The Do-Over(9)

I jumped at the melodious sound of Wes’ voice. I had been so mesmerized by the water, that I had not heard him approach.

“Thank you.” I smiled and took the plastic cup. “Did you have a good trip?” I finally asked.

Leaning with his forearms on the railing, he was standing so close to me, that his arm was touching mine, and all I could focus on was the heat where our skin touched. Leaning into him slightly, I was being greedy for the contact. Why was I so obsessed with this guy? He didn’t move away and my heart immediately felt lighter.

Shrugging, “I had an okay trip. My sister was truly miserable and miserable to be around.” And there it was, those full, pouty lips broke into a smile, a smile I had waited days to see again.

Laughing, “I’m sorry. That’s certainly no fun.” Taking a sip of my drink for courage. “Your sister didn’t want me near you.”

He didn’t look at me, his eyes remained focused on the boat’s wake. Nodding, “Yeah, I know. I’m sorry, but don’t take it personally. I think she invited me to help nurse her broken heart. She wanted her big brother to take care of her. So, she wasn’t too keen on sharing me with anyone. And it’s my sister, I owe it to her and she did pay for the trip.”

His words made me feel somewhat better, but still sad that we weren’t able to build upon the promise of that first night. “You’re a good brother.”

Maybe it was the motion of the boat, maybe it was Wes, but I thought I felt him lean into me just a little bit more and I wanted to stay like that, even though it was just a small portion of our bodies touching, I could feel the connection. The spark. And I wanted to focus on it, just a little longer. But tomorrow he would go back to L.A. and to Alicia, the actress, and although our lives seemed to be running parallel, chances were I’d never, ever see him again.

He didn’t move away from me and we stood like that, leaning into one another, as if we were sharing our energy through the skin on our arms. The more I pressed into him, the more he reciprocated.

Wes Bergman was going to go down in my life as a great big what-if. And now, I’d be using our first night together as a benchmark at how comfortable and attuned to a person I wanted to be. And so I told myself, as we leaned on the railing that final night, that the reason I met Wes was to show me how I could click with a guy, and to look for that in future relationships.

Our moment, just like our first evening, was to be short lived. It wasn’t long before Stacy made it out onto deck and a half-tanked, very handsy Hunter – who I had successfully avoided the rest of the week until now, came up from behind, and planted his lips on my neck. Moving away immediately, without speaking a single word, Wes never gave me another glance the rest of the evening.



I pounded on Hunter’s door when he no-showed at breakfast, we were already in port and they were about to start debarkation. He’d been so trashed the night before, that I walked him back to his room, removed his shoes and socks and placed a trash can next to the bed. He’d actually passed out several times on the walk to his cabin and now I was worried that maybe he shouldn’t have been left alone.

“Hunter, open up. We’ve got to get off the ship soon.” But there was no response from inside the cabin. “Hunter!” I banged again, but still no answer.

After getting him safely in bed, I had walked out giggling, thinking guys can sleep anywhere, but now I was a little worried about him. Maybe he wasn’t okay. Putting my ear to his door, I stood very still, listening.

After a few moments, I could hear his snores and breathed a sigh of relief. I guessed when the cleaning staff came along to service his cabin, they would wake him up.

Now that I knew he was okay, I could breathe easy and get to what I had been thinking about, stressing over all morning. Saying goodbye to Wes.

The debarkation process had already begun by the time I got back on deck. Scanning the crowd, I hoped that Wes hadn’t left yet. As I stood on my toes to see over people’s shoulders, I tried to catch a glimpse of the front of the line, but I didn’t spot Wes or Stacy anywhere. The disappointment and heaviness in my heart was startling. I wanted to say goodbye, see his magnificent smile one last time and end things on a note that left us each with the glowing memory that honored that first night.

Getting out of the departure line, I started to walk toward the front of the crowd. With each step, I began to get more and more agitated, fearing that I’d missed Wes while I was off banging on Hunter’s door to make sure that he was all right.

As I reached the very front, I could see the back of his head, his dark curls and slim jean-clad body already off the ship and almost all the way down the gangway.

“Wes,” I called out, but over the din of departing passengers between us, my voice was drowned out by the crowd. “Wes,” I tried to yell louder, but he and Stacy were entering the port terminal. Defeated, I stood there for a few moments, fighting back tears, before getting back in line.

Fifteen minutes later I was in the terminal, but Wes and Stacy were long gone.

Just one week before, I had boarded the ship, ready for a great adventure, as I explored a group of islands I had yet to visit. One week later, I made my way back to the airport, my heart feeling oddly empty. It had been a strange trip indeed, a week where I lost my heart to one man and gave my body to another, and then left totally alone.

My flight home provided no relief, I wanted to sleep to escape the melancholy that had latched on tightly, but all I could do was look out the window.