“Too easy. He’s already down to mere seconds to live now.” We chuckle at first, then burst out in a horse laugh when one girl splashes water directly in Hunter’s face. “Oh, shot down. He just doesn’t have the touch.”
“No, he doesn’t. Bet he’ll be touching himself again tonight, though.”
We raise our beers in the air and cheer Hunter on from the sidelines. He responds by raising the middle fingers on both hands, which only makes us laugh harder. He retakes his seat, still soaking wet from the encounter, and scoffs loudly. “The only explanation is Jace paid those girls. They had to be hired by the hour.”
“Give it a rest, Hunter. We have plenty of time left on the island to trump Jace. I’m more worried about Kevin. He’s the one who insisted on coming to this singles resort, but he hasn’t even attempted to hook up with anyone yet. What gives, man?”
“Nothing gives. All three of you are missing the point of this place. I’m not here to have one giant fuckfest.”
“So, there is one. Is the location printed on the brochure somewhere?” Hunter tips his bottle back but can’t hide his smile.
“Every one of you complains about how you can’t find a decent girl to date for any length of time. This one wants your money. That one wants to marry the first guy who asks her out. Another one has baggage you don’t want to be saddled with for life. You have a chance to meet someone here, but you’re looking for the resort’s orgy room instead.” Kevin leans his head back against the lounge chair and closes his eyes.
“Working on your tan? You are a little pale,” I quip.
“Fuck off, Rod. You’re just jealous because you didn’t work on your tan before our flight left, so you’re basically Casper the pale white ghost out here. On the other hand, I can simply lie here in my natural olive-skinned awesomeness and attract the ladies who venture out of their basements and into the sunlight.” He doesn’t bother to open his eyes when he answers.
“That was a good burn, man.” Hunter high-fives Kevin and they chuckle at my expense.
“Excuse me. I don’t mean to interrupt, but I wondered if you could help me open this bottle. My hands are so slick with suntan oil.” The brunette with the volleyball ass finally worked up the nerve to approach.
“Here, let me help you with that.” Hunter is at her side in half a second. He slides his hand along hers before taking the bottle and twisting the top off with ease.
“Thank you. My hands are just so slippery from rubbing oil all over my skin.” She giggles for additional emphasis.
“I think you missed a spot. Better let me fix that for you so you don’t burn. The sun is very strong today.”
“Are you sure you don’t mind?” She bats her eyelashes at him. I thought that only happened in a cheesy romance novel.
“Not at all. What’s your name, beautiful?” Hunter places his hand on her lower back and steers her away from my chair. They walk in the general direction where I saw her earlier, but they veer off course at the last second, disappearing inside the resort.
“She came over here fishing for you. Why didn’t you bite?” Kevin’s eyebrows nearly touch his hairline.
“Eh, she’s not what I’m fishing for today. I’d have to throw her back.”
He pulls his shades down to show me his bullshit detected glare. “Yeah? A few minutes ago, you were ready to eat her alive.”
“One, her approach was lame. Two, she hadn’t even tried to open that bottle. If it was slick with oil, Hunter would’ve wiped it off first. Three, I can find her type all over Atlanta. I don’t need a tropical island to score an easy lay. I’m not looking for Mrs. Rod Stone, but meeting someone who’s the complete opposite from all the others would be nice for a change.”
“Don’t wait too long to find Mrs. Right. You’re not exactly a spring chicken anymore.”
“What the hell, man? I’m only thirty-five.”
“Exactly. The average life expectancy for American males is seventy-two. You’re basically middle-aged right now. You’ve already passed your prime, my friend. It’s all downhill from here.”
“That’s depressing as hell. What the fuck, man?”
“Someone has to be straight with you. Find someone you’d want to settle down with soon, or you’ll soon have to settle for whoever you can get.”
“You’re one to talk. We’re the same age and you’re still single too. Where did this all this shit come from, anyway? This doesn’t sound like you at all.”
He shrugs one shoulder. “My parents just celebrated their anniversary and something my dad said really made me think. He and Mom married young, and they struggled for a long time. Their friends said they were crazy, they’d end up divorced before they were twenty-one, and they were ruining their lives.
“He attributes a lot of their early troubles to being young and stupid, letting those words create a self-fulling prophecy. Then he almost lost Mom, and that woke him up. He realized she was never his ball-and-chain, weighing him down. She lifted him up. His life wasn’t ruined because of his love for her—it was made complete. He didn’t regret one day he spent with her. He wished they’d never had a day apart.
“I’ve realized I want what my parents have. The single life doesn’t appeal to me anymore, but finding someone I can share my life with does. That’s why I’m not interested in a one-night stand with a different girl every night anymore.”
“Hmm … and you think you’ll find the love of your life, the woman of your dreams, here? Among all the drunken misfit Barbie wannabes?”
“That’s just the thing, Rod. You never know who you’ll meet or where you’ll meet her.” He turns toward me and a slow smile crawls across his face. The one that’s usually reserved for complete and utter mischief. It seems out of place
