Whiskey and Scotch

Chapter 6

I woke up in the morning to find Bobby splayed out on our bed like a starfish, one arm draped over me and one of his legs tangled in between mine. He had partially thrown off the covers overnight, revealing his cupcake-patterned pyjamas.

Cute.

I extricated myself out from underneath him as gently as possible, so as not to wake him, and headed to the showers. I decided to keep my hair dry while I washed the rest of my body, liking the way the curls from the night before had loosened while still maintaining their shape. Once finished I picked out a red one-piece swimsuit with diagonal cutouts and applied a light layer of makeup.

I headed into the garden and caught the scent of eggs wafting from the kitchen. My stomach growled as I walked over to the kitchen where it sounded like Hannah was educating Marisol on the finer points of Ernest Hemingway novels.

"Is it bad that I've never read anything by Hemingway?" I asked, and Hannah turned to me in shock. "He wrote that one about the old guy who goes fishing, right?"

Hannah almost choked. "You mean The Old Man and the Sea. You haven't read it? It's not even long!"

"Just never had to, I guess. But what does the length have to do with it? Hell, I read Gone With the Wind one summer."

Hannah sighed and a dreamy look came over her face. "Ooh, Rhett Butler..."

I walked over to where Marisol was standing over a frying pan. "What's cookin', good lookin'?"

She blushed and the corners of her mouth turned up in a small smile. "I'm making tortilla de patatas. A Spanish omelette."

"You eating all that yourself, or is some guy here getting lucky?"

She hesitated and glanced at Hannah. "I was hoping to share with Gary, actually."

Hannah spun around with a frown. "But I'm cooking for Gary!"

Marisol lifted an eyebrow. "Do you really think Gary's the avocado on toast kinda guy? Besides, you shouldn't be putting all your avocados in one basket, sweetie. Why do you think I'm cooking for him?"

"Wait, what if I want Gary?" I said.

"You as well?!" Hannah said, a sad look coming over her face.

"You'll have some competition, babe," Marisol smiled.

"It's just... if the choice is between the three of us, it's fare thee well for me..."

"You're just not his type," I said. "He's a bloke who probably watches sports all day, you need a guy who'll dote on you and treat you like a princess. He's probably never read a book cover-to-cover in his life."

"She's right," Marisol said. "You should be getting out there and grafting on the other boys rather than trailing someone who's not interested. Find someone who's more on your wavelength."

I could stick around listening to this, or...

"Anyway, I'm going to let you settle this on your own," I said, and turned to walk back into the villa, the sound of Hannah's continued pleas fading behind me.

... I could go get the upper hand myself.

I found Gary sitting alone on his bed, and I smirked to myself.

Looks like it's my lucky day!

"Hey handsome," I said, dropping onto his bed.

He smiled. "Alright, Josie? You're looking ace this morning."