“All right, enough of the girl talk. You’re in danger of losing your man card. If you start talking about waxing body parts, I’m out of here.”
“That’s all right. You’ll grow up one day, whether or not you like it.”
He’s not wrong about his parents. Their marriage is the stuff movies are made of and others can only hope to have one day, if they’re lucky. If they win the spouse lottery. If they’re in the right place, at the right time, and have the right set of circumstances to meet the perfect person.
I’ve never found luck to be on my side.
Everything I have comes from my blood, sweat, tears, and long nights of hard work to make it happen. Nothing was freely given to me. I scraped and fought for every inch I’ve gained in life. The notion of randomly happening upon the perfect mate, one who could make me want to be monogamous, is about as real to me as a fairy tale. The problem is, those tall tales are the exact ones that automatically set up relationships for failure because that level of perfection is impossible to achieve.
It’s a recipe for instant disappointment and certain heartbreak.
Been there, done that, and I bought the T-shirt as a permanent reminder I’ll never be that vulnerable or that pathetic again.
CHAPTER THREE
Daisy
“I feel so guilty about taking this trip. Maybe I should cancel and stay home instead. You can get someone else to go with you.” I glance around my new house and take in the unpacked boxes and general mess from my recent move.
“Maybe you should take the ten-day vacation we’ve looked forward to for months and enjoy yourself for once. Let your hair down and have some fun. Meet some hot guy and let him do all those things you read about in your steamy romance books. Make sure he’s a billionaire badass biker with a secret big heart who’s looking for everlasting love, though.” I can always count on my best friend, Tracy, for stellar life advice.
“Look at this place, Tracy. I’m nowhere near finished unpacking, and I start a new job soon after I get back. If I go, I won’t have enough time to finish unpacking and get caught up on the past and future lesson plans for my class. The timing is just off. Maybe next year will be better.”
“Nope. Next year you’ll have an entirely different set of excuses to avoid going. A new reason to avoid facing the real reason you’re hiding. You’re avoiding your own life, Daisy. How do you ever expect to find happiness when you hide from the very things you say you want?” Tracy pins me with that no-nonsense stare of hers that makes me squirm.
She knows she’s right.
She knows I know she’s right.
There’s no getting around it.
“Fine. You win, I’ll go. I just won’t get any sleep after we get back and before I start my job. Happy now?”
“Not entirely, but that’s better. Don’t plan on getting much sleep during the trip, either. We have ten days in the Caribbean—sun, sand, surf, hot guys, bad decisions, and an unlimited drink package. Don’t you even think about wimping out on me, Daisy Nash.”
“You’re going to be this bossy during the entire trip, aren’t you?”
She cuts her eyes at me with her brows drawn down and a bewildered expression on her face. “Of course. That’s why we’re going together, so I can be your voice of reason.”
That makes me laugh out loud. “If you’re the voice of reason in this relationship, we are in deep shit on this trip.”
“Don’t be a spoilsport. You’ve already given all the emergency contact information to your sister. Your parents probably even have the resort manager’s name. You’re hitting the best beaches, in the most luxurious resort, with the hottest guys, and the best friend slash partner in crime you’ve ever had. We will have the time of our lives together. Trust me.”
“You know I trust you with my life. That’s not even a question.”
“You just don’t trust my judgment regarding your hoo-ha. You’re not fooling me.” She hits the button on the blender, mixes our pre-flight piña coladas, and passes a glass to me. “To our trip. We leave tomorrow, so you’d better get busy finding your itty-bitty-polka-dot-bikini in all this mess, or you’ll be the talk of the resort in no time.”
With my drink in hand, I sip the frozen concoction through the straw while I find the box with my summer clothes in it. Before Tracy leaves my new place, we pack my suitcase, make sure my passport is in my purse, and finish off the bottle of Captain Morgan, so he’s not left here alone while we’re vacationing in the Caribbean. I’m not sure what I’ll find in my suitcase tomorrow when we board the plane, but I’m feeling too good to worry about it in the least tonight.
“Why did I let you talk me into drinking so much last night?” I glance over my shoulder at Tracy as we stand in line for security.
Here I am, hanging on to an ounce of energy by a single thread, and she’s perfectly put together as if she didn’t stay up all night with me. It’s not fair, really, and should be against the girl code. If I look and feel like shit, the best friend solidarity rule should apply and be strictly enforced. Sensing my glare, she has the nerve to flash her bright-eyed and bushy-tailed smile at me. The laugh isn’t there, but it’s definitely implied.
“You needed all the rum last night to loosen your sphincter muscle so you can breathe a little.”
“One has nothing to do with the other. I don’t know what science class you took or how your mother explained anything to you, but your sphincter muscle doesn’t help you breathe. At all. That’s your diaphragm.”
“That’s exactly what I mean. You’re too damn anal to just relax and breathe. Let
