“That’s also in the friend code. Especially for friends who might not enable themselves and might need a push.”
“I guess I’m a rule breaker then. Because I’m going to break that rule and not have a tropical tryst.”
She sighs, dejected. Then takes a deep breath, gives me a more intense stare. “But seriously, just tell me why this is a bad idea. You like him. You can have a conversation with him. You flirted with him all through dinner.”
Her questions are good and valid, and yet, a fling would be risky. “Because flings are the type of thing that I started the single-versary fund to avoid. Because he has a clingy ex. Because he lives in Hawaii and I’m all the way over in San Francisco.”
“Look, all of that is true, but you’re stronger than you think. You started the fund and fulfilled the fund. That was the hard work. Now you can enjoy yourself. It’s not falling back into old habits. It’s having fun. And you deserve fun.”
Maybe she’s right. Maybe it’s not as risky as I think. But there’s another issue. The how. There are other people around us pretty much all of the time.
“I’ll think about it,” I say.
“Good. Because I think you deserve a fling. That’s not the enabler in me. That’s the true friend.”
I smile, glad that she is precisely that.
No one mills around on the beach near my hotel this morning.
Well, plenty of people lounge and splash, but none of our tour group. And I didn’t see anyone as I walked over.
Just the guide, leaning against a fence and looking good enough to eat, or at least lick all over.
Metaphorically.
Caleb straightens as I reach him.
“Hi. Um. Did I sleep through a zombie uprising last night that took out the rest of the tour?”
He grimaces, which doesn’t bode well. “You could say there was an uprising, yeah.” At my confusion, he explains, “It was the halibut.”
“Zombie halibut?” I look toward the waves in horror. “And you think I’m going to go in the water for this surfing lesson?”
Caleb laughs. “I didn’t think it was possible for you to want to do this less.”
I glare at him. Not really, but kind of. “Undead fish, Caleb. Going in the water with live ones is difficult enough.”
“No zombies were involved at all. It was the halibut the rest of the group had at their hotel. The ‘something on the side’ was a case of food poisoning.”
I cover my gasp of sympathy. “Oh no! How awful for them.”
“How lucky that we had burgers,” he says.
“Those burgers might be on my best things list now.”
“Agreed. Anyway, it’s just you and me today.”
“Oh. It is?” My voice climbed an octave. “Okay . . .”
“Are you sure?”
“Of course!” I say, too brightly. I’m bordering on chipper, actually. “Of course it’s okay.”
He eyes me suspiciously. “Yeah?”
Yeah, except for the temptation-athon that is unfolding before me. It’s going to take all my willpower not to invoke the Tropical Tryst Addendum.
“Sure,” I say in a more normal voice. “It means we can skip the surfing lesson and go shopping. I saw some super-cute boutiques in the downtown area.”
I start to turn, but Caleb catches my arm, which is the opposite of helpful in the temptation department. “Not so fast.”
“Yes, this fast. That sounds like a perfect day.”
“Let’s make a deal. I give you a surfing lesson and then you can give me a shopping lesson. But I’m not going to wear . . . nothing.” His mouth curves in a rule-breaking smile. “Unless you’re super convincing.”
I suck in a breath at the idea of what I could do to convince him. “You are evil. And fine, I promise not to tempt you with birthday suits.”
“Well, you don’t have to promise . . .”
“Yes, I do. I’ll never keep to the rules. So, focus on something else. Anything. Even . . .” I pretend to gag. “Surfing.”
We go over to where he has two surfboards stuck in the sand.
Like really tall tombstones.
“Let’s start with the basics of surfing etiquette.”
“Like what side of the board the fork goes on?” I quip, and Caleb laughs.
“More like share the water. Don’t cut in. Don’t hog the waves. Observe the right of way . . .”
“This sounds a bit like driving lessons. Nobody likes Driver’s Ed, Caleb. But people really like shopping.”
He shakes his head. “Is there anything you won’t do to try to get out of this?”
“Of course there is. Everyone has their limits.”
“Well, aren’t you here on your single-versary to push yours?”
Suddenly the beach is a lot hotter.
“I promise this is easy,” Caleb reassures me. “Grab your board and let’s go.”
I don’t carry my board so much as drag it toward the surf, following Caleb into the shallows. He stops when the water is waist-deep and turns to me. “We’re going to start by just lying on the board. That’s how you’re going to get a feel for it.”