Page 86 of The Vacation Mix-Up
“It tastes like tuna fish.”
I poke my tongue out, pretending to gag. “I can’t believe you ate it raw. Yuck!”
“You’re supposed to.”
I shudder.
“I thought you liked sushi?”
Impressed he remembered that, Isay, “I do! But raw whale? Nope. Just… nope. Please tell me you didn’t eat seal too.”
He rubs his belly, and my jaw drops.
“Riley,” I gasp.
“I’m kidding.” He chuckles. “I didn’t eat seal. They’re too cute, remember?”
My heart stupidly thumps in my chest again, something it feels the need to do around him, and I have to tell it to settle the hell down.
“You ready to head back to the ship?” he asks, shaking his arms to heat his body temperature.
“I guess so. You?”
“Yeah, I’m done. I saw everything I wanted to see. Plus, there’s some Truth or Dare show in the theatre.” He side-eyes me and smirks. “And there’s prizes.”
My ears prick. “Prizes?”
Riley grins as if he knows what I’m going to say next.
“A gold ship trophy?” I ask.
“Maybe.”
Jumping to my feet, I march past him. “Let’s go!”
We file into the theatre,cocktails in hand, when I spot Ben several rows ahead, waving at us to sit with him.
I wave back, albeit less enthusiastically. “Looks like Ben has saved us some seats.”
Riley gives him a curt nod, and Brittany turns in her seat next to Ben and smiles, the bruise on her eye barely camouflaged by the eyeshadow attempting to disguise it.
My stomach knots.
“We don’t have to sit there if you don’t want to,” Riley says when I don’t take the next step.
“No. It’s fine. I need to apologize to Brittany.”
“You already apologized.”
“I know, but I don’t think she took me seriously.”
“It wasn’t your fault, Riles. It was an accident.”
“Accident or not, she has a black eye, and that’s awful.”
He places his hand on the small of my back and gently encourages me forward, and I appreciate the support. And while Brittany and her friend appear to be using Ben for his wealth—which I certainly don’t agree with—my childish retaliation physically hurt her, and that doesn’t jive well with who I am at my core.
“Hi,” I say as we stop at the end of their row. “How’s your eye, Brittany?”
