Sagan smiles at me appreciatively for a moment, then lifts his hand and slides away strands of my wet hair that are stuck to my cheek. "That's the most you've spoken to me since we met," he says casually.
His fingers don't linger at all, but the feel of them does. And his stare. And the chills that crept up my arm after he touched my cheek.
I nod, a little embarrassed by his comment. "Yeah. I'm not much of a talker."
"So I've noticed."
I feel two things at once. I feel the weight of my attraction to him. It's so heavy, it feels like an anchor wanting to pull me under the water. But I also feel very defensive of my sister. If I had a boyfriend and he touched Honor's cheek like Sagan just touched mine, I'd find it highly inappropriate.
A person can't help their attraction to another person, but a person can help their actions toward another person. Brushing hair from my cheek while looking at me the way he was looking at me was definitely an action he should have controlled. I know this, because since the moment I found out he was Honor's boyfriend, I've done everything in my power to fight my attraction for him out of respect for my sister. But he doesn't seem to be fighting it very hard because he's looking at me right now like he wants to pull me under water and breathe his air into my lungs.
I glance over my shoulder, back at the door, waiting for one of them to return. Any of them. I'd even take Utah at this point. It's suffocating being the only one in the room with Sagan.
I face forward again and force myself to ask him more questions. Maybe I'll find out something terrible about him that will make me stop feeling this way. "You never said why you moved in with us."
He forces a tight-lipped smile. "It's kind of a depressing story."
"Well, now I'm even more curious."
He narrows his eyes as if he's sizing up my trustworthiness, but then he just gives me a clipped answer. "My family situation is a little complicated right now." He doesn't elaborate.
"You mean they're worse than mine?"
"Your family isn't so bad," he says.
Of course he believes that. He's not the one who's forced to live there. He's there by choice. "Yeah, well, stay in your corner because from my perspective, they aren't much to brag about."
His expression leaves no hint of his thoughts. He just stares at me as calmly as the water has become around us. Our knees touch briefly and it sends a shiver over me. I notice the same chills climbing up his arms when his gaze drops to my mouth. Just like it did the day he mistook me for Honor and created this monster inside of me with his kiss. I need him to back up a few miles. Or lunge for me.
Just like he's lunging for his phone.
Here and then gone.
He hopped out of the pool as soon as his phone started ringing. I've never seen anyone so anxious when their phone rings. I want to find out why he gets like that, but I also hope I never find out because that would mean we'd have to have another conversation.
Sagan answers his phone as he's walking out of the pool room. I'm alone now. It's kind of creepy, so I jump out of the water and grab the last towel. I also grab the key card and my stuff and head to the bathroom to change.
Honor has a fresh face of makeup and she's currently brushing her hair at the sink. She's already changed out of her bathing suit. "Is everyone ready to go?"
"More than ready," I say, closing the stall door behind me.
"I'll be in the van," she says on her way out the door.
I finish changing clothes, but I don't bother brushing my hair or applying makeup like Honor did. I just don't care as much as she does.
When I make it back to the front desk to return the key, Sagan is in the lobby, still on the phone. Honor hands him his dry clothes and he smiles at her and then walks them to the bathroom. Honor and Utah both walk outside and once again . . . I'm all alone. Because the front desk clerk is nowhere to be found.
"Angela," I say, tapping the key card on the counter. I'm not sure if I should just leave it on the counter and go, or if I should wait on her to return to the desk.
"Coming," she says, a little too cheerful. The door to an office opens and she slips out, smiling a little too widely. She combs through her hair with her fingers.
"Just returning this." I slide the key across the counter to her. I'm about to walk toward the exit, but I pause when Luck emerges from the office Angela just came from. He's still wearing the shorts he had on in the pool. I look at Angela, but she darts her eyes away, tucking the back of her work shirt into her skirt. I look back at Luck.
"Is everyone ready?" he asks casually, as if I didn't just interrupt whatever was happening in that office.
