A Royal Christmas Cruise (Stonewall Investigations Miami 2.50)

“Well…” My blood felt ten degrees too hot for my body. “I guess friends with benefits is a thing.”

“It sure is.”

Nick moved toward me, filling the needless space between us. His evergreen eyes drilled a hole straight down into my core. If he had said to forget friends, let’s be fake fiancés, in that moment, I’m pretty sure I would have agreed.

Footsteps sounded toward us, owned by someone merrily singing a holiday tune. The sudden sound made us both leap halfway into the air. We separated, my cheeks dotting with heat as I went over to the sink and ran the water, pretending to have been washing my hands the entire time. Nick did the same at my side. We were conveniently using the counter to hide our erections as we shot quick looks at each other, the both of us having trouble subduing our smiles.

“Hey, you two.” I looked in the mirror at a smiling Ace. I should have recognized his voice, seeing as he always took every chance he could to sing. And for good reason, too. He had American Idol written all over him. “Those Cinnabons really make your hands all sticky, don’t they?” He went to the open sink, grinning to the both of us through the mirror.

“I haven’t had one,” I said, turning the water off, confident that I wasn’t pitching a tent in my shorts anymore.

“Oh? I thought you got some glaze there.”

“Huh? Where?”

Nick watched this exchange. I leaned forward and Ace pointed at a spot on my neck, shiny with Nick’s saliva, red with his teeth marks. My eyes went wide. Ace shot me a mischievous look, his eyebrows twitching up as he darted a glance to Nick before turning to the stack of paper towels. “Wow, is it me or is it like twenty-five degrees hotter in here for some reason?”

All right, now Ace was starting to fuck with us. He grabbed some paper towel from the neatly placed stack and dried his hands without taking his eyes off us.

“I think something’s wrong with the heater,” I said, all three of us knowing damn well nothing was wrong with the temperature control on this ship.

“Right. Anyways! Rex and me are going to go grab some drinks at the bar next to the Elves’ Workshop. The rest of the group split up to recharge in their rooms for a bit. Want to come get drinks?”

“Actually,” Nick said, stretching. “I think I’m going to head up to my room. Maybe take a power nap.”

“Same.” I dried my hands, trying to avoid Ace’s eagle-like glare as I wiped quickly at my neck. “Going to my room,” I clarified, as if I needed to. “For a nap. By myself.”

“You guys are going to the ugly-sweater party tomorrow, right?” Nick asked, stopping my runaway train of word vomit in its tracks.

Ace nodded with the excitement of a widely grinning bobblehead stuck on the dashboard of a car with terrible suspension. “Definitely. I’ve got one of the gnarliest sweaters ever known to mankind. It’s really ugly. I can’t wait.”

“Can’t wait to see it.” We walked out of the bathroom. Ace threw an arm over my shoulders. He had meteor-sized blue eyes that made him look all the more innocent.

“I’m glad the gang’s back together again. Just wish we weren’t missing Mason.”

“Me too,” I said, giving a silent “thank you, baby Jesus” that Mason wasn’t here.

Ace left to go get his drinks, and I walked with Nick to the elevators. On the way there, I could tell Nick was thinking about something. His blue eyes seemed to swirl with questions.

“What’s up?” I asked as we started to reach the elevator bay.

“I’m just wondering how someone could have let you go.”

That caught me by surprise. “Oh, well… yeah. I wonder the same thing,” I said with a self-deprecating laugh. “But whatever. Shit happens.”

“What kind of shit happened? If you don’t mind me asking.”

“No, no. That’s fine. I guess if we’re going to be fake friends, you should know about my real breakup. His name’s Mason. He wasn’t the greatest, even though I thought he was. I felt like I loved him, but looking back… I don’t know. I don’t know if what I felt was love.” I dropped my head, feeling a heavy weight land on my chest. “It sucks. Basically all he ever did was eat potato chips, watch old movies, and sometimes ask for sex. But I became so used to it, I don’t know, I thought it was fine. I felt settled into it. Especially since we had started off as good friends, and I had known him for a couple of years before we started dating. I thought it would be fine, maybe things would click into place. And then, about a month ago, he ends up breaking up with me. He joined some crazy Rolling Stones cult. Don’t ask. But even then, right before the cult thing, I fully envisioned a future together with him. Sure, it was a shitty future, but it was still a future. And then he dipped.” I shook my head and straightened my shoulders. “I don’t know. Honestly, it makes me wonder… if I can’t keep that loser around, then maybe something’s wrong with me. Maybe I don’t deserve anyone better, if I can’t keep them around… I don’t know. I’m blabbing.”