Page 9 of Give Me a Chance
“Oh, you know our boy doesn’t do one-night stands,” Noah pokes fun at me.
“I know, but he has to at least try it. Have you ever had a one-night stand?” They’re both nowall inthe idea of me hooking up with a stranger.
“I have. It’s not my thing.” I’m not a virgin. I do sometimes engage in casual sex. It’s just not my preferred type of sex.
“Come on! You can’t say that fucking someone on a random night out with no plans or expectations doesn’t hold a certain appeal?” Noah is suddenly talkative, courtesy of Johnnie Walker.
“It was fine.” That’s a gross understatement. Last one-night stand I had was by far the best sex of my life. It’s also an honorary memory in my spank bank and, if I’m being honest, the reason for many failed first dates.
How can I give my attention to the nice girl sitting in front of me when images of a certain curly-haired firecracker telling me she never wants a repeat of the out-of-body experience we shared fill my mind?
Pretty soon, as if the guys arranged it, a group of attractive girls in their early twenties—which I consider way too young for me—walk up to us. Connor and Noah direct their advances toward me, and I spend the rest of my night declining their offers respectfully.
Regardless, it’s a good night. We laugh a lot, drink a ton, and the electronic music isn’t half bad.
“How about we call it a night?” Connor proposes after checking his phone.
“What’s the rush?” I smirk.
“The girls are heading home.” He shrugs.
“Shit, it’s three a.m.,” Noah says, checking the time.
“Let’s go,” I agree. We’d had a great time, but I don’t want to spend the rest of the trip hungover.
The girls are already there when we get back to Malena. They look cute, obviously intoxicated, giggling amongst themselves. Their dresses are slightly askew, and they have a hard time walking in the heels they’re wearing, Rina especially. Connor steps up, picking Rina up in his arms, and she continues giggling until he quiets her with his mouth. Their make-out session turns hotter than appropriate for a crowd, so they retreat to their cabin, leaving the four of us.
“I want to watch the stars,” Anne squeals and heads upstairs. Getting to the top deck is a feat, considering we’re all trying to keep her upright. We take a few bottles of water from the bar area and sit on the lounge chairs.
Anne is by far the drunkest, but Noah is right behind her. Natalie seems fine, but I don’t dare look at her too long. The short dress she’s wearing is riding dangerously high on her thighs, her tits practically spilling out of the top.
“We went to three clubs—which were all amaaaazing.” Anne starts reiterating their night, standing up from the lounge. “And we danced the whole night.” She shows off her dance moves, following a beat only she can hear. “And we drank. A lot.” A hiccup. “We couldn’t keep up with the amount of drinks guys were buying for us.” She lets out a small giggle.
Noah laughs as if the story is a Netflix comedy special.
“Wow! Lucky you. We had to buy our own drinks.” He takes a big gulp of water. “Except this guy.” He points at me. “He was a hit with the ladies.” A hint of blush creeps up my face, though I have nothing to be ashamed of. Still, I’d prefer not talking about it in front of Natalie.
“Ooh, ooh!” Anne slaps Noah’s shoulder. “Natalie was the same with the guys! This scorching hot waiter was circling her the whole night until she finally gave in and gave him some love.” She hugs her arms around herself, I guess reenacting their make out session.
Just like that, the shame is gone, replaced by possessive jealousy. It starts deep in my stomach, a tiny flame working its way up to my mouth. Before something stupid comes out if it, I extinguish it down with some cold water.
Natalie chuckles, seemingly unaware of my inner turmoil.
“Come on! Tell them how hot he was.” She goads Natalie. “These Croatian men are something else.”
“He was pretty hot,” she laughs. “And he certainly knew how to use his tongue, if you know what I mean.” She raises her eyebrows suggestively, and Noah and Anne act like it’s the funniest thing they’ve ever heard.
The tiny flame I extinguished? It’s a raging fire now, making me want to break the truce and spit out an insult. Or worse, shut her up with my mouth.
Anne suddenly drops onto the lounge.
“I think I’m going to be sick,” Anne says.
“I’m going to help her back to her room,” Noah says, and Natalie thanks him.
Usually, I’m the first one to help others in need. But now, there are more pressing matters at hand. Because this truce? It’s over.
7