I nod, but I don't speak. I just walk away quietly because I'm speechless.
Did that seriously just happen?
Luck was in the middle of a conversation with me a mere fifteen minutes ago when he got up and walked away. How--in the span of fifteen minutes--did he end up having sex with a girl he doesn't even know in the office of a hotel?
I'm angry and I don't even know why. I couldn't care less who Luck has sex with. I don't even know him. I'm angrier about the fact that I wouldn't even know the first thing about having sex, much less a quickie with a guy I've never met before. Sex seems like such a monumental thing. It should take months to lead up to, and he accomplishes it in fifteen minutes.
The door is open when I reach the van. Honor is sitting in one of the two middle seats, so I save the other one for Sagan and take the backseat this time. I'm not sure I want to sit by anyone at this point.
Sagan walks outside and climbs in the front seat.
"Where's Luck?" Honor asks.
"He's getting dressed," Sagan says.
"He got held up," I add. "He was busy screwing Angela in the back office."
Honor spins around in her seat, wide-eyed. "Shut up! Angela is dating Russell!"
I really don't care.
"Is she really?" Utah asks. "Isn't that Shannon's older brother?"
Honor turns around in her seat. "They've been dating for like two years. I can't believe she'd do that to him!" Her words make it appear that she's upset about Angela cheating on her boyfriend, but her voice is way too eager over the possibility of it happening. Honor has always loved gossip. It's one of the many things she and Utah have in common.
Luck finally returns to the van, pulling his shirt over his head as he takes his seat. He closes the door and Honor doesn't waste any time. "Did you really just have sex with Angela?"
Luck turns around in his seat and faces me. "Really, Merit?"
I feel guilty for telling them now. It seems like I came straight out to the van with gossip, but I only told them because I was . . . I don't know. Why did I tell them?
Luck turns back around in his seat. "I don't kiss and tell."
"She has a boyfriend," Honor says.
"That's lovely," Luck says, uninterested.
"You're going to make things even worse for us," Honor says.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"The Voss family already has a terrible reputation around here, thanks to our father and Victoria. Now we've added you to the mix and you're a man-whore."
Luck laughs. "Do people not have sex in this town?"
"They do," I say. "But there's usually more than a one-minute screening process."
"Yeah, well, sex doesn't mean as much to me as it must mean to you guys."
"What if it meant something to Angela?" Honor asks.
Luck rolls his head and looks at Honor. "Believe me. It didn't."
"Says a lot about your performance," I say with a chuckle.
Luck turns around and hugs the seat, looking at me. "Speaking of sex," he says, challenging me with his stare. "Have you ever had sex with that guy you have a crush on? What's his name again?"
I shake my head, silently begging him to shut up, but I can tell I've upset him by starting this whole conversation. He very well might bring Sagan into the fold just to get back at me.
"Yo
u look embarrassed," he says, narrowing his eyes. "Are you a virgin, Merit?"
Sadly, I'm probably the only virgin out of this whole group. But I'm not about to discuss that with anyone in this van.
"Are you?" Luck asks again.
"Stop," Sagan says from the front seat. His voice is shockingly authoritative.
Luck raises an eyebrow and then slowly turns back around. Sagan glances in the rearview mirror and finds me. I have no idea what thoughts are going through his head, but they don't seem to be in my favor. He holds eye contact for a few seconds and then looks away. I close my eyes and press my forehead against the back of Luck's seat.
I shouldn't have come tonight. This is why I never hang out with any of them. It never ends on a good note.
Chapter Seven There are only twenty-four hours in today, just like every other day, but today seems twice as long.
We got back to the house a little after ten from swimming. Sagan took a shower first and then Honor took one. Utah has a shower in his bedroom, so he and Luck took turns using that one. By the time I got a free shower, there was no hot water left. I couldn't even wash my hair, but I honestly don't care. I'll take a shower when everyone is gone tomorrow.
