The Unhoneymooners

“So chatty,” Ethan repeats, smiling through clenched teeth. “Can’t get enough of each other.”

“Totally,” I add, and make it even worse by giving a double thumbs-up.

Sophie and Billy look so natural at this. We, however, do not. It was one thing in the restaurant last night with Mr. Hamilton, where we had our own chairs and some degree of personal space. But here, my sunscreen-slicked legs slide all over Ethan’s, and he has to adjust me again. I’m sucking in my stomach and my thighs are shaking from the restraint it’s taking to not lean my full weight into him. As if sensing this, he pulls me back into his chest, trying to get me to relax.

“Is this comfortable?” he mumbles.

“No.” I am acutely conscious of every doughnut I’ve ever eaten in my entire life.

“Turn sideways.”

“What?”

“Like . . .” He guides both of my legs to the right, helping me curl into his chest. “Better?”

“I mean . . .” Yes. It is better. “Whatever.”

He stretches his arms across the deck railing and, gamely, I wrap an arm around his neck, trying to look like someone who enjoys frequent sex with him.

When I glance up, he’s just looking up from my chest again.

“Very subtle.”

He looks away, blushes, and an electric zap travels down my neck. “They are pretty great, you know,” he finally admits.

“I know.”

“They do look better in this than in the Skittle dress.”

“Your opinion is so important to me.” I shift, wondering why I’m so flushed. “And I can feel your penis again.”

“Of course you can,” he says, with a tiny wink. “It’d be hard not to.”

“Is that a size joke, or a boner joke?”

“Uh, definitely a size joke, Orville.”

I take a gulp of my drink and then exhale directly into his face so that he winces from the fumes of cheap vodka.

Squinting, he says, “You’re a real seductress.”

“I hear that a lot.”

He coughs, and I swear I see Ethan Thomas battling a genuine smile.

And I get it. As much as I hate him . . . I think I’m starting to like us.

“Have you ever snorkeled?” I ask.

“Yes.”

“Do you like it?”

“Yes.”

“Are you usually better at conversations than you are with me?”

“Yes.”