Page 40 of Ship Happens
I accept her handshake—and make a mental note to find the nearest hand-sanitizing station—before offering my fake name.
“Chester Copperpot?” She smacks the table and giggles. “You’re funny.”
Unsure how to respond, I blink at her. “Yes. So what do you like to do in your free time, Twilight?”
“We don’t really want to talk about hobbies, shug. Let’s swap room numbers and move things along.” A puff of stale air accompanies her hoarse southern twang. “I take it in the ass, shug. Raw.”
She grins, putting her yellowed teeth on display, and I want to run away. Far, far away. Instead, I clear my throat.
“As tempting as that offer is, I think I’d rather shove my dick in a flaming pile of elephant shit.” I smile at her. “Raw.”
Twilight jerks backward as if I’ve slapped her. This isn’t a shining moment for me, and I’m usually more polite, but this woman repulses me. The sooner she moves out of my orbit, the safer we’ll all be. Thankfully, she rises to her full height—which extends by an extra three inches, thanks to her hot-pink heels—and storms out of the lounge.
I lean over my sheet of paper and scribble my thoughts.
Twilight aka Peggy Bundy: Not interested. Smells like a smokestack and looks like a nightmare. 1/5
The man Frankie is seated with stands from his seat andexcuses himself. He probably wants to chase after that raw anal. Some of us need it more than most. She looks at me and shrugs, and we share our first telepathic joke with stifled giggles.
I lean over my paper and scribble something else.
Frankie: Interested against my will. Smells like fresh mint. Looks like
I can’t finish the sentence on the paper, but I can in my head. She smells like fresh mint, and she looks like something I struggle to put words to.
She looks like my downfall.
Chapter Eighteen
Frankie
Ihum a little song under my breath as I rifle through the clothes in my bag. For the life of me, I can’t figure out why Maverick is so pissed. All I did was speak with the speed date organizer after the event so that I could set up dates with our matches. We’re supposed to be having fun, but he looks prepared to set the cruise ship on fire to get out of this evening. I’ll just have to keep the matches out of reach.
He rubs the back of his neck as I try to decide what to wear. “You’re supposed to be seeing things from our side of the fence. If you’re skipping all the Sinner activities, how can we achieve that?”
I fling a dress onto the bed. “Does this look too slutty? I don’t want him to think he’s actually got a chance, but I want him to want me.”
“Are you even listening to me?” He glances at the bed. “Don’t wear that.”
“I’m listening, but that doesn’t mean I agree with you. Besides, we still have four days on the water. I’m sure I’ll beforced to kill again, don’t you worry.” I roll my eyes and pluck a baby-blue romper from the pile of clothes in my bag. “What about this? It’ll give some leg without revealing everything.”
“Yeah, the color goes well with your eyes.” Maverick sighs and goes to the closet. “What about Ice? Have you thought about how this Normie woman might affect him? He probably sees this as a real date. Are you going to break it to him that we’re all just having a bit of fun? And what about the guy you’re seeing? At least I’m not stringing anyone along.”
“Oh, you’ll have a date too. What fun would this be if you weren’t in on the joke?”
He walks toward the bed with a pair of khaki shorts and a gray polo. “You can’t be serious.”
My lip curls. “Neither can you with that grandpa outfit. If you must wear a polo, at least pick one with some color.”
I go to the closet and look through his clothes, but most of the nicer things are also very drab. I feel like I’m rooting through my mother’s wardrobe.
“Jesus, could you borrow something from a friend? What about that British guy? He’s always well-dressed.”
“We’re roughly the same height, but he’s a bit bulkier. I’ll look like I’m playing dress up with Daddy’s clothes if I borrow anything from him.”
“What about the really crass dude who wears the fun Hawaiian prints?”
“Bennett?”
