Below Deck

My good mood lasted until last night at dinner when I waited for Declan to show up. He had to bartend again, which meant he couldn’t avoid me. A few minutes before our first course arrived, Ben came rushing out onto the deck, apologizing for being late, explaining that Declan had other things to do tonight and he’d be taking over as bartender. For a second, I thought maybe this was Ben’s way to hang around Brooke again, but when he looked over at me and gave me a sheepish smile and an apologetic shrug, I knew Declan must have said something to him and this had everything to do with me.

I went to bed early in a bad mood, tossing and turning until the sun came up this morning.

To add to my exhaustion and overall irritability today, I got a phone call from one of my father’s attorney’s telling me it was imperative that I check my email as soon as possible and reply back to him immediately. I’ve been walking all over this damn ship trying to get a Wi-Fi signal and nothing is working.

With my head down as I hold my laptop in one hand and bang on the keys with another, I make my way off the sundeck and inside to the main salon. Setting my computer down on the bar top in the corner, I check the Wi-Fi signal again and curse under my breath when it’s still not available.

“Having troubles?”

Even though I’m pissed at him right now, the sound of Declan’s low, gravelly voice behind me still makes my skin tingle and reminds me of all the wonderful and dirty things he said in my ear the other night.

“Yes. The stupid Wi-Fi on this boat isn’t working and I have something important I need to check,” I reply, not bothering to turn around as I continue to smack they keys in annoyance.

“Something important to check on vacation? What, like a really fabulous shoe sale?”

The sarcasm and outright loathing in his voice shocks me completely speechless. Gone is the man who whispered hot words of need and want in my ear, who touched me like he’d been doing it for years and knew exactly what to do to bring me the most pleasure. The back of my eyes prickle with tears and I curse myself a thousand different ways for letting some guy I just met get under my skin like this.

“Don’t worry, princess, the shoes will still be there in a few days. I’m sure you’ll manage.”

The meanness in his voice that I’ve done nothing to deserve, quickly dries up my unshed tears and makes me stand up a little taller as I slowly turn around and face him.

I hate that he looks so good in his navy blue polo and shorts. I hate that I know exactly what his mouth tastes like, the one that just spoke to me in such a shitty way. I hate that I’m letting a stupid vacation fling, which hasn’t even really turned into a fling, drive me so crazy that I want to scream. I hate that he’s standing here in front of me, staring at me with a condescending smirk on his face when I can’t stop thinking about how good he looks. I’ll be damned if I sit here and take it.

“Sure. Because that’s all I do. Sit around and spend money, right?” I ask in a chipper, sarcastic voice, watching the smirk quickly die on his face. “I couldn’t possibly have a brain in my head or actual important things to handle that could affect my family’s entire life, could I? I just sit on my ass, ordering people around, and spending my father’s money just like the two raging bitches outside, right? That’s what you see when you look at me, right? RIGHT?”

I’m shouting now and I know it’s only a matter of time before someone hears us and comes running in here, but I don’t give a shit. I’m tired of people looking at me seeing what they want to see instead of what’s really there. I’m tired of letting people walk over me and never having a voice. Fuck them and fuck him.

“Damn, you got me there. It’s amazing how well you know me after only FIVE FUCKING DAYS!” I finish.

Declan winces and at least has the nerve to look properly chastised and a little bit ashamed. Or maybe he’s just shocked by my outburst. Either way, when he opens his mouth, I quickly cut him off, holding up my hand to silence him before I turn around and slam the lid to my laptop closed. I scoop it up in my arms and turn back to face him, stalking across the room and right past him, his mouth still opening and closing like he’s trying to come up with something to say.

“Save it,” I mutter when I hear him whisper my name. “One orgasm isn’t worth having to listen to whatever bullshit is about to come out of your mouth.”

He doesn’t try to say anything after that and lets me walk out of the main salon with my head held high, even though I want to curl up in a ball and cry.

By the time I make it to my room and slam the door closed behind me, I flop down on my bed and open up my laptop to see I finally have a signal. I quickly open up my email and scroll through all the ones I’ve missed in the last few days until I get to the most recent one.

Opening it up, I quickly scan through the document and my heart drops to my toes. I wanted to be right so badly. I wanted to have proof in my hands that I could take to my father, and here it is, in black and white. I have the proof I needed, but nothing about this makes me feel good. Knowing what I have to do and what I have to say to my father makes a knot form in my stomach I feel will never go away. The pain in my stomach grows tenfold when I can’t stop picturing the look on Declan’s face a little bit ago or the way he spoke to me.

Shoving the laptop across the bed, I scoot up to the pillows, lie down on my side and hug my knees to my chest, wanting nothing more than to forget about what I just saw. It’s all too much right now and I can’t take it anymore. Six months has led up to this moment right here. Six months of barely eating, barely sleeping, working all hours of the night, and not having a life have finally come to a head. I’m about to ruin my father’s life, and yet I can’t stop thinking about Declan McGillis, and why it hurts so much that he can’t see past my family’s money to the person I really am.