Page 19 of Love On Deck
Drew steps out of the bathroom.
“Can you hold on a minute?” Connor puts a hand over the speaker.
“I told Will that we were together and that he could pretend to text me after he finds out from Casey what we’re doing,” Drew whispers.
Connor’s breath stalls as Drew speaks, and he goes light-headed. Fuck, fuck, fuck. He has to clear his throat to ask, “You did what?”
Chapter Eight
Drew steps back, mouth thinning, eyes going wide.
Connor jams the phone back against his ear. “I’ll call you back,” he says to Casey and disconnects. “You told Will we were together? Doing what?”
“He inferred we’d had sex. I didn’t correct him.”
“You…” Connor starts hyperventilating and narrows his eyes and glares at Drew. He’s pissed and he’s scared and he wants to punch the wall. But he can’t chance breaking his fingers or his fucking knuckles. “How could you?” His heart beats as if trying to break through his rib cage. He scrapes both hands through his hair. Will knows. And if Will knows, then Casey probably kn— Shit. He can’t think it.
Drew holds out his hands in a placating gesture. “The ball game was his idea. I’m sorry. He—”
“I can’t believe you,” he says and grabs up his shorts and jams his legs into the leg holes and jerks the zipper closed. Connor can’t do this right now. He has to get out of here. Because if he stays here one moment longer than he has to, he’s definitely going to do something he regrets. He scoops up his shirt and yanks it over his head. “I didn’t want my sister to know about this.”
“She doesn’t. Connor—”
He spears Drew with another look. “You can’t know that. Oh my God. Shit.” He pats down his pockets for his wallet and phone with jittery hands and storms from Drew’s cabin on rubbery knees.
He can’t take the elevators. They’ll take too long to arrive. He’s gotta keep moving, and he’d be a sitting target if Drew decides to follow him. He can’t deal with Drew just yet. The stairwell is to the left and he ducks into it. Bracing his hands on his knees, he takes deep breaths to calm his staccato heart beat and gain control of his breathing. He’s got to call Casey back, and he’s got to sound normal.
“Connor!” he hears from the passageway. His gaze darts to the door and his pulse spikes again.
Shit. He’s got to put distance between him and Drew before Drew tracks him down. Connor’s cabin is several decks below. Taking one last calming breath, he thumbs awake his phone and dials before heading down the stairs.
“Is everything all right?” Casey asks. She doesn’t sound angry or upset, so maybe Will hasn’t said anything. But Drew had no right to open his mouth.
Connor takes another steadying breath. “Sure, yeah. Sorry about that. What do you want to do tonight?”
* * *
Connor’s prepared himself to see Drew. He’ll be polite, but he certainly isn’t going to engage him in conversation. Jesus. After everything Connor revealed, and Drew just spills the beans.
Casey and Will arrive, but not Drew. Relief weights his limbs, although, for all Connor knows, Drew is running late. He’ll take the reprieve.
Casey eyes him as she leans in for a hug. “You sure you’re all right?”
“I’m fine,” he says, hoping he sounds convincing and not impatient.
By her moue, he thinks not, but she doesn’t call him on it.
“The casino, I think,” she says, looping her arm through his and turning him toward the cashier.
He’s not much of a gambler on a good day, and today is no longer a good day, so he bypasses the poker and blackjack tables in favor of the slot machines. They’re mindless and easy, and winning is more luck of the draw than skill. So in a word: perfect.
Bells ring and lights flash from the shadowed areas that house the slots. Laughter, chatter, and music assault his eardrums. The sounds of a stadium full of cheering fans are far enough away that they blend together to create a muted roar that he can block out. These sounds are too close, too sharp, and they’re ratcheting up his irritation.
Casey takes the stool next to his and chatters away about yesterday in Cozumel before she’d gotten sick and today’s adventure swimming with the dolphins. He listens with half an ear, grunting when a response seems to be needed. He’s here because he promised he’d spend the evenings with her. He’d rather be anywhere else right now, aside from anywhere near Drew. An hour on the ship’s stage would be fucking perfect, but there’s a show going on, so it’s not even an option. He’ll sit here with Casey and escape at the first available opportunity.
Fifty one-dollar coins fill a plastic cup imprinted with the name and outline of the ship. He drops a dollar in the slot and pulls the lever. The reels whirl around for a few moments before coming to a halt. Nada. He feeds in another coin and pulls again.
The strain in his shoulders eases by degrees as the minutes tick away and Drew fails to make an appearance. That’s one issue he doesn’t have to deal with, at least not right now, but Connor can’t stop the whirlwind of his thoughts despite the noise of the casino.
