Page 23 of Blood of the Sirens
I laughed.
“Not a soda guy, then,” I confirmed, trying not to giggle as his features screwed up like a child forced to eat a piece of broccoli. I downed the rest of the soda quickly, mostly to have something to do.
“Carbonation takes some getting used to.”
With a thunk, my glass hit the counter.
“So, it must be really different where you’re from,” I started, since it was obvious he had to be from somewhere pretty remote. What guy had never tasted soda before? And carried around amazingly effective homeopathic remedies?
Eyeing his tanned skin and long, dreadlocked hair, I guessed he was from a small island somewhere. Perhaps Polynesian? Then again, hewasblond. Mixed heritage? I wanted to know everything.
“It is very different here. This is my first time in your … city.” The way he said it, I could tell he was trying to be polite and didn’t care much for the crowds and noise any more than I did this time of year.
“It’s tourist season.” I laughed. “That means it’s loud, chaotic, and filled with too many people. It will be even worse starting tonight.”
I hopped off the counter and opened the fridge, scoring a banana and the last bits of a leftover sandwich from Subway.
“Hungry?” I asked, raising half of the sandwich toward him.
Merrick’s brow raised in a knowing look, ignoring my sandwich offering. “Ah, yes. The ritual.”
I froze in the act of raising the sandwich to my mouth.
“The what now?” I offered the banana to Merrick, who took it reverently, then simply held it out in his hand.
That ruled out a remote island. Didn’t all remote islands have bananas?
“The ritual,” he continued eagerly as if wanting to impress me, “when the young females all descend upon the shore and dance. There is music, and food, and—”
“Do you meanspring break?” I clarified, choking a bit. To an outsider, spring breakwouldlook like one giant cult ritual, wouldn’t it?
Don’t laugh in his face.
“Yes, the Break of Spring,” he clarified. “It happens every year.” He looked quite proud to know this.
I finished the sandwich and took the banana back from him to set on the counter for later. The kitchen was narrow, so I had to lean across Merrick to do so. When I drew back, he was staring, all expression gone from his face. Had I offended him? Touched him inappropriately?
“Is that why you’re here, then? For spring break?” I asked, unnerved by his full and undivided attention. I wasn’t used to it, not from guys like him. He was probably here to get some ass, just like most of the buff guys who rolled into town this time of year.
“Yes, actually.”
My chest seized, and I glanced at the floor. And here I thought he’d be different. “Ah. I get it. So … you’re one of those guys who like bigger girls then?”
It hurt to ask, but I had to know. It wasn’t anything against him, but I wasn’t into that. At all. I left the kitchen and sat down on the loveseat to give myself some space from him.
He followed, brows furrowed. “Bigger girls. What do you mean? You are not large compared to me.”
Merrick was either dumb or playing me. I grit my teeth, embarrassed to have to spell it out for him.
“Guys like you, with all your … muscles. They don’t usually go for people who look like me.”
He blinked.
I resisted the urge to punch a pillow. “Usually guys like you go for girls like … like the ones in the golf cart you came here with.”
Merrick’s nose wrinkled. “The skinny ones with no clothes?”
I nodded hesitantly.
