The girls’ smiles faded. “Wait what?”
“Yep. I mean he didn’t tell me who he was, but I knew because you know, I’m not an idiot.”
August cleared his throat.
“Wait, so you pretended—like to yourself—that he was your ex?”
I smiled brightly at Beth and nodded. “Yep, cause I’mthatbat shit crazy and also have zero self-respect.”
Beth and Jill glanced at each other.
I shrugged, took a sip of my water, and slipped out of the chair.
August stared at me. “You’re making this up.”
“True story.”
“I don’t believe it,” he said with a straight face.
“What part don’t you believe?”
“I believe that you figured it out, but I don’t believe you pretended he was your ex because you’re not over him. I think you were waiting for the fool to finally tell you himself,” he paused. “And perhaps…you fell in love with him in the process.”
When I said nothing and just glared at him, he leaned in and added, “Tell me I’m wrong.”
Over the next three days, I fell into a little bit of a routine with regard to the time I spent at the tiki bar and August in general when he was outside of the bar. During his off hours, he’d lounge at the pool, play chess with some of the guests, he even joined one of my yoga sessions—watching him attempt the crow and the flamingo poses was probably the most fun I’d had in weeks.
I’d occasionally stop by the bar for a drink, which I started letting him pick for me. I’d come to hate it when other people were hanging around the bar, even if I never stayed for more than just a few minutes.
He was patient. He’d said nothing about us, as if he was just going along with whatever I needed. Like he just wanted to be near me.
“Why does this taste like mostly juice?” I frowned at my mojito while I sat at the bar during the evening deck party.
“Because it’s your third one today,” August pointed out, his brow arched.
“I didn’t realize there was a limit.”
“There isn’t really, but I doubt you’d let me walk you to your room, so I lowered the alcohol to about a drop.”
I nodded thoughtfully. “Thank you for looking out for me.” I placed the drink down and stood. It was the first time in days he broke and called after me, just once, but I ignored him and went back to my room feeling more confused than ever.
It wasn’t until he’d said it, that I realized I’d been gravitating toward him these past few days. I figured it was because he was the only familiar person on an island where I knew no one. But he also made me feel comfortable to be around him. Like I could tell him anything—as you would any bartender, really.
I got carried away.
I wouldn’t make that mistake again.
The next morning, I went back to the smoothie bar for the first time in a week. Then filled up my entire day with overly active activities. It was jazz night at the pool deck after dinner and I decided to go.
The crowd was smaller tonight, with a handful of couples hanging out on the deck and then wandering over to the boardwalk.
I ordered one drink at the tiki bar but didn’t talk to August as I sat there. Instead, I focused on something else.
I listened to my heart. I really gave it some thought. Keeping my mind—and my pride—out of it, I admitted I was still in love with him. My heart and body had a natural pull toward him, still trusting him, like they had a mind of their own. Like these two vital parts of me weren’t there when he crushed me to pieces.
Well…luckily my heart and body didn’t make decisions for me.
“You should go back to work tomorrow,” I told him, my eyes on the couple dancing on the deck to Frank Sinatra.
