He probably thought I was some weird cat lady or like an overly emotional clinger or something. But the truth was, having sex had just never felt right. While all my peers were busy humping anything they saw, I kept holding out hope for someone decent to go through that experience with.
Maybe that was naïve. Admittedly, I’d grown up a lot since then. I didn’t think losing my virginity was going to be some earth-shattering experience, or really any huge deal at all, but still. I wanted at least a decent guy for my first time.
I sighed and leaned back, closing my eyes and letting the slight rocking of the boat relax me. I tried not to think about what was going on between Lydie and Nate, but I couldn’t help myself. They were drinking and laughing, and I knew Lydie would practically grab his dick and never let it go until he fucked her if she got the chance.
I held out for an hour. For an entire hour, I left them alone and stewed in my own anger. I was pretty proud of that, because I really wanted to spy on them from the beginning.
But after that hour, I couldn’t take it anymore. I kept picturing Lydie’s fake laugh and the way she put her hand on a guy’s arm. I couldn’t imagine Nate would fall for that crap, but then again they were drinking and Lydie was practically offering to suck him off right then and there. I slowly got up and crept over toward where they were hanging out. I peeked over the edge.
They were still sitting in the same spot, and Lydie was laughing. She took a shot and Nate said something that got lost in the heavy wind.
“No way,” Lydie said. “I want to show you something.”
“Yeah? What’s that?”
“Come on.” She stood up a little unsteadily and took his hand. He stood up, a strange look on his face.
And then she led him down below deck.
I felt unreasonably angry as I stormed back over to my spot. But what could I do about any of it? I couldn’t run down there and stop it, because that’d be crazy, and I didn’t want to be Nate’s crazy, cockblocking stepsister. But I also didn’t want him to catch whatever herpes Lydie definitely had.
And I also wanted him all to myself. Which was crazy, because I definitely was never going to sleep with that macho asshole. Still, the idea of Lydie down there, wrapping her gross lips around his cock, made me pissed.
I stood up suddenly and walked fast down to the main deck. I made my way over to the bar and grabbed a bottle of tequila, pouring myself a shot.
I wasn’t much of a drinker, but maybe it would help. I tossed it back.
“Tough day?”
I looked up, surprised. “What are you doing here?”
Nate shrugged, coming up from below deck. “Your friend was wasted so I put her to bed.”
“Put her to bed?” I repeated stupidly.
“Yeah, as in I tossed her onto one of the beds and told her to sleep it the fuck off. She tried to pull my shorts off, but I told her I’d rather fuck a dead whale. I think she puked after that.”
I stared at him for half a second and then broke out laughing. That was pretty much the most incredible image I could possibly think up. Relief washed over me in a huge wave, and I suddenly felt bad for feeling like a total psycho.
“That can’t be true.”
“Total truth, princess.” He walked over and took the tequila bottle from me. “Drowning your sorrows?”
“I don’t have any sorrows.”
“You looked pretty pissed when she blabbed about your little secret.”
I clenched my jaw. “So we’re talking about this?”
He looked at me for a second and then grinned. “Have you ever been fishing?”
“Fishing? How did we get from my virginity to fishing?”
“Come here.” He took a swig right from the bottle and then walked over toward the back of the ship. I followed, curious. “Sit,” he said, pointing at a chair overlooking the ocean.
“I’m not a dog,” I muttered as I sat down.
He disappeared for a minute or two before reappearing with two large fishing rods and a tackle box.
“Are you serious?” I asked him.
“Used to do this in the Navy,” he said. “Spent some time on a destroyer, this enormous fucking boat. We’d fish off the back for hours. Granted, the people I fished with were way uglier than you, but it was still fun.”
“Uh, thanks, I guess.”
He went to work setting up the rods. When he finished, he handed me mine. “Know how to cast it?”
“Not really.”
He stood behind me and put his hands over mine. “Here, I’ll show you.”
He proceeded to move my hands and arms, showing me how to set and cast the rod. It was such a cliché from a bad romantic comedy, but I had to admit that I loved his warm, hard body pressed against mine. I felt my wetness return in spades, and that only made things way more confusing.