Page 54 of The Player in New Zealand
He sighed. “No.”
I pursed my lips, thinking. “Please tell me it’s not missionary.”
“It’s not, but what do you have against missionary?”
“It’s boring.”
“It’s romantic,” he countered.
“Are there any wild and crazy Kiwi sex positions?”
He sputtered at that.“What?”
“You know,” I explained. “Like Canada has the Snowpile or the Full Mountie.”
Tane screwed up his face. “We don’t have sex positions like that.”
“Are you sure? I feel like I should search for this.” I pulled out my phone and ignored a message from Iris. I dictated as I typed. “New Zealand. Sex. Positions.”
The search results were a wasteland, so we played a game making up sex positions for Kiwis.
“The Manuka Mindbender,” Tane said.
“Okay, that’s where you dribble honey over my—ahem—honeypot”—he groaned at my bad joke—“and lick it off with tongue swirls.”
We came up with three more before we drove past Lake Taupo, which was one of the places Nina had recommended I visit. The lake itself was beautiful, even though I only caught a glimpse of it here and there from the road.
But the real attraction was the volcanic activity. There were hot springs and sulfuric bubbling mud and geysers.
“I wish we could stop for a visit,” I said wistfully.
“You’ve got a lot of the country to see,” he said. “You sure you can’t afford a car?”
“Not yet, but speaking of which, thanks for driving.”
He shrugged my words off. “Easy as. I like driving. So ‘not yet,’” he said, circling back after my dodge. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but your pay is pretty good. And I’ve seen the hostel you’re staying in. Is there trouble back home?”
“No, it’s just... I borrowed money from my sister to come here. And I do need to pay her back. Her boyfriend makes good money and they live together, but they still have separate finances. I kind of get the idea that he’s a dick about it too. They had a fight soon after she lent me the money. She didn’t say that’s why they fought, but I think that’s probably it.”
“Do you like him?”
“I don’t know him that well,” I replied honestly. “When she moved to Chicago and I was still living in Boston, she usually called from her lunch break at the office. I didn’t interact with him anymore. Now she calls when she’s on her way home from work, if I’m not working a lunch shift. Or when she’s getting ready for work and I’m just getting off work.”
He nodded.
“What about you? Do you like Nina’s husband?” I asked.
At the question, Tane grinned. “I do. He’s quiet as, which I’m sure you’ve noticed. But he’s a great dad and has always had Nina’s back. I know her hours are tough; being a mum and working at a bar means she doesn’t see the kids often.”
He was quiet for a moment, tapping his finger on the wheel and frowning slightly. “I need to take more responsibility around the bar. Get her home more often.”
I reached over and squeezed his forearm. “I’m sure she’d like that.”
The rest of the drive passed with easy conversation and stories and when we pulled up to my hostel hours later, I was disappointed that the weekend was over.
Tane let the truck idle at the curb as he pulled my bag out of the back.
“Froggy style?”
