Going Nowhere (A Romantic Comedy Novella) Read Online Free PDF

elbow. I turned around to mouth, “Thank you.”
    The man attached to the hand smiled down at me, bright white teeth flashing in glorious contrast to his ebony skin. “You’re welcome,” he said.
    My heart beat a little faster at his Bahamian accent. It was warm and inviting, seductive and promising. I continued to dance, but now I was looking only at him. My gaze took in every inch of him and I suffered not a moment’s disappointment.
    The tropical shirt he wore was buttoned only halfway up his hard, rippled chest. Off-white shorts clung loosely to slim hips and suggested unmentionable things to my young, impressionable mind. He had the perfect swimmer’s body: lean and muscular.
    “My name is Rico,” he said over the music.
    “Hi,” I replied, breathily. “I’m Kate.”
    “I think you are the most beautiful woman on this ship, Kate.”
    My slight intoxication added credence to his words. I did look pretty good, I thought. And standing next to him, I looked even better. He might not have been the handsomest man on the ship, but since I couldn’t look away from him, I had no way to compare. I smiled, the beat of the music rebounding in my head. “Thank you!”
    We danced together, our rhythm perfect, never stepping on one another’s toes. I didn’t even have to think about my moves or the music. I was just there, floating in a world of illicit alcohol-induced acceptance.
    Then I stumbled a little toward him and neatly fell into his arms. “I’m so sorry.”
    “Don’t worry about it,” he generously replied while I righted myself.
    When I fell for a second time, I frowned and tried to find a way out of the heaving mass of dancers. Their rapid movements had started to make me dizzy, and suddenly all I wanted was to lie down. “I have to go,” I said above the din.
    Rico nodded. “See you later.”
    A little disappointed that he wasn’t even going to walk me to my chair, I pouted as I walked. No, I hadn’t counted on my handsome dance partner to be the man of my dreams, but a little help would have been nice. Hell, if he held my hair while I puked, it’d practically be a marriage proposal.
    I squeezed my way through the crowd and found a lounge chair as far away from the music as possible. I shielded my eyes from the sun and laid back. Not surprisingly, my hands didn’t offer much protection from the twenty-seven million degree sun.
    Groaning, I retrieved my suntan lotion from my bag and rubbed it into my back as best I could. I made a pillow out of a towel someone had left and turned onto my stomach. I unhooked my bikini top. I didn’t care how drunk I was; there was no way I could respect myself the next day with a lily white stripe running straight across my back.
    I lay stiff as a board, knowing that if I moved again I would suffer another onslaught of nausea. At least I could show up at work next week with a tan that would make Snooki jealous. So, even when I heard footsteps approach, I didn’t budge.
    “Hello again,” I heard Rico say, his voice like a tropical caress. “Would you like me to put some lotion on your back?”
    “Mmm... okay.” Now things were looking up.
    Rico hummed to himself as he sat on the edge of the recliner. Then he applied the lotion to my back, slowly massaging it in. After a minute or so, the job could have been over. Instead, he continued to knead and rub. I exhaled, eyes closed, and swam in the tranquility his ministrations created.
    His hands were like magic. I’d never thought I’d use that comparison in my life, even though I’d had wonderful spa massages and even more wonderful full-body caresses from various boyfriends. It wasn’t as though I were just grateful or desperately starved for any man’s touch; Rico truly knew how to make every muscle in my back release like one of those compacted towels you buy in tourist shops.
    “That feels good,” I finally managed to say. I could hear the rasp in my voice, the subconscious suggestion of what I was