Good Times and Tan Lines Read online

  “And you knew exactly what you were doing when you undressed in front of me.”

  We’re interrupted by the arrival of some more divers, and Colton gives me a quick wink before jumping up to help them climb aboard.

  We don’t get much chance to talk as the others arrive and we start to head back to shore. Colton moves through the groups talking to people about everything from technique, to how long he’s been working here, to his favorite football team. He’s a natural at conversations, and it doesn’t take long for me to work out I’m not the only one checking him out. Or for me to notice that he’s obviously enjoying the attention.

  And of course he is. He probably picks up tourists all the time.

  Yet I can’t find it in me to care.

  When we arrive back in the marina and people start to leave, I pull my tank top back on and send Colton a wave over the head of the couple he’s talking to. I’m not into playing games, and I’ve made no effort to hide the fact I’m interested, but I’m also not going to stand around here waiting like an obedient pet.

  I steel my nerves and cross the stupid gangway again, gripping the bars for dear life. Then my feet are back on the ground and I’m making my way back to the beach.

  I know exactly where to find him. That cute little twink who makes my balls ache just thinking about fucking him. I’d planned to ask him out to dinner or for drinks but he hurried out of there so fast I didn’t get a chance to catch up to him. Even the memory of his cute little ass wrapped in those sky-blue swim trunks with the palm tree print makes me smile.

  It occurs to me, not for the first time, that Rainer and my ex have a lot of similarities, and I hurry to push that thought away. It’s not often a guy catches my interest, but it hasn’t escaped me that I have a specific type.

  As I cross the sand toward the bar I’ve seen Rainer at many times, I wonder if this hook up will be worth it. I came to Cala d’Hort to get away from my ex and our families and the epic shit fight I left behind, yet every time I sleep with a guy, it all comes rushing back. But I’m determined not to let that asshole ruin what could be a fun time with Rainer.

  Even from a hundred meters back, I spot him straight away. He’s wearing a loose silver top and tight shorts that make me lick my lips at the thought of sliding them off.

  I’m tempted to scare him again—very tempted—but while he played it off as good fun, I get the feeling he didn’t like being crept up on. So instead, I switch my adulting brain on momentarily and take the stool beside him. Thankfully it’s never as busy at this bar as it is up on the deck.

  “Good night for it,” I comment without turning to look at him. I’m sure he’s smiling, but if I look, he’ll make me smile too. And all the smiling I’ve done today isn’t great for this laidback vibe I try to project.

  “It’s a good night for a lot of things.”

  I suck in a long breath at his reply, doing my best not to picture that again already. Despite loving a quick fuck, I like to get to know my flings a little. Spending a week or so with someone isn’t enough to stifle me, but it is enough to stave off the loneliness that tries to kick in. I hold up my hand until Basil, tonight’s bartender, nods in my direction, then finally turn and face Rainer. He’s already watching me, and from the expression on his face I can guess he’s a few drinks in. “Do you have a list, or is that a general comment?”

  “Little of both.”

  “Sharing’s caring.”

  He snorts and takes a sip of what looks like scotch or bourbon on the rocks and I chastise myself for assuming he’d be drinking a cocktail. “Well, there’s the usual: stargazing, romantic dinners, skinny dipping …” His pink lips curl up at the corners. “Fucking someone’s brains out.”

  Jesus, he doesn’t muck around. I shift a little on my stool as my usual rum and coke is placed in front of me. Thank fuck.

  “It’s definitely not a night for that.” I don’t even know what I’m saying because that’s exactly what I want to do to him. But I like the buildup just as much as the actual act and if Rainer’s around for a while, I want to keep him interested. “How much longer are you here for?”

  He recovers from my blatant turn down relatively well. “Undetermined.”

  “You’ve already been here for a few days.”

  “Five.” His tone sounds clipped. “But I’ll stay for as long as I like.”

  “Hate to tell you this, but most people have an end date in mind.”

  “Not me.”

