“Last day, lads,” he says as he sets the drinks down. “Sad to be leaving?”
“Absolutely. You guys don’t need an extra pair of hands at the bar, do you?” Trent jokes. Or at least I’m pretty sure he’s joking.
“You guys are welcome back anytime,” Oliver says with a broad grin before leaving us to go help Rupert at the bar.
I feel Trent’s bare foot rub against my ankle under the table and it fills me with an odd burst of nostalgia. The gesture’s become so casual, so habitual that it seems odd to think he only started doing it about a week ago. And odder still to think that he won’t do it once we get back home. If we’re ever seated across from each other eating a meal for some reason, our feet will be kept firmly to ourselves.
“I’ve been thinking about what should happen now,” Trent ventures as he spears some watermelon with a fork.
I shake myself out of my musings to glance up at him. “What do you mean?” I’m struck with an absurd burst of hope; is he about to suggest we continue this thing when we get home?
“Well, obviously things can’t be the same when we get back to Australia. Regular life is going to take over and this little bubble we’ve created here is going to pop…”
“Right…”
“But what if we came back to the bubble?” he suggests, eyebrows waggling suggestively.
My forehead creases in confusion. “What do you mean?” Surely he’s notactuallysuggesting we leave our lives behind and move here. That was just a joke. Right?
“Well, how about a year from now we come back here—just you and me—and we…you know…”
I quirk an eyebrow at him. “You’re trying to set up a week-long booty call a year from now in a foreign country?”
He shrugs. “I was thinking more like two weeks, but basically…yes.”
I consider the proposition for a long moment, taking a sip of my pineapple shake while I hesitate. “What if we meet people between now and then?” I can’t imagine that happening for me; the idea of moving on from Trent is a million times more daunting than my mission to move on from Jack at the start of this trip. But just because I can’t imagine falling for someone else doesn’t mean Trent won’t.
“Well, obviously we’d cancel,” he says simply. “Or they could come with us. A two week-long orgy sounds pretty fun.”
I let out a loud, hacking cough as I almost choke on my pineapple shake. “That, uh, definitely sounds…interesting,” I manage to sputter out.
“Come on, what do you say?” Trent presses. He leans forward, murmuring softly, “Just think about it—a whole year. That’ll give me plenty of time toget to know my prostate.”
I swallow hard, my mouth going completely dry at the thought of Trent continuing with the anal play stuff once we leave. I’m immediately hit with a wave of FOMO, because I donotwant him to be doing any of that on his own, or with another partner. I want to be the one helping him explore that area of sex.
I draw in a heavy breath, letting it out slowly. “Okay, fine. A year from now.”
Trent flashes his megawatt grin. “A year from now.”
I can already tell it’s going to be the longest year of my life.
23
Trent
I’m completely disorientated when I wake to the sound of screaming children and little feet pounding down the hallway. It takes me a long moment to remember where I am and why I’m alone in this bed: I’m back in Australia, in my sister’s spare bedroom, and my fling with Xavier is over.
“Boys! Quiet! Uncle Trent’s trying to sleep!” Alicia reprimands at a much higher volume than the noise my nephews had been making.
I let out a breath of wry laughter and roll onto my side, attempting to fall back asleep, but it’s impossible; my mind won’t stop whirring with thoughts of Xavier. We weren’t on the same flight coming home, so the last I saw of him was an epic, movie-worthy goodbye kiss just as I was being called to board my flight at Koh Samui airport. I draw in a deep breath as I let the memory play on a loop through my mind: Xavier’s warm lips firm against mine, his hands buried in my hair as I held him close to me. Jesus. When am I going to be kissed like that again?
The answer comes to me quickly, leaving me with a knot of uncertainty twisting in my gut. A year. I need to wait a whole year until I can experience that again. And that is, of course, if no one else snaps Xav up in the meantime. The uncertainty grows to dread at the mere thought of someone else touching him, kissing him, making love to him…those are all the thingsIshould be doing.
Finally giving up on the idea of sleep, I climb out of bed and tug on a pair of shorts and a t-shirt, figuring my sister probably won’t appreciate the sight of me strutting around her house in my jocks.
“Oh, sorry. I was trying to keep them quiet,” Alicia says with a sympathetic smile as enter the kitchen.
I wave her concern away. “It’s fine. Time to get up anyway.”