Page 36 of Overachiever
While Graham and I have had a few beers throughout the day, we’ve sweat them out as we put them in, but Marty is plastered. “I don’t want to go back. I’m just going to live here,” he slurs, chomping on a fish taco.
“Dibs on his room,” I reply.
“Keep your deflowered ass out of my room.”
“For the last time, my ass has not been deflowered. You really need to stop thinking about it, no matter how much my brown eye turns you on.”
Remee swallows a laugh with her soda when I start humming Billie Eilish’sBad Guy.
Serena regards Remee with a smirk. “I can’t believe you didn’t gag him. I’ve never met someone more in need of a ball gag.”
Serena dodges the wadded up napkin I toss at her. “Not all of us enjoy gagging on balls as much as you. Cut me a break.”
“All because of a weird sex dream.” Zara shakes her head.
Remee exclaims, “Zara!” at the same time I shout, “I knew it!”
She slaps Zara’s arm. “I didn’ttellhim.”
It was clear she was dreaming about me, but I never could get her to tell me about it. “Tell me now.”
“No! It was weird and embarrassing.”
Marty laughs and wipes taco sauce from his chin. “I’ve had some fucked up sex dreams. Like, I always dream about that new pop singer, Gloria whoever—I don’t know, but she’s got great tits. My brain won’t let it happen though. Every time I get her naked, there’s a padlock on her pussy or it’s just smooth like a doll.”
Zara lays her forehead in her palm. “Marty, seriously.”
“No, really! I tried banging against it, but it was a no go.”
Graham speaks up. “I had a dream about a woman from work a few years ago. I was naked on the bed, she stripped, dove on top of me, then exploded into water like a busted balloon.”
Remee grins at me as everyone laughs. It’s good to have all our friends together again and to know what we’re doing didn’t make things weird. It’s time to talk to her about becoming more than temporary.
“Oh! I almost forgot,” Remee exclaims, rifling through her beach bag until she finds a shiny brochure. “I have a surprise for you two.” She passes the brochure to Zara, who opens it and holds it where Serena can see it too in the fading light. “I booked us on a luxury spa day cruise tomorrow. We spend the day on a yacht.”
Serena beams at her. “Drinking cocktails and getting massages on the deck of a yacht? Yes!”
“And it has a glass bottom section to watch the wildlife,” Zara adds.
They exclaim and chatter, planning their day, and I glance at Graham. “Well, I guess we know where we aren’t wanted.”
Marty leans back on his palms, almost falling when the sand shifts beneath them. “I want to rent a jet ski. You can go get pedicures on a boat.”
Even drunks have a good idea occasionally. “I know a place we can rent some.”
With plans made for the next day, we head back to the motel. Marty and Graham are sharing a room next to Zara and Serena’s. As they go upstairs, Marty can’t resist a parting shot. “Go easy on him tonight, Remee!” he calls from the second level, while I’m unlocking the door to our room. “He has to be able to sit on a jet ski tomorrow!”
Giggling, Remee tilts her head up and holds up her middle finger. “No promises!”
“Very funny,” I chide, ushering her through the door.
My intention is to talk to her tonight about us, but by the time I get out of the shower, she’s curled up asleep. When I crawl into bed with her, a slight smile raises her lips, and she sighs softly, cuddling into me.
My question can wait until tomorrow. As long as I have this, there’s nothing else I need.
Chapter Twelve
Remee
