Thalassic Love (BoyxBoy)

Chapter Twelve

     The look that Ali gives me when I enter the dining room before we begin serving breakfast throws me off. It's not a dirty look, but it's one that says, "What are you doing here?"

That's exactly what my coworker asks me when I'm close enough to him. I shake my head in confusion. "What do you mean? I'm here to serve breakfast as usual."

"Didn't you get the memo from our supervisor? You're supposed to fill-in as a bartender today," Ali informs me.

This is the first I'm hearing about this. I'm not sure when I was supposed to get the message, but I clearly got it too late.

"No one told me that," I deny. "Besides, I don't know the first thing about making mixed drinks."

"Don't worry. They'll most likely have you taking orders on the pool deck and handing guests their drinks," Ali assures me. "I don't think you'll be the one actually bartending."

"Well, thanks for letting me know."

I scurry off to question our supervisor on what's next for me.

***

   "Excuse me!" I hear a man call from behind me just as I'm about to head back to the bar.

So far, I'm genuinely enjoying this change of pace and scenery. Being able to get a glimpse of the sea here and there while attending to thirsty guests isn't too bad. Though, there are some that are more needy than others— especially if they've got an alcohol buzz going for them. The hardest part is trying to remember what drinks go to which person and tracking them down on the deck.

With an inaudible groan, I turn around with a fake smile plastered on my face. That is, until I see who's asking for my assistance.

A shirtless Harrison is sprawled out on one of the lounge chairs next to the pool. His toned and slightly tanned arms are resting behind is head. It takes everything in me to ignore that he's half-naked despite his forest green swim trunks. The most difficult part to ignore is his perfect calves.

"Not you," I mumble as I make my way over to Harrison.

"Get me a mojito."

"Manners?" I question.

"Don't need them," Harrison dismisses. "Plus, you have a high chance of spilling my drink all over me. So, there's truly no reason to be nice to someone who doesn't know how to serve."

Just like you poured yours on top of me the other night?

"I'll grab your mojito right away, Mr. Wallace," I comply, going straight to the bar.

"Thanks, Vix."

I stop in my tracks, my back toward him. Vix?

Between Harrison's current attire and that nickname, I have to ignore the slight pang of arousal that hits my groin. There's no one I hate more than Harrison. I can find someone attractive without wanting to fulfill those desires, right? Lance is the only man who has treated me like I deserve.

But that nickname...

The way it slipped off Harrison's tongue with such ease. He's the first person to call me that on this ship, and he says it so sweetly.

This has to stop.

Back to the bar I go.

     When I return with Harrison's mojito, I hand it to him as I'm without a place to set the drink down. Our fingers brush only for a second. An unfamiliar wave rushes through me like the ocean tide.