  I narrow my eyes a little and angle in his direction. “Sounds like there’s a story there.”

  “There is.”

  “Want to talk about it?”

  “Fuck no. I want to get laid. Now if you’re not interested, excuse me while I find someone who is.”

  My eyebrows shoot up at his words because now I’m sure he’s had more than a few. I’m not completely surprised considering the state I’ve seen him in most nights, and it means no matter what he says, there’s definitely no fooling around happening.

  He goes to slide off his stool and somehow tangles his legs before his feet hit the ground. I quickly grab his arm to stop him from leaving. “Who the hell said I wasn’t interested?”

  “You just made it perfectly clear, thank you.”

  Somehow Rainer trying to be rude is just funny. Once he’s found his footing, I give him a little tug, and he stumbles into me. My chuckle just seems to piss him off more and I can tell he’s about to push me away when I slide a hand up under his shirt and rest my palm against his warm lower back. He stills.

  “Of course I’m fucking interested. But I’m not going to fuck you tonight. And you’re not going to fuck anyone else either if you plan on hooking up with me any time soon.”

  Rainer visibly swallows. I’ve gotten to him.

  “You’re way too drunk, and you clearly need someone to talk to. So get your sweet ass back on that stool and spill.”

  He shakes his head a little. “You don’t want to know, trust me.”

  “Well if you can’t talk to a complete stranger about your problems, who can you talk to?”

  His light eyebrows bristle. “The only person I can talk to currently hates me right now.”

  I make a face and shrug. If he has no one to talk to, why not make me it?

  He rolls those pretty eyes but slides back onto his stool. “Why do you even care?”

  “I’m a good listener. And I know what it’s like to go through something fucked up then run away from it.”

  That gets his attention. “What’s your story then?”

  Some part of me knew that question was coming. I clear my throat, buying time before giving him an answer. It’s not that I don’t want to talk about it, more that I haven’t, and at this point, I wouldn’t even know how to give words to my feelings over it all.

  “See?” Rainer asks. “Not so easy is it?”

  “Are you challenging me?”

  “Just stating a fact.”

  I huff. “Okay, fine. As long as you promise not to pity me.”

  “I’ll promise that if you promise not to judge me.”

  “So you’re going to share too?”

  Rainer hesitates, then nods. “Might as well, I suppose.”

  “Alright.” I flag down Basil to bring us refills then nudge Rainer to get up and follow me. Crossing the sand in the dark makes carrying full glasses difficult, but somehow I manage to make it close to the water with both glasses mostly intact.

  “You’re going first,” Rainer warns.

  “Fine. Just so you know, this whole deep and meaningful starts and ends tonight. From tomorrow, it’ll be fun only.”

  “Presumptive that you think you’ll see me again.”

  “Nah, just confident.”

  Rainer snickers cutely before taking a sip. “Fair call. And I agree. Starts and ends tonight.”

  We toast to that, then after taking a small sip, I set my glass beside me on the s
and. I’ve only had one drink so I’ve barely even got a buzz, but it does feel a lot easier to measure the words in my head. “I just want to start out by saying, I’m going to skim a few details and it’s kinda heavy so just be prepared.”

  He crosses his legs and turns to me. “Ready.”

  I manage a little laugh at how innocent his big eyes look in the moonlight—completely deceiving given everything I’ve seen of him so far.

  “Okay, you’ve been warned. So I’ve always known I’m bi, and to me, it’s never been a big deal. I like women mostly, but a certain kind of guy completely does me in. The thing is, I grew up in a very large, conservative family and once I started to understand that maybe being attracted to guys wasn’t normal, I started to stamp that side of me down.”

  Rainer nods. “I know how that feels.”

  We share a small smile because I’m sure he does. I’m sure it wasn’t easy for him to be as open about his sexuality as he clearly is now either, and for some people, it’s just not something they need to consider. For people like us … ignoring who I am became almost natural, but there was always that feeling, a dishonest sickness that took over whenever I gave it the chance. There were times it got so heavy and consuming I wished there was a way to separate myself from it.

