drinks party. On the eighth day at sea, after Vietnam. A small gathering before the captain’s table banquet in the evening. Our cabin’s a little cosier than this one, but you’re all very welcome to join.”

“A toast,” said Pete, who had stood the whole time with his arms crossed, but now raised his flute of champagne. “Here’s to having fun and adventures on the high seas.”

“Hear, hear,” said Eric, topping up his glass with red wine and taking a gulp.

Maybe Kieran imagined the reaction, but everyone appeared to join in half-heartedly. Straight afterwards, Patrick and his friends filed out of the cabin, Joey smiling a farewell at Kieran. Hopefully he had forgotten his earlier question. Almost as soon as the door closed, the room breathed a collective sigh of relief.

“What the fuck just happened?” said Pete, almost the same time as Steph took over.

“Oh my God, Kennedy,” she said, turning on Kennedy. “I totally forgot to mention. There’s a ballroom dance competition the night of the captain’s table. I’ve already entered us.”

Kieran noticed that Kennedy’s mind had been elsewhere, but she now had his full attention.

“Shiply Ballroom. And people, me and sex god Kennedy here are going to wow everyone with our signature tango to the Latin version of Roxanne—El Tango de Roxanne. Not exactly the same dance, but the same song as theMoulin Rougemovie version. So we’ll need you there to support.”

“Yeah, I don’t think so,” said Kennedy.

“You dance?” asked Kieran, incredulous.

“Darling,” said Pete. “These two have moves you would not believe. They’ve been dancing since university days. Kennedy, you have to say yes. Just to fuck Patrick off.”

“You do,” said Laurie, who had initially appeared unsure, but was now nodding. “That bastard needs to be shown that you’re still fun to be around.”

Kieran could not imagine Kennedy dancing to anything, let alone ballroom. But maybe the man he had come to like had hidden depths.

“Let’s at least have a practice run,” said Steph. “Find an empty space and go through the dance steps. See what we can remember. What do you say?”

* * * *

Once the party finished, their group headed to the restaurant, and although Kieran ate his fill of the buffet food, Kennedy’s appetite appeared to have evaporated. Steph’s suggestion that they end the evening with a couple of potent cocktails at the bar on deck had worked to soften everyone’s mood before they headed back to their respective cabins.

That night, after Kennedy had finished in the bathroom, Kieran took his turn to get ready to sleep. If he’d felt any apprehension about sharing the huge bed with Kennedy, everything melted away when he saw Kennedy sitting up, arms folded, glaring into space.

“Look at us,” Kieran said, as he slipped beneath the covers, trying to make light of the situation. “In bed together with absolutely no intention of having sex. We ought to be married.”

Kennedy had no reaction, still lost in thought staring at the foot of the bed.

“Sorry, I’m talking nonsense. Nervous, I guess. It’s the first time I’ve shared a bed with a guy.”

In response, Kennedy snorted softly.

“I told you I’d be a gentleman.”

“I know, I know. Sorry. Are you okay?”

Kennedy turned his head to Kieran and attempted a smile.

“Go to sleep, Kieran.”

Kieran snuggled beneath the quilt, his head sinking into the pillow, staring at the ceiling. Kennedy had been right—he barely noticed him moving on his side of the bed when he readied himself to sleep.

“So—err—what happened? With you and Patrick?”

“We’re not going there.”

“Okay then, but tell me if I’m fucking up here? Give me something I can work with.”

Kennedy sighed loudly.

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