Page 19 of Here for a Good Time
I want to fling myself off of the balcony.
“No?” I squeak out. I’m almost certain I wasn’t.
“Really?” Zwe’s nose wrinkles. “Because you were kinda—” Sitting up himself, he pulls back the covers and makes a thrusting motion. “—grinding my thigh. A lot. And you were moaning about…”
I’m already picturing myself swimming to the bottom of the ocean and never resurfacing. “About what?” The words sound jagged.
“An Eric? Like Prince Eric? I’m assuming the one fromThe Little Mermaid?”
I can physically feel my soul, along with my will to live, leave my body.The Little Mermaid. Zwe’s flowy white shirt. Surely I didn’t—
“You’re kidding,” I sputter, face burning so hot it feels like I got sunburnt.
Zwe erupts into a fit of laughter. I’m still so buried under a cloud of shame that it takes me a beat to realize why he’s laughing. “You fucking dick!” I scream, and whack him with a pillow.
He protects his head with his hands as he gasps for air. “Can we acknowledge that this confirms that you having a sex dream about Prince Eric is totally within the realms of possibility?” he cackles. “I know you used to think he was hot, but a—” He stops to wheeze. “Sex dream?”
“I’m tired! And I didn’t think I’d be gaslit first thing in the morning!”
“Was it—” He takes in a huge gulp of air, barely able to finish the question. “—better down where it’s wetter?”
“You’re dead to me!” I screech, and start whacking him repeatedly with more force.
Zwe jumps out of the bed, and holds open both palms. “Truce! Truce!”
“I am never going to forgive you for this,” I say. “Ever.”
He gives me a playful wink. “Whatever you say, Princess Ariel.”
Shrieking, I hurl the pillow at him, he catches it, throws it back at me, and I duck. “I hate you,” I pant each word.
“Love you more,” Zwe calls out over his shoulder as he makes his way to the bathroom.
Once I process and move past my mortification, I can’t help but chuckle while surveying the now mess of a bed, pillows strewn about, a third of the sheets falling to the floor. And here we thought it was going to be awkward.
“Gooood morning!” Leila greets us at the restaurant entrance. “How’d you two sleep?”
“Like a baby seal on a beach,” I say. “At least, I assume baby seals sleep well on the beach? We had a great sleep, is the answer.”
She, Zwe, and the restaurant’s formal host, whose name tag reads Jay, all laugh. “Was the, um, bed situation okay? Do you want me to add that extra bed after all?” she asks, eyes darting between me and Zwe.
I feel Zwe’s attention transfer onto me, and it takes more effort than it should for us to make eye contact. It’s like we’re tuned in to two radio channels that are just one frequency off. I can’t tell if he’s asking meShould we?orI think we’re fine, right?
I take the plunge. “I think we’re good?” I say slowly, my uncertainty inadvertently drawing up the end of the sentence into a question. I tilt my head at Zwe to communicateRight?, and this he understands because he responds with a smile and a nod.
“Yeah, thanks. It’s perfect how it is. The view in the bedroom is—” He swallows, almost tripping over the next word. “Incredible. I wouldn’t change a thing,” he says, and my stomach does something it’s never done before. Immediately, I think of that blink-and-you-miss-it moment last night where his foot had brushed mine. Fuck, the air here really is different.
“That’s wonderful!” Leila says, breaking my one-sided tension. “If you change your mind, you know how to reach me.”
I expected us to be the only guests in the restaurant, but I didnotexpect the near-mile-long L-shaped buffet table that takes up two walls. From a quick sweep, I clock a multicolored fresh fruit selection, enough baskets of pastries to fill the display at a medium-sized bakery, a cereal bar, an assortment of cold cuts and cheeses, closed stainless steel silver domes with small placards in the front that denote a variety of hot foods, and a separate vegetarian section. That’s in addition to the five small “freshly made” stations wherethere’s a small stove and smiling chef waiting to cook us congee, eggs, noodles, crêpes and/or waffles, except at the last station where there is no stove because that’s where you can get freshly cut and rolled sushi. For drinks, there are several clear glass jugs of fresh juices made from more fruits than I’ve ever simultaneously had in my fridge at one time.
“Is there a small wedding you’re expecting?” I ask Leila.
Leila laughs and shakes her head. “This is our usual breakfast spread. We wanted to make sure you filled up. Not to sound like a parent, but itisthe most important meal of the day. Besides, you’ll need all that energy to last you until lunchtime. Speaking of—” She pulls out my seat for me. “What do you feel like doing today? You can take the active route and do some water activities. Some of our most popular options are kayaking, paddleboarding, and snorkeling, and I can check the weather to see if windsurfing is a possibility. There’s also mountain biking if you want to stay out of the water. Alternatively, if you want to kick-start your time here with some relaxing, our spa menu is incredible. I’d be happy to book you in for a day of pampering. What do you two think?”
“Definitely spa,” I say at the same time that Zwe answers, “I’ve always wanted to go windsurfing.” There’s a pause, then we all laugh.
“As you can see, we have two very different definitions of holidaying,” I tell Leila.