  “When I was twenty, I met Egan. We both came from similar backgrounds and I guess we became each other’s crutch. I relied on him for everything and I know he felt the same. Then one day we got caught together and it was a fucking mess.” I shift around a little and lift the hem of my shirt, revealing a rough scar on my lower back. “His older brother stabbed me.” Rainer sucks in a sharp breath a second before his fingers trace over my skin. “A whole heap of shit went down, I ended up in hospital and my parents were called. Needless to say, they found out everything. Most of my brothers fucking hate me, and the two who don’t attacked the guy who … fucked me up. My eldest brother’s in jail now, and my mom can barely talk about it. Egan’s family sent him back to Greece and a couple of years later, I tried to find him.”

  “Did you succeed?”

  “Yes.”

  Rainer doesn’t say anything just gives me time to continue.

  “He’s engaged. To a woman. At first, I assumed he was bisexual too, even though he told me he was gay, but he said I was just a mistake.” The word still hurts. “There was nothing left at home, and nothing left there, so I just kept travelling from one place to the next until I landed here. Dad’s the only one I still talk to. He sent me some money and I set up my business … I rarely look back.”

  “Jesus …” Rainer breathes. His hand is lightly rested over his mouth and after a moment, he tentatively reaches out to me. He squeezes my shoulder. His touch is warm.

  “And that’s my depressing ass story,” I say, attempting to lighten the mood. When it doesn’t work, I drop my voice. “You promised no pity, remember?”

  My gentle reminder makes him release me and awkwardly clear his throat. “Only if you don’t judge me and that remains to be seen.”

  “You’re up then.”

  He frowns, dragging a finger through the sand beside him. “Your story is messed up, and I hate that you went through that, but you came out innocent. It’s the kind of story you could lay on tourists so you could lay on them.” He winks to show he’s joking. “But mine … I’m definitely the bad guy in it.”

  I nod. “Consider me warned.”

  He shifts and I give him time, watching as he draws his knees up and wraps his arms around them, as though he’s putting a barrier between us. From this angle, his shorts ride up so far I can make out the tops of his smooth inner thighs and I have to force myself to look away. Just as I think Rainer’s about to start talking again, he changes his mind, picks up his glass, and doesn’t stop drinking until he’s drained it. He cringes a little as he sets his cup back down, but he takes the burn better than I ever have.

  “I fucked up with the only person in the world I love.”

  My eyebrows jump up and he bats a hand at my response.

  “Not in love with, but he’s my best friend. I’d say he’s like a brother but we’ve fucked a few times so that would just be weird.” Rainer shudders and I’m caught between laughing at how cute his expression is, and trying to picture the kind of guy Rainer would keep around.

  “Anyway, it wasn’t one thing … until it was. I’ve always been a bit, umm, wild, I guess. I like going out, I like trying new things—men, drinks, drugs, whatever—and I come from money. A lot of fucking money, so all those things are ridiculously easy to come by.” Rainer’s face falls and he shakes his head. “I’ve been out of control for a while now, but it wasn’t until Elliot told me he didn’t want to be seen with me anymore that it really hit home.”

  “Ouch.”

  “I’ll say. We had the biggest argument we’ve ever had. I said … things I don’t mean. When I threatened to ruin his career—which I’d never do. Ever—he kicked me out of his life. And what did I do? I went on a fucking bender. Molly and coke mostly, some weed to even it out a bit, which did not even it out at all. I let some guy fuck me in the middle of a club and got arrested, if you can believe it.”

  “What, you don’t?” I can’t help but ask.

  He shrugs. “Full consent, what’s the problem?”

  I can barely believe what I’m hearing. I’m no fucking prude, but Rainer must be a lot to keep up with. “When you’re that messed up, I don’t think consent is possible.”

  Rainer drops his gaze, suddenly looking very small. He sighs, and it drags on. “Your dad gave you money, and you made a life out of it. I have a whole trust fund and all I’ve done is tear my life down.” Elliot’s breathing has gotten heavy and he buries his face in his hands.

