I look over my shoulder to see Wilson just outside the bungalow.
Chewing on something.
Oh my god.
He’s chewing on my vibrator.
Shit!
“Hey!” I yell, putting my coffee down and scrambling to my feet, kicking up sand as I go.
I start running after Wilson, who then thinks it’s a game of sorts, and starts running around the bungalow in circles, the vibrator flopping in his mouth.
Everyone is falling over themselves, laughing, but I’m determined to get that thing back. It was expensive as hell and when you find a good one, you hang onto it.
“Daisy!” Tai yells, voice breaking up as he laughs. “Daisy, you don’t need it that badly. Let it go!”
I mean, he’s right. I have Tai.
For now.
And I have better standards than using a vibrator that a goat chewed on.
I stop, catching my breath, and Wilson joyfully runs off into the jungle, bleating in victory.
“Enjoy it, you pervert!” I yell after him.
Then I return to the beach, knowing how much I’m going red. Tomato Zone Four, maybe.
“Why Daisy, I’m not sure where your face ends and your hair begins,” Tai jokes.
“Yes, you’re very red,” Richard explains bluntly, as if I didn’t get it.
“I have to say, I didn’t think Wilson had it in him,” Fred muses. “Usually such a polite goat.”
“Uh huh,” I say, sitting back down and covering my face with my mug. There’s no such thing as a polite goat.
The rest of the morning passes at a slow pace. Oh, the goat and vibrator jokes keep coming from all directions (that’s what she said?), but everyone is taking it easy, and seeming to be in good spirits, despite the excess spirit of last night.
I’m sitting in the sand, reading a book about a mafia princess. Lacey is beside me, scribbling something on a notepad. Tai and Richard are at Tai’s fishing spot, hoping to get lunch. Fred has gone back to his camp to get some more sardines for bait.
Wilson is still MIA.
Hope he didn’t choke on it.
“What are you writing?” I ask Lacey.
She sighs and puts her pen down. “Why?”
“Jeez, testy, testy. Just curious. Can’t a sister be curious?”
“If you must know, I’m documenting our peril.”
“Peril?” I repeat. I gesture to the paradise around us. “How is this peril?”
She frowns. “You know Daisy, sometimes I think you live in a different reality.”
My hackles raise. Here we go again with the whole ‘coasting by’ thing. “I don’t live in another reality. I’m trying to make the best of it.”
“Make the best of it, huh? We all know what that means.”
My brows shoot up. “What does that mean, then?”
“No wonder you don’t mind being stranded in the middle of the Pacific when you’ve got Tai to fuck whenever you want.”
“What!?” I exclaim. “What makes you think that?”
Oh god.
“Oh, come on,” she says. “We all know it.”
“All of you?”
“Yes, Fred told us.”
“What?”
“Well, the goat told him.”
The goat?
“Wilson,” I seethe, as if he’s Newman on Seinfeld.
“It’s so obvious you wanted him from the start. Guess he finally gave in.”
“Okay, fine. Fine.” I raise my palms in surrender. Cats out of the bag. “We’re together. But what difference is it to you?”
“You don’t know him like I know him.”
“Maybe not, maybe I don’t have years of friendship with him, but I know him in my own way and I’m getting to know more of him every single day.” My heart is drumming in my chest as I say this. “Besides, I don’t have to have been friends with him for a long time to know just what kind of man he is. He’s kind, he’s funny, he’s selfless, he’s protective, he’s broken and yet he keeps on going. He’s fucking amazing.”
“Which is why you should stay ten feet away from him,” she snaps. “You’re going to use him and break his heart, just like you’ve always done.”
“Always done?” I cry out.
“You dispose of guys when you’re done with them. Toss them away like they don’t exist. Then you move on like nothing has happened, because to you, nothing has happened.”
“How would you even know that? You’ve never taken any interest in my life!”
“Facebook tells me everything I need to know. In a relationship, single. In a relationship, single. You’re never single for more than a month, it’s like you’re afraid to be alone, you just go from guy to guy and I’ve never seen you once look heartbroken over it.”
“Maybe I’m not the type to profess my feelings all over social media.”
She gives me a steady look. “You’re right. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you post anything negative. Another reason why life is just one fucking lucky happenstance to the next. And why nearly losing your life in a shipwreck doesn’t seem to have any impact on you.”
“Doesn’t have an impact on me?” I repeat. “This has been hard for me, too. But maybe, just maybe, I’m looking on the bright side, which is that we are getting rescued tomorrow. There’s an end in sight to this. Maybe I’d lose my motherfucking mind if I stayed one more day here, but that’s not happening, okay? And maybe it wouldn’t hurt you to be happy about that, too.”