I pulled the drawing Sagan did this morning out of my dresser and hung it on the wall next to my bed. I decided I wanted to look at it all the time. I'm looking at it right now as I sit on the floor next to the wall that separates mine and Honor's bedrooms. She and Sagan just started arguing and I want to hear every word of it. However, I only get bits and pieces because Sagan is too quiet in his rebuttals. Honor is the one raising her voice.
"You knew this when we met!" she yells.
He quietly responds with something inaudible and then she says, "You sound like my father."
He says something else and she completely loses it. "I am not!" she yells. "I knew him before I knew you, so don't you dare make me feel guilty!"
Oh.
That sounds bad.
A few seconds later, the door to Honor's bedroom slams shut. Then the door to Sagan's bedroom slams shut. Then someone knocks on my door.
I jump up because it's probably Honor and the last thing I want her to see is me sitting on the floor next to the wall, eavesdropping on her conversation.
I open the door, but it isn't Honor. It's Luck.
"Oh," I say. "Hey."
"Can I come in?"
I open the door wider and he walks in, assessing my room. I close the door while I assess him. He's wearing a pair of navy blue sweatpants and mismatched socks. He doesn't have a shirt on, but he's wearing a scarf.
"Why are you wearing a scarf?"
"It's cold in my room."
"Why don't you put on a shirt?"
"They're all in the wash."
He's so matter-of-fact, like a scarf without a shirt is completely normal. He walks over to my bed and falls down on it, propping his head up with his hand. "Are you mad at me?" he asks.
"Mad at you?" I sit down on the bed and relax against the headboard. "No. Why?"
He rolls onto his back and sees the drawing I hung up. He reaches out and touches it. "I'm not everyone's cup of tea."
I laugh. "Yeah, well, you're in good company."
He continues tracing the drawing with his finger. "Did Sagan draw this for you?"
"Yeah." I don't know why, but there's a little bit of guilt in my response. Maybe because Sagan shouldn't be drawing pictures for his girlfriend's sister. I know it was innocent for him, but my reaction to his gesture was anything but. It just made me like him even more than I did before he gave me the picture.
"I can see why you like him," Luck says. He rolls back onto his side. "Does he flirt with you?"
"No," I say immediately. "He likes Honor. I doubt he even notices me."
"Are you blind? Were you not in the car earlier when he took up for you?"
"He wasn't taking up for me. He just wanted everyone to stop talking about sex."
Luck shakes his head. "He got defensive when I asked if you were a virgin. I think your feelings might be mutual."
Luck has no clue what he's talking about. He's been here less than a day. "He wasn't defending me."
"Okay," Luck says. "Do you have a shirt I can borrow?"
"Look in my closet."
Luck crawls off the bed and walks over to my closet. He thumbs through the clothes for a bit. "I can see why you're a virgin. Do you own anything other than boring T-shirts?"
I ignore his insult. "Probably not. I like T-shirts."
He pulls one of my favorites off the hanger and pulls it over his head. It's a purple shirt that says, "Ask me about my purple shirt." He leaves the scarf on and then sits back down on the bed, but relaxes against the headboard next to me.
"I never said I was a virgin," I clarify.
He rests his chin on his shoulder and stares at me with a smirk. "You didn't have to. You get uncomfortable every time I say the word."
I roll my eyes. "Are you an expert? How many people have you had sex with?"
"Forty-two."
"I'm being serious, Luck."
"I am, too."
"You've had sex forty-two times?"
He shakes his head. "No, you asked how many people I've had sex with. That answer is forty-two. But I've had sex three hundred and thirty-two times."
I laugh. "You are so full of shit."
"I can prove it."
"Please do."
He hops off the bed and leaves my room. I use his absence to try and imagine how anyone could possibly have sex with that many people, let alone know exactly how many times they've had sex in their life.
He just keeps getting weirder.
