“But I get seasick. And I thought you hated boats.”
“I hate sailboats. And even if I didn’t, I’d make an exception forwhales.Come on!”
He gives me a kind smile. “Why don’t you go solo and take lots of pictures.”
“Youreallywon’t come?”
“Babe, I’ll puke on the whales.”
He returns to his book on self-actualization, or whatever.
I am speechless. What kind of man will not go on a whale-watching tour with his girlfriend?
A boring one.
Seb, I must finally admit to myself, is chronically boring.
I open my phone and pull up Seth’s number.
Molly:Do you like whales?
Seth:Um, yes, I’m not a monster.
Seth:Why?
Molly:Just conducting an informal poll
Seth:To locate the sociopaths among your acquaintances?
Molly:Yep. So far i’ve only found one
Seth:Is it you?
Molly:I actually just murdered a whale, so
Seth:Presumably an endangered one.
Molly:Yep. A baby
Seth:Always stay true to yourself.
Molly:I’m a woman of principle
Seth:That’s why I admire you.
I laugh out loud. Sebastian looks up from his book on astronumerology, or whatever. “What’s so funny?”
“Oh, just… nothing. Whales.”
He smiles at me indulgently. “You’re cute. Want to go back to the room?”
I glance longingly at my phone, but Seb’s already pulling me out of my chair.
The rest of the evening goes by predictably. We have sex in the shower. We eat sushi. (Sashimi for him, a twelve-course omakase for me, because it’s important tolive,even if your boyfriend is mortally afraid of carbs.) We go back to the room and have sex again.
I never thought one could grow so weary of fabulous sex.
I set my alarm and wake up early. Sebastian is gone—no doubt already at the gym. I grab a bacon torta at the breakfast cantina and head to the lobby to meet my tour group.
