- 9 -

"Is that–"

I wish I could say watching my hookup for the night stop short after stepping a foot onto the bus, staring wide eyed at Noah, wasn't a turn off. She gaped for all of three seconds before continuing forward, her eyes lingering on him.

He was sitting on the couch with his feet planted on the ground, the remote in his hand. He looked up at us curtly and turned the TV off, pushing himself up to stand in front of us. The girl (Jen? Jess? Jules? Something with a J?) smiled widely at him, but he didn't even spare her a glance. He was looking at me while he grabbed his phone and headphones off the table.

"Gonna go for a walk," was all he said before he walked out the door.

I paused for a brief second, wondering if it was safe for him out there. It was Florida, after all. The bus was parked inside the gated venue's back lot, so he couldn't go very far without breaking and . . . exiting.

Jen-Jess-Jules snagged my attention by grabbing a half-empty bottle of tequila off the counter. She dangled it in the air by the nozzle and swung it between our bodies. I pushed all thoughts of Noah wandering around in the humid night and grinned halfheartedly.

We took swigs straight from the bottle, back to back, until things got messy and we ended up in my bed. It was quick, dirty sex with Chester the cat staring at us. I thought about Noah and what he was listening to while he took laps around the parking lot. Jen-Jess-Jules passed out not long after I finished (I say 'I' because I wasn't entirely sure if she did and didn't really care) so I pulled on some basketball shorts and headed outside before I could think about it.

The air was stickier than it was thirty minutes ago. Or maybe I was drunk. Tequila did that to me.

I lit a cigarette as I looked around, squinting through the blinding light beaming from a bright ass flood lamp over my head. The smoke swirled around me in distracting clouds as I peered through the area. I didn't have to look too far.

Noah sat with his back to the wall a few yards away. He had his head down with the hood pulled up, bulky headphones looped over the top of it. I approached slowly so not to startle him. He must have seen my shadow or something because he looked up before I could sit beside him.

He slid the headphones down to his neck and I could vaguely hear voices. "Done already?" he teased quietly.

"Road trips get me blocked up," I snorted.

I took a long drag from my cigarette before offering it to Noah and to my surprise he took it. I watched in the corner of my eye as his lips pursed around it, the cherry of the stick lighting up the shadows on his face. He exhaled as he let his head fall back against the bricks.

"I was thinking we could do the dolphin thing tomorrow before my show," I said and he finally met my eyes. "I don't have to start soundcheck until six, so . . ."

"You really don't have to come," Noah said and looked away while he hit the cigarette again. "I was planning on going early in the morning, probably before you even get Miss Girl off the bus."

I hummed as he passed it back. "Well, what if I want to come?"

Noah wouldn't meet my eyes again but shrugged. "You know, the more you hang out with me in public, the more people are going to think we're boyfriends, or something," he said with a slight scoff.

"So seeing a dolphin for the first time with an old pal automatically reads as a date?"

His eyebrows raised as he stared straight ahead, stretching his legs straight in front of him. "You've never seen a dolphin?" he asked.

"I'm from the mountains in Missouri," I said with a chuckle.

"But Seaworld? Surely one of your sponsors could have scored you free Seaworld tickets."

I shook my head, finally catching his eye. "My sister hates Seaworld and insisted we boycott it since she was old enough to know about inbreeding and cruel captivity," which made me smile. Thinking about Lina was so bittersweet because while it was always fondly, I was constantly reminded by the fact that I never saw her enough and she lived across the country.

Only a month and a half or so before I saw her in St. Louis.

"Well, I found this dolphin tour that's about thirty minutes away," he said. "Does nine o'clock sound okay?"

I stood up and tossed my cigarette butt somewhere behind me before holding out a hand for Noah to take. I ignored how warm and small his hand felt in my palm as I pulled him to his feet. "We better get some sleep, then," I said, turning on my heel towards the bus.

I promptly woke up Jen-Jess-Jules and told her to hit the road after ordering her an Uber. She pouted the entire time she redressed herself.

I fell asleep within the half-hour.

-

Noah looked incredible in khaki shorts.

I had only seen him in lounge wear for the most part, but to find him wearing very tight, very short, off-white khaki pants (not cargos, no pockets) had me grip my energy drink until the can clanked. He walked out of the bathroom with his hair wet and the snuggest T-shirt I'd ever seen. Chester rubbed against his leg and I felt almost jealous.