Luck returns and closes the door, then sits in the same spot again. He's holding a small, worn notebook. "I keep track." He opens the first page and there's a list of initials on the left-hand side of the page, locations in the middle and a date on the right-hand side. I snatch the notebook from him.
I flip through it and read a few of the lines off.
P.K., crew quarters, November 7, 2013.
A.V., lido deck, November 13, 2013.
A.V., lido deck, November 14, 2013.
B.N., hotel in Cabo, December 1, 2013.
I continue flipping through the notebook, through 2014, 2015, 2016. "Oh my God, Luck. You're sick."
He grabs the notebook from me. "Am not."
I shake my head in disbelief. "Why would you keep track of that?"
He shrugs. "I don't know. I like sex. I figured someday I might break a record, or maybe I'll want to write a book about my adventures. Keeping track of it helps me to remember everything."
I grab the notebook from him and flip straight to the back page. I look at the last entry and sure enough, he's already added Angela and today's date. Although, he only put the letter A.
"I didn't catch her last name," he says.
I reach to my nightstand and grab a pen for him. "It's Capicci."
He smiles and adds the letter C to the entry. "Thanks." He sets the pen and the notebook down on the bed and leans his head back.
"Were you ever in love with any of them?"
He shakes his head. "Not a reciprocated love."
I sigh. "I know how that feels."
We're quiet for a moment, but then he says, "Thanks for the shirt, Merit. I need to get to sleep. Have to look for a job tomorrow."
I was enjoying the company, oddly enough. "Wait."
Luck pauses and waits for me to keep talking, but he can see in my expression that I'm a little hesitant to ask him what I want to ask him. He sits back against the headboard. "What is it?"
I spit it out before I change my mind. "What was your first time like?"
He laughs. "Terrible. For her. Not so terrible for me."
"Did she know it was your first time?"
"No. She didn't even speak English. Her name was Inga. I was the new guy on crew so I was a hot commodity among the ladies. The whole thing lasted about thirty seconds."
/> "Oh. That's embarrassing."
He shrugs. "It was at the time, but everyone's first time is always the worst. I eventually got better. And I got to make it up to her a couple of years later, so I redeemed myself."
"Why do you think first times are always the worst?"
He looks up in thought. "I don't know, there's just so much expectation. Society puts a lot of weight on losing your virginity, but in my opinion, it's better to just get it over with. Sleep with someone who doesn't mean much to you so it'll be less embarrassing than it already is. Then, when you finally do meet someone you really like, you can be with them without all the awkwardness."
I think about what he's saying and surprisingly, it makes sense. I hate the anticipation of what my first time will be like and who it'll be with and how old I'll be. I hate worrying that it might never happen and I'll grow old never experiencing sex or love or relationships. I'm not like Honor. I don't fall in love easily. I don't even know how to flirt easily. And I'm definitely nothing like Luck. I still can't fathom what happened with Angela earlier. I don't understand how someone can meet a person and within minutes be sharing such an intimate experience with them.
Maybe that's why I can't understand it, because I'm equating intimacy with sex.
"Any more questions?" he asks.
I shake my head. "No, I think that's enough to keep me awake all night."
Luck laughs and stands up. Before he walks out, he pauses in front of my trophy shelf. He picks up the first place fencing trophy. "Fencing?" He looks at me suspiciously. He replaces it and reads a couple more of the plaques on the other trophies, then he looks at me over his shoulder with an arched brow. "Did you actually win any of these?"
I smile. "Define win."
Luck shakes his head. "I've met a lot of people in my life, Merit. But you might be the strangest of them all."
"Runs in the family."
He closes the door just as my phone vibrates under my pillow. Speaking of strange. It's a text from my mother.
If you're still awake could you bring me a razor? I'm in the shower and mine broke.
I roll my eyes dramatically and drop my phone onto my bed. Why does she even need to shave? No one would ever notice how hairy her legs are. She doesn't interact with anyone!