The Unhoneymooners

“So gorge,” I agree, ignoring Ethan’s horrified expression. No way he’s judging me any harder than I’m judging myself.

We stand together, the world’s unlikeliest foursome, and I attempt to diffuse the uncomfortable tension between us. “So, Billy. Where did you two meet?”

Billy squints up into the sun. “At the grocery store.”

“Billy is assistant manager at a Cub Foods in St. Paul,” Sophie says. “He was stocking school supplies, and I was buying paper plates across the aisle.”

I wait, assuming there will be more. There isn’t.

The silence stretches on until Ethan comes to the rescue. “The one on Clarence or—?”

“Huh-uh,” she hums around her straw, shaking her head as she swallows. “Arcade.”

“I don’t usually go there,” I say. More silence. “I like the one on University.”

“Good produce department at that one,” Ethan agrees.

Sophie stares at me for a few seconds, and then looks at Ethan. “She looks like Dane’s girlfriend.”

My stomach drops and inside my cranium, my brain takes the shape of Munch’s The Scream. Of course Sophie would have met Ami. Together Ethan and I are above-­average intelligent people, so why are we so stupid together?

I send him a barrage of panicked bra

in waves, but he just nods calmly. “Yeah, they’re twins.”

Billy lets out an impressed “Dude,” but Sophie is clearly less excited by the potential for homemade pornos.

“Isn’t that sort of weird?” she asks.

I want to shout YES—VERY—ALL OF THIS IS VERY WEIRD, but manage to clamp my mouth to my straw and drain about half of my drink. After a long pause of his own, Ethan says, “Not really.”

A seagull flies overhead. The boat rocks as we push through the waves. I reach the bottom of my drink and loudly suck watery air through my straw until Ethan elbows me in the side. This is so painful.

Eventually, Sophie and Billy decide it’s time to sit and make their way to a padded bench directly across the deck from where we’re standing—close enough that we’re very clearly sharing the same general space, but far enough that we no longer have to attempt conversation, or hear whatever disgusting thing Billy is currently whispering in Sophie’s ear.

Ethan clamps an arm around my shoulder in a clunky, robotic sign of We Are Also Affectionate; again, he was so much smoother last night. With ease, I reach up, sliding my hand around his waist. I’d forgotten he was shirtless, and my palm makes contact with his bare skin. Ethan stiffens a little beside me, so I lean in fully, stroking his hip bone with my thumb.

I’d intended to do it to needle him, but actually . . . it’s nice.

His skin is sun-warmed, firm, distracting.

It’s like having a single bite of something delicious; I want to go back for more. The point of contact where my thumb touches his hip is suddenly the hottest part of my body.

With a cheesy growl, Billy pulls Sophie onto his lap, and she kicks her feet up, giggly and petite. After a stretch of silence during which I really should have seen it coming, Ethan sits, too, jerking me down onto his thighs. I fall far less gracefully—far less petite—and let out a burp when I land.

“What are you doing?” I ask under my breath.

“God, I don’t know,” he whispers, pained. “Just go with it.”

“I can feel your penis.”

He shifts beneath me. “This was so much easier last night.”

“Because you weren’t invested!”

“Why is she up here?” he hisses. “There’s an entire boat!”

“You guys are so cute over there,” Sophie calls, smiling. “So chatty!”