Maybe I was exaggerating and his outfit wasn't that fitted, but I thoroughly enjoyed how it looked on his body. The light colored shorts contrasted with his pale skin, the long stretch of smooth, milky skin popping in the dim lighting of the bus. Our eyes met and he raised his eyebrows.

"Let's go," he said.

I stood up, trying not to look at the damp curls falling down his forehead. "Ready to see some fuckin' dolphins, Russo?" I asked, pushing open the door to the bus. I squinted in the sunlight. Dustin and I had hung blackout curtains on every single window of the bus to ensure smooth morning afters. It made adjusting to daylight that much harder.

"Still can't believe you've never seen a dolphin," Noah mumbled as we got into the back of the SUV that Joey called us. He sternly instructed me to be back in time for soundcheck, with or without Noah.

"I mean, I've seen them in videos and stuff but never in person."

When I first started making money from acting, I was only twelve, so I wanted to do everything. Disney, basketball games, restaurants, shopping sprees. Mom limited me in an attempt to teach me to be smart with my earnings in case things didn't work out, but the income never stopped. I kept earning, so I kept spending. Until I grew bored.

They said money couldn't buy happiness and I assumed they were wrong. I had unlimited Kit-Kats, video game consoles, (puzzles for Dustin and I), and girls weeping at my feet. But it all got old. Money also bought drugs, alcohol, VIP sections, benders, binges, and Bentley's. I got tired. Fast.

I'd spent so little time cramming in all of these things I'd never seen before. I never took the time to appreciate it or really see it.

It was a beautiful, humid day in Tampa. Noah and I rolled our windows down and hung out arms out, feeling the warm breeze on our outstretched palms. At a red light, a lucky car full of girls pulled up on my side. One of them did a double take when she saw me and her eyes widened, not looking away as she started speaking. In an instant, four pairs of eyes were on my face as I smiled innocently.

They rolled their windows down and took photos and videos of me, squealing when Noah leaned over and waved. Before they could manage a whole sentence, the light turned green and we kept moving.

"I hope they don't bug us on the boat," Noah mumbled, his eyes trained on the city passing by us.

"Do you get recognized a lot?" I asked. I couldn't remember a time when I could step foot in public without hearing my name from a strangers mouth.

He shrugged. "Not as much as you, probably," he said, glancing my way. "But enough to want privacy sometimes."

Of course, I had come prepared. I hauled the backpack that I had packed before leaving (water bottles, Adderall, a towel, the works). Noah watched curiously as I pulled two pairs of sunglasses and two baseball caps out from inside. I handed him one and he managed to grin, slipping the sunglasses on immediately. I tugged the hat on over my hair, a good choice since I was having the worst hair day of my life.

Before we knew it, we were pulling up to the side of a busy beach side boulevard, unsuspecting tourists crowding the sidewalks. I slugged the bag over my shoulders and slipped my glasses on, nodding at Noah, before jumping out of the SUV.

We approached the small building that looked more like a faux tiki themed hut. There was a line down the sidewalk so we stood patiently.

"I read that some people didn't even get to see them this early," Noah said quietly.

"We'll see them," I assured him, but I had no fucking clue. Were dolphins nocturnal?

A large group of teenaged girls piled in line behind us with some exhausted looking chaperones. I looked up at the sky and begged whoever was looking down on us that we wouldn't get recognized. For Noah's sake.

He began reading out loud. "'Dolphins are most active in the morning and evening.' That's good, right? A lot of the reviews said they said ton of them in the afternoon. I just hope we're not too early," he said. I was taking a mental note that Noah was a bit of a worrier.

The line dragged, but eventually we got to the front. We signed some safety wavers and gave our IDs, which got some wordless looks from the employee that wrapped our bracelets on our wrists. She didn't say anything, however. We had just missed the last boarding, so we would be first seated on the next boat.

Noah walked to where there was fencing that looked over the water. I stood next to him, leaning on the poles and instead of staring out at the sea, I focused on him.

Even in disguise, he was something to look at. His jaw, not too structured but distinct enough. The sheen of his lips after he'd slid his tongue out to moisten the soft, pillowy pink surfaces. He must have shaved last week or so, but his shadow was coming in full force. I wished I could see his eyes.

"Can I tell you a secret?"

He looked over at me, though I couldn't tell exactly where his eyes were. A part of me hoped he was looking at my lips, too. "Sure?"

