Chapter Nine

Arthur

He had kids. I couldn't believe he fucking had kids. I made a face as I guzzled the glass of vodka down all at once. He had a woman too by the looks of it. Although it didn't bother me that he was bisexual, I was jealous as hell of the woman he had been with. I pictured her as I had seen them on the pool deck earlier this afternoon. Strawberry blond with a smile that lit up her face. While I was strictly into guys, I could appreciate that she was pretty. The way Bailey smiled at her took my jealousy to another level. He loved her, and I wanted him to look at me the same way. Little good that would do me now.

I signaled the bartender to bring me another drink, which he did quickly. I liked that about our cruise line. The staff was usually efficient at what they do, leaving a solid impression on people. I read the reviews on Yelp and Trip Advisor, and my impression, as well as the revenue brought in, showed people enjoyed our cruise line.

Frowning into the bottom of my glass, I wondered if I should have given Bailey the opportunity to explain. Both times I had confronted him, he had said he could explain, but was an explanation necessary? It was obvious what was going on. He had a girlfriend or maybe a wife and two kids. Was that a ring I had seen on her fourth finger? How could he be in a committed relationship and still have sex with me? I felt bad for the woman. He had played both of us good.

Maybe he was in an open relationship. I scowled at the thought that popped up inside my head. As much as that was possible these days, I didn't take the thought for anything more than what it was. My desperate attempt to justify what Bailey had done, because even knowing he was a scumbag, I still wanted to take him to bed. Even if he had an open relationship, I couldn't pretend that exclusivity wasn't important to me, especially after the way I had been burned in the past. I needed to know that my guy was mine alone. I didn't share. Period. But Bailey made a man want to change his mind.

“Is something wrong with your drink, sir?” the bartender asked, stopping before me.

“I beg your pardon?” I frowned at the friendly face of the bartender. He was a black guy with a thick Caribbean accent. I guessed him to be close to thirty. He had slender shoulders and a smile that indicated his interest. I perked up. Maybe the distraction was exactly what I needed tonight.

“You've been scowling into your drink,” he replied, his smile shifting to a smirk as though he saw my interest.

“Have I?” I asked, returning his smile. “The drink’s perfect.”

Another patron at the bar needed his attention so he pushed off the bar to go. “Stick around?”

“We’ll see.” I wanted to stay to stroke my bruised ego, and he looked like he wanted a good time. It wasn't that easy finding guys who were into bears. Maybe that was the reason I had always ended up with some good-for-nothing low-lives. I settled for whoever showed interest, never minding some of them had interests in my wallet and not me as a person.

Which one was Bailey? What had motivated him that day he had allowed me to take liberties with him? I couldn’t decide if he genuinely wanted me, or if he had been showing me gratitude for the cruise tickets. When his back had been to me, had he been thinking of someone else inside of him?

Feeling disgusted with my thoughts, I rose to my feet. The bartender glanced at me with a pout when he saw I was leaving. I tipped my glass to him before draining it and placing it on the counter. I no longer cared to entertain him. Thoughts of Bailey had me feeling fucked up. I could feel my confidence waning a bit, reminding me that I wasn’t necessarily the first guy who would snag the attention of other men when I walked into the room. I rarely felt this way. I was quite comfortable in my body, but Bailey had come and scratched off scabs I thought long healed.

I shuffled from the lounge just off the restaurant where I had entered for a nightcap after dinner. I avoided a group of men who walked into the lounge bringing a lot of laughter with them. Fuck, was I the only one on this cruise who hadn’t taken someone else? I had thought Bailey and I could hook up while here. I scowled, hating the fact that I was able to walk straight. It meant I wasn’t nearly drunk enough. I wasn’t drunk at all, but I had no desire to keep drinking either, which was rare for me. The truth was that I probably enjoyed the bottle a little more than was recommended.

I walked through the restaurant, heading for the doors when a deep male chuckle reached me. I paused, the sound reminding me of Bailey when I had asked him if he had any idea what he was doing to my sink. I tried to walk away, but instead found myself scanning the restaurant. Why did I keep bumping into him even when I had tried to stay out of his way? My heart clenched when I saw him seated at a table with the same woman he had been with earlier. He was holding a fork to her lips while laughing. The woman was trying to back away from whatever he was trying to get her to eat, and the two kids with them were giggling right along.

I almost felt as if I was suffocating. The domestic scene played on my emotions, reminding me of my parents and how I had never seen them this way before. They had both been aloof people more interested in earning wealth than anything else. And they had passed that on to me. Two failed marriages, no kids, a ton of money, and I had no one to pass it on to.

As if he felt eyes on him, Bailey glanced up at the same time his girlfriend or wife…whatever the hell she was to him— leaned forward and wrapped her lips around his fork. Even with the fork now empty, he held it in the same position as he stared right at me. He was several feet away from me, but it didn’t stop my body from reacting to the sight of him. I still desired him while he was enjoying his time with his family.

Glancing away, I turned to leave, but ended up colliding into a waiter bringing a tray of drinks. The glasses overturned as the tray he carried smashed into my chest. I gasped at the coldness seeping through the front of my shirt. And all the time, I could only think that Bailey had seen this mess and probably thought I’d lost my cool because of him.

My Christmas cheer and goodwill to all men vibe dead, I didn’t even bother to extend an apology to the waiter. I stepped around him, my loafers squishing on the wet floor as I stormed out of the restaurant. An idea began to form in my mind. At the first port where we stopped, I would get off and fly back home. That would be better than torturing myself like this on a ship where I could run into Bailey at any minute.

“Arthur!”

Like now. I ignored his call, and continued to the elevator, jamming my finger on the button to my floor. The damn thing took forever to get there, and by the time it opened, and I stepped in, Bailey dove inside with me.

“Arthur, I—”

“Don’t!” I said sharply, cutting him off. I dragged my eyes away from him and stared out at the people milling about the different decks.

“But I’ve—”

“Not here, Bailey.” I glanced at him and good heavens, why did he have to look so sweet when I knew the treachery in his heart? I wondered what excuse he had given his woman for her to allow him to run out on them like this? Or did she know what her man did to give her the lifestyle of sailing away on cruises?

He sighed and leaned against the opposite wall of the elevator, his hands digging into the front of his jeans. His gaze lowered to the floor as if he didn’t know what to say to me after I’d shut him up twice.

The ride in the elevator was too damn short, and before I was ready, the doors opened on my floor. He walked out after me and we parted to the sides so the people waiting to use the elevator could get in. I started off for my suite, but his hand grasping my wrist stopped me.

“Arthur, I just want to talk.”

I glanced back at him, seeing the earnest look in his eyes. His hand trembled a little as we both glanced down at where he touched me. Heat radiated between us, and I returned my eyes to his face. So the chemistry at least was real. He wasn’t faking that. Just everything else.

With a deft flick of my hand, I reversed our hold so I was now the one grasping him. I set off for my suite while he trotted after me like a little naughty kid who knew he had done something wrong. By the time I got to my suite, I was breathing hard. Not because of the effort to drag him along with me, but because of my restraint in not pushing him up against somebody’s cabin door and testing out my theory that he was really into me.

“I can’t stay, Arthur,” he said, his tone fretful as I released his hand when we got to the door to my suite. I removed my card from my pocket and swiped, pushing the door open.

Ignoring his question, I asked him, “Are you coming in or going back to your family?”