What happens when you find your One True Pair + 1?
Recent college grad Lexie Cambridge is *notoriously* indecisive. Gifted with a luxurious two-week cruise with her crush, she enlists her down-to-earth best friend for help determining when and how t...
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Socrates once famously said, "True knowledge exists in knowing that you know nothing."
But Drake said it best: "I know them type of hugs."
The floppy sunhat and oversized sunglasses Lexie wore did a fine job hiding her expression. Yet, her accessories did nothing to obscure the fact that they knew each other. Vic disengaged from her. I shook my head wryly as a blend of her perfume and their cologne hit my nostrils. Whatever flowers and forbidden forests these two had going on was something else.
What was that funny little hiccup of my ego? So, they knew each other. Big deal. "Alright! Let's get this party started. You good, Vic?" I clapped my friend's shoulders and gave a squeeze.
"Yeah." Vic was cool. "I'm good, but aren't we short a bed... or two?"
"You know what? I passed by the information desk on the walk up." Lexie wove around us for the door. I couldn't help but notice how stunning she looked in a melon sundress that showed off bare arms and back. "I'll see if they can transfer us to a family suite to allow the three to, uh. . ."
"Be in different beds, at least?" Vic gave a tight smile.
Lexie grimaced. "Be comfortable."
Ever the diplomat. I liked that about her, but I doubted she would have much luck. Aside from the cost of scaling up our boarding passes, the cruise line appeared to be doing everything in its power to mitigate the spread of germs. We had been given a thick rulebook by the crew with suggestions like, "Please refrain from visiting with guests outside of your travel party."
Very unlikely anyone would roll out the sanitized red carpet for us to take our breath particles from one space to another after the hassle of getting us here.
As Lexie strutted from the room, my eyes followed the arabesque lines of her legs down to her strappy high-heel sandals. Glancing at Vic, we were both staring. "I'm gonna go, uh. . ." Vic hiked a thumb behind them and fumbled for an escape route.
Once I had the room to myself, I plopped down at the foot of the king-sized bed and had a good laugh at both their abrupt exits. "Damn. How do I get myself into shit like this? Could've been avoided with communication, Devon. Communication," I mused aloud.
Vic was part of my inner circle, but we never talked personal lives. We shot ball together. We both shared an interest in philosophy. We talked Confucius and Camus, not Lexie Cambridge. In fact, she hadn't been a major part of my life until three weeks ago when she had hinted at wanting to be more than friends.
Of course, I knew the game. Lexie was from a Southern Black upper middle-class background. She probably had relatives crawling from the woodworks, encouraging her to "settle down" now that she had a degree. It was no secret my family made significantly less money than hers, which might ordinarily knock me out of the running, but Mr. Cambridge seemed to think my master's degree leveled the playing field.
