I didn’t understand him, and more frustrating, I didn’t understand me when he was near.
He was scrambling me like a frying pan of eggs, and the more I tried to figure out why, the more lost I felt.
I found a café with free Wi-Fi on my way back to the boat, messaging my sister to update her on my travels. She sent a full page of emojis when I told her I was on Theo’s boat for the summer instead of traipsing around on my own, and when I asked how volleyball was going, for the first time in my life, she answered with a short it’s great before demanding that I tell her everything I knew about Theo Whitman.
I laughed, thumbing through my memory card until I found a picture of drunk Audrey and Nicolette hanging all over him from the other night. I snapped a picture of the camera display and sent it to Juniper, who answered with a long line of exclamation points.
I knew he was a dirty little playboy!
Ask him if he wants a new sugar baby.
I rolled my eyes on a laugh at that, and then with a promise to check in again soon, I shoved my phone away and walked the rest of the way to the dock.
I thought about it, though, as I walked, how Juniper would fit nicely with Theo. She was just as gorgeous as he was, and charming, and smart. She’d match him wit for wit. She’d be able to play games with girls like Nicolette and Audrey, and I knew with utmost certainty she’d beat them, too.
I frowned at the thought, shaking it away and letting my mind wander elsewhere the rest of the walk back.
I didn’t know if Theo was already back on the yacht when I crossed the ramp to the main deck. If he was, he was nowhere to be found, and so I decided to turn in for the night and thank him again the next time I did see him. The photos I’d captured were strong ones. I knew without even looking. I’d felt it when I snapped them.
I could hear the crew downstairs when I got back to the cabin, likely eating their late dinner or perhaps partying already since Theo was off the boat. Either way, I ignored the note on the bed from Joel saying I could join them when I got back, and instead, gave in to my exhaustion, peeling my clothes off and flopping down face first on the bed.
I was asleep before I could even make it under the covers, but I felt Joel when he came in later that night, covering me up before he slipped under the sheets, too. He kissed my neck, slow and tender at first, but then harder, his pelvis rolling against my ass, hands groping my breasts under my shirt.
He smelled like booze, like a mix of tequila and gin, and the sloppy way he kissed me told me he’d had more than just a drink. Normally, it wouldn’t bother me. But for some reason, this time, it soured my gut. The more aggressively he kissed, the more my heart raced in my chest as I struggled to keep my breathing even, my body limp.
I could have just opened my eyes, turned in his arms, and met his eager kisses with those of my own. I could have kissed down his navel, taken him in my mouth and done just what I know he likes until he came. I could have slid my panties to the side and let him inside me. I could have done anything at all.
Instead, I kept my eyes shut, my limbs heavy, completely unresponsive.
I pretended to be asleep until Joel gave up and rolled away, his soft snores filling our cabin moments later.
And I couldn’t figure out why, in the quiet darkness of the bed I shared with my boyfriend who I’d just denied, I was thinking about what it would be like to be touched by Theo Whitman.
Never in my life did I imagine I would find a “normal” routine on a multi-million-dollar yacht.
Back home, in Boulder, routine was everything for me. I ate the same thing for breakfast, read for about thirty minutes, did a quick high-intensity interval training workout to get my heart and body awake and going, and then I went to my first class. I’d spend the time between classes either taking photos around campus or town, in the mountains, perhaps taking a day trip to get away. My evenings were filled with editing photos, reading, or spending time with Joel. And though there were differences each day, I had a routine that kept me stable and steady, that brought me comfort.
It was part of what I’d been missing, what had been making me uneasy since Joel and I left the States.
But now, there I was, waking up in new waters or docked at a new port every morning, eating the same thing for breakfast, reading for a bit before I did my workout, and then busying myself throughout the day by either taking photographs for Theo or helping Emma and the other stewardesses. I found I didn’t mind it, even taking photographs for Theo had become easier now that I knew what to expect.
Plus, none of the other guests on the boat were as bad as Audrey and Nicolette — at least, not yet.
I was exhausted by the time the sun set each night, though — eyes red and dry as I edited photos and worked on my portfolio. When Joel came into the cabin, it was usually only long enough to shower and change before he was dipping out for his night watch, or dragging me