  His tone is bitter, heavy, and it sounds like this is something he’s been struggling with a while, no matter what he might say.

  “Hey … everyone gets a little lost sometimes.”

  “I’m not just lost.” His voice comes out muffled from behind his hands. “I’m a mess. An actual literal mess, not the cute kind people like to joke about.” He finally removes his hands. “I called Elliot to bail me out. He refused. I sat in a cell overnight because he was the only person I had.”

  “Where’s your family?”

  His laugh is empty. “As far from me as possible. I’m already on the brink of being cut off.”

  “That’s rough.” I don’t know what else to say.

  “Yes. Very. Elliot was the last person who loved me, flaws and all. And now, I don’t even have him.”

  “So that’s why you’re here.”

  He nods glumly. “Without him, what’s the point? What’s the point of partying, or feeling good, or a having shit tonne of money?”

  “You sure you don’t love him?”

  “I don’t love him. But I’m sure I don’t deserve him.”

  He looks so crest fallen, I just want to comfort him. But I barely know the guy, despite us both sharing some heavy things, so I don’t know the best way to go about it. Is he a hugger? Would be prefer me to ignore his vulnerability?

  “I know you don’t understand. I’m just a poor little rich boy, who’s hiding behind his money instead of standing up and facing my problems. I know people have it worse than me. I know I’m whining. And after what you shared, I just sound like a dick.”

  “Why do you think that?”

  “Because I am a dick.”

  I don’t answer right away because I’m not sure which way to do. Do I agree? Or try to deny it?

  “There’s no arguing that you did some dumb shit. But I can see how much it’s affecting you.” And I can. Even as each word comes, I believe them. “I’m not going to lie, it’s a lot. I mean … all of it. Do you … do you have a problem? With alcohol? Drugs?”

  He opens his mouth like he’s about to deny it, then stops. “I want to say no. But I don’t trust myself. Elliot is the only—only—person I have. If I lose him, wha
t the fuck do I do then? I’ve sworn to give the party drugs a rest, and I have which was fine because they were a sometimes thing anyway, but every time I think of our fight, I turn to alcohol to kill it.” He flops back on the sand, arms out on either side, and suddenly the sexy guy I thought I’d hit on is replaced by this vulnerable person I’m feeling a little drawn towards. He starts to laugh. “And this is all way too heavy for someone I’ve just met. Don’t worry, the night is nearly over and you can run away from the crazy person.”

  I should, shouldn’t I? So why don’t I want to?

  His shirt has pulled up a little, and I can’t help but reach out and run my hand over his flat stomach. He flinches at my touch, stomach muscles moving under the skin, and when he looks over at me, his expression is confused.

  “What are you doing?”

  I flop down beside him and those big eyes search mine. “I’m not judging. And you’re not pitying. And tomorrow, I want to see you again.”

  His lips turn down and his eyes near bulge from his head. “Did you not hear a word I just said?”

  I smile softly. “I did. And I also saw a guy who wants to change, who feels terrible about what he did, and who seems a little lost.”

  “I’ve always been lost. That’s nothing new.”

  “Well, I can’t talk about the drugs—I’ve never done them—but maybe while we’re spending time together, we can focus on alcohol free things?”

  “That sounds boring.”

  “And that sounds like a challenge.”

  Finally, finally he starts to smile. “Okay then, you’re on.”

  I pour my rum and coke onto the sand, trying not to look glum over the wasted drink, then stand up and help Rainer to his feet. I don’t let go of his hand.

  I think he needs it as much as I do. Sure, his story was fucking messed up, but after telling mine, I’m still a little raw. There’s a reason I keep it to myself.

  As we’re walking back to his beachside villa, he leans heavier against me with each step, clearly succumbing to the alcohol. I’m pretty sure the amount he had to drink is the only reason he told me his story, but I don’t have that excuse.