"Remember the night in LA when we had the groupies in Dustin's hotel room?" I asked dumbly. He hummed in affirmation. "And remember how there it was two girls and a guy?"

Noah bit his cheek, the skin caving closer to his teeth. I wasn't sure why I was telling him this. Well, I was kind of sure why, but it wasn't something that necessarily needed to be said out loud. "Yes."

"Well," I took a deep breath, not ready to let this confessional out, "I kinda . . . me and the guy . . . we–"

"Had sex."

I tried so hard to squint through the dark lenses of his sunglasses to get some sort of hint of what his was thinking. Though I wasn't confident I'd be able to read him even without them covering his eyes.

"Yeah," I sighed.

"And you're telling me this because . . .?"

I don't fucking know. Because I might have had some kind of bisexual awakening and wanted to talk to someone who understood it? Because I was feeling an irrational attraction to you and didn't know how else to bring it up? Because I'm an attention whore seeking validation from you?

"Because it was . . . my first time," I said.

He didn't say anything for a minute, just looked back over the water. I sank my nails into my palm, feeling so stupid for over sharing. My brain did that thing where it absolutely berated me for opening my mouth while I fumbled to pull my pack of cigarettes out.

Noah started drumming a beat on the railing. "Did you enjoy it?" he questioned casually.

I shrugged, but he wasn't looking at me, so I spoke, "I guess so. Didn't feel much different."

He snorted and I looked up at him, furrowing my eyebrows. What was so funny about that? It wasn't like I did it wrong. Unless I did. Fuck.

"That's because everyone you fuck just feels like another body," he said, which took me aback for a moment. I didn't think he even thought about me enough to try to read me. "When was the last time you slept with someone more than once? And twice in the same twenty-four hours doesn't count."

I pursed my lips, lighting the cigarette to buy myself some time to answer the question. I didn't even have to answer his stupid question. But I did because the little nagging voice in my head just wanted me to keep talking to him, regardless of what about.

"About a year ago," I said, inhaling the cigarette deep, tasting the tobacco on my tongue, slick and sweet. Noah stopped his hands from beating on the metal, looking back at the people around us. "I was sort of seeing a girl for a while, no strings attached."

I was talking about Kelsi, of course. We had hung out for a few months before I ruined that.

Noah didn't seem to care. He didn't say another word about it. It kind of made me feel like . . . It felt like when you are having a serious conversation and have nothing to do with your hands. I just hit my cigarette until I reached the filter and put it out on the pole, discarding it in the trash can nearby. Normally, if the conversation took a hopeless turn, I would walk away. But I was trapped here and soon I'd be trapped on a boat with him.

My anxieties plagued me. I knew he probably wasn't thinking about anything the way I was, but I chronically overthought everything until I wanted to rip my eyelashes out.

A man with a beard and a fishing cap called out that the next boat was pulling in. Noah and I headed over. I wanted to say something, anything. Why was I like this?

The boat was . . . tacky. It was pretty big with a top and bottom level. There was raffia skirting along the edges and big, phony tropical leaves decorating every spare inch that didn't already have a quirky framed quote ('Men: No shirt, no service. Women: No shirt, free drinks' or 'Sea la vie!' or 'No one likes a shady beach'). I was overwhelmed by the odor of coconutty sun tan lotion and salt.

Noah didn't wait for me as he immediately ascended the squared off steps to the top. Through speakers, our nautical tour guide was instructing everyone to find a seat until the boat started moving.

I sat beside Noah. The breeze licked our skin and I leaned my head back against the wall of the boat, not much higher than my neck while sitting. When we are allowed to stand, we'll have a perfect view of the open seas. He bounced his leg nervously while gripping his cell phone in his hand, looking around at every noisy tourist around us.

"Hey," I muttered close to his ear, catching his attention, "wanna bet on how many we'll see?"

Noah shrugged half-heartedly. "Bet what?"

"Loser buys lunch," I suggested.

He snorted, nodding as he made his guess. While he said he bet we'd see less than ten, I bet we'd see more than fifteen. I didn't care if I won or lost, I was just pleased at the notion of more alone time with Noah. I needed to redeem myself after bringing up my newfound sexuality earlier.

"Ladies and gentlemen! Welcome to the Tiki Dolphin Tour! Keep your arms, legs, and personal belongings on board at all times. I'm your tour guide, Alex, that's Captain Jeb, and without further ado, let's go spot some dolphins!"