Page 12 of Wallflower

Away from the loud party happening inside, we converse under the stars, downing a bottle of cabernet Brad swiped from the bar.

“So, where do you call home when you’re not on the ship?”

His face falls, though only slightly, before replying. “There’s no point in having a solid home when this is my lifestyle. Depending on the turn-around, Brad and I usually bunk together at a hotel or get a short-term lease wherever we end up until the next cruise departs.”

His lifestyle sounds dreamy. Never being tied down, going wherever the waves take you, literally. What more could I want?

The aurora borealis lights up the night sky. Sam’s words fade away as we are swept up in awe by a geomagnetic event so rare in these parts it’s usually accompanied by a cataclysmic storm. But the waters are calm, the breeze warm and gentle, no trace of a capsizing wave in sight.

I can’t help but feel the threads of fate being woven together in that moment. A once in a lifetime experience with someone as incredible as Sam, who I found out is from the big city just outside the suburban area where I grew up. Despite all my reservations about this trip, I’m supposed to be here. I know it in my gut.

A sudden piercing stab shoots through my skull, throbbing behind my eyes as the threat of an ocular migraine looms large. The halo of light hangs in my periphery, and there’s a ringing in my ears so loud it drowns out the sound of Sam’s mesmerized voice, as well as any others.

Looking back to me, he starts to recount his early years. I can’t focus through the painful haze. Passing the bottle of wine back to him, I nod along as though I’m absorbing his story, fighting through the agony to listen.

I ache with the desire to press the heels of my hands into my temples, squeezing to diminish the throbbing for just a momentof reprieve. Maybe press my fingers into my eyes to temper the pulsing behind them.

As suddenly as it came on, it disappears. The headache’s thumping diminishes in intensity with each pump of my heart until there’s nothing left but slight exhaustion.

As I slowly focus back in, Sam's speaking of being an only child. I feel like shit that I missed the brief part leading up to this, hopefully I didn’t miss anything important.

He tells me his parents are long deceased, which is what drove him to life on the ocean, and my heart aches for him—for the young boy he used to be who lost his family too soon. After a somewhat troubled adolescence, he needed to get away, and the job here called to him.

It could probably be perceived as very stalker-esque of me to want to look into this line of employment, but the way he talks about it sparks a longing in my chest. To be free, untethered, living in paradise. Sam makes it sound like a dream come true.

I make a promise to myself in that moment—when I get back on the mainland, I’ll look into all a life like this entails. There’s more than one cruise liner to work on, I don’t have to be on the same one as Sam. Though…if this passion doesn’t fizzle out, I won’t want to be anywhere else.

“You’re a filthy fucking cheater, blondie,” Sam grumbles, shuddering as I sneak my fingers up the back of his shirt while he tries to line up his shot. He pulls the cue back, readying to sink the eight ball in the side pocket. His arm jerks forward as I drag my nails down his back, sending the shot off the side of the white ball, missing the game-ending shot completely.

Chelsea jumps for joy, making a spectacle of winning, and Brad whoops with her. “I can’t believe you lost to a girl, man,” he taunts as Sam spins, setting his ocean eyes on me.

“I wouldn’t have if they didn’t play dirty,” Sam calls back. But Brad’s already lip-locked with Chelsea, oblivious to the response.

The hunger on Sam’s face makes my toes curl and cheeks flush. “You’re supposed to be on my team,” he growls, the sound running across my skin.

“It’s not my fault you lack the ability to focus.”

“Maybe you need to be taught a lesson.”

I shiver at his words as he advances on me. Step for step, I retreat, and he backs me into the foosball table, the protruding rods hitting me in the back.

A nervous laugh bubbles up my throat as he closes me in, hands fisting the handles on either side of me. “What kind of lesson?” I inquire shakily, despite the need thumping through me like fire.

“I haven’t decided,” he teases, fingers moving to drag up the sides of my thighs as his lips meet the sensitive skin of my neck.

Things are getting too intense to be in the same room as my sister. Leaning to the side, I see much more than I ever expected. Brad’s got her spread on the pool table, dress pushed up to her waist as his head moves between her open legs. “Holy fuck,” I choke out. Sam’s head turns back, abandoning the trail of light kisses he was leaving across my clavicle to observe the scene.

His fingers travel across my hot skin, hooking into the band of my panties. “Embarrassed?” he whispers, turning back to me. I shake my head slowly, watching as Brad emerges, dark chocolate eyes locking with mine as he says something quietly to my sister. Her head falls back, watching me upside down with a big fucking smile on her face. Clearly she’s not as weirded out by the turn of events as I am. Brad plunges his fingers into her, and she cries out in ecstasy. Her body jerks as he drives into her, shaved head disappearing back down between her thighs as Chelsea moans.

“Jealous?” Sam breathes against the shell of my ear. I gulp, nodding slightly. “But you’ve been so naughty.”

My eyes leave the spectacle across the room, focusing back on Sam. “Please…” I breathe.

“Begging won’t work on me this time, I can still feel the burn of your nails on my skin.” Slowly, he pushes my panties down my thighs, watching hungrily as they hit my ankles and I step out of them.

“I didn’t scratch you that hard,” I retort with a bit of bite. I just need him on me, in me, filling me. The wait is excruciating.

Sam’s right arm bands around my middle, clenching me tight, as his left hand slithers behind me. His lips catch mine in an abrupt kiss, distracting me from the world around us. Sam pulls me against him, hard and unrelenting, as something pushes between my legs from the back.