Life Sucks Like Bad Chocolate

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"Can I get another... ummm..." I stare down at the glass in my hand, attempting to articulate what I want but failing miserably.

I tap on it, looking pointedly at the bartender, hoping for a little help.

I'm not quite drunk but I got a nice little buzz going on. I pull the glass up to my nose and sniff it before frowning at the empty bottom.

I'm irritated at the bartender, at the music playing, at the romantic lighting in this... this little room thing they call a bar. I'm in the middle of a fucking boat in the middle of the motherfucking Caribbean and I don't know what the fuck I'm still doing here.

I shake the glass at the fine-as-hell bartender. His dark hair and olive complexion are making me feel a little better. A little eye candy is better than none, right?

"I'm sorry, I don't remember the name of the... the ummm... yummy thing that you put in here?"

He raises an eyebrow at me.

"Just get me another one will you?" I'm trying to be nice but my irritation is bleeding through.

He takes the glass from my hand before turning away to mix up whatever the hell I just had.

I rest my cheeks on my fists, squishing my face. I know I look ridiculous but I don't care.

It's a beautiful bar but it's cringy now. I want to laugh at myself. Who the hell thought it was a good idea to create nine-day long Valentine's Day cruises?!

I guess they're on the same wavelength as those who buy tickets for it.

There are hearts hanging all over the place with random Cupid decorations and roses EVERYWHERE. A small box of chocolates and rose petals in the shape of a heart on the...

I look to the side and notice a dance floor with only a few couples on it. The bar is kinda dead, which is awesome for me. I don't feel like seeing people happy and in love, whatever the fuck that means.

I feel my foot tap to the music in spite of my low mood. "Fucking love songs," I grumble. The low hanging mood lights don't help much.

I'm too busy feeling sorry for myself to notice the drink that's neatly placed on a napkin in front of me. I notice the movement from the corner of my eye and drag my eyes from the couples to the bartender who is directly in front of me, eyeing me with a hint of concern on his face. I lift up my head and wrap my hands around the glass.

"Thanks... It's perfect." I try to sound enthusiastic but I'm failing miserably. I'm pretending that I don't notice his look of pity but it's something that's really hard to ignore.

I suddenly remember I'm supposed to pay him. I reach into a pocket that I realize is no longer there.

Damn this dress!

I don't know why the hell I dressed up. Fuck!

My wallet is in the pocket of my jeans... on my suitcase... in the room where my boyfriend is currently fucking his...

I take in a deep breath through my nose before squeezing my eyes shut and slowly letting my breath out.

I give the bartender what I'm hoping is a flirtatious look before suddenly realizing that I don't do flirty. I'm not attractive enough to do flirty. I grimace as the truth hits me.

"Hey, would it be possible to have this charged to my room?" I tap on the glass as I add, "Room 156." He punches a number into the tablet attached to the counter before staring at it for a moment. He slowly shakes his head. "All tabs have to be paid nightly and there's a daily limit." He taps the screen again. "It looks like you've gone over yours."

He gives me an apologetic glance.

I lower my eyes to my glass, biting my lip. The bits of fruit floating on top mock me. I feel the bartender's eyes on me. Like what does he expect me to do?

Pull $10 out of my prison pocket?!

I could offer to wash dishes... Do they still do that even?!

I hear a chuckle to my left. So now I'm being laughed at? I ignore the urge to scowl. I don't want to act like I heard. I'm determined not to give anyone else the satisfaction of seeing my pain as my life is ripped apart.

I'm not sure what to do.

"Put the lady on my tab." An irresistibly sexy growl permeates the air.

A blush suddenly tinges my cheeks. I'm not going to respond because surely he can't mean me.

Lady? Pfffft

I'm as far from a lady as you can get... probably why I'm not in the arms of some... I blink away the barely-there tears before they overwhelm me.

There's suddenly a refreshing scent tickling my nostrils... Intoxicating and masculine... I can't keep my eyes from turning in the direction of the voice and the presence that's taking up the air around me.

Oh....

No way in hell he's talking to me!

Not a guy who looks this good.

I don't bother making eye contact, completely convinced he's talking to the bartender about another woman sitting at the bar. I turn my attention back towards my drink and ponder my predicament.

I feel like shit for having forgotten but seriously... the only other option was to sneak into my room that holds my boyfr-... my now ex-boyfriend and his little love muffin whom he snuck here to have a rendezvous.

"Hey, beautiful." That heavenly voice is closer than it was. I glance over at the owner of said voice and my panties are instantly damp.

Am I allowed to look at him?! Gaaaah

His words suddenly hit.

Beautiful?

He called me beautiful. There's no way he means it but hey, I guess I don't have a choice but to accept his pity flirting. It's better than falling into his arms and crying into his shoulder.

I decide to scrutinize him even though I'm embarrassed to even look in his direction. I gather my courage and look him square in the face.

Yeeeeah, that was a bad idea. Gorgeous skin the color of warm caramel, sun-streaked golden brown hair, and captivating eyes. They're calming; like the waves of the sea. The finishing touch on this masterpiece is a well-shaped jawline adorned with scruff, the kind that would send shivers down your spine if brushed against certain places during... yeah...

I can't stop staring at him. I'm trying to be subtle and I know I look ridiculous.

Adonis...

He's gotta be Adonis. No way in hell he's human.

I feel myself blushing. Pretty sure my cheeks are a pretty shade of pink.

I wait for him to turn away in disgust and I'm actually shocked that he doesn't. All my feels are at the surface and they're practically dragging the ground, I feel so low.

I'm silently begging for him to talk. Say something - ANYTHING - to break the silence. I know the universe is playing tricks on me because there's no way this guy would call me beautiful.

He's wearing a pair of nice khakis and a loose fitting linen shirt that hides absolutely nothing. I swallow hard as my pheromone production revs up. I can't keep my eyes from tracing his frame.

He is sitting on the chair beside me, not too close but close enough for me to be able to inhale his cologne. An easygoing half smile and casual demeanor don't hide the fire in his eyes.

My skin seems to burn as his eyes sweep over every bare inch of it. Is this a dream? I swallow hard.

He's got GQ vibes. I have AARP vibes. No way, no way...

My eyes widen and I stare at my drink. It's been spiked! It has to be. I lean over and stare into the green abyss that is my drink. Wait, is it actually green?!

What the hell did mister gorgeous bartender put in my drink?? I'm friggin hallucinating. I know I am.

I look back up at GQ hottie, just waiting for a T-Rex with a top hat to come into frame. Cuz that's bound to happen on whatever kind of drugs I'm pretty sure I've drugged with.

But the T-rex would mean... top hat, top hat... a tap dancing T-Rex. He's going to take the ship out.

It's going to be Titanic with a T-Rex! I'm not gonna drown because of a T-Rex on a ship! Fuck that!

Adonis gives me this half charming, half teasing smile, immediately stopping any brain functions I have left running.

Oh my God, my lady parts are tingling!! What do I say?!

Do I say something? Am I supposed to?! He's talking, right? But you can't talk to a dream. Maybe he's Mister Sandman?

Well if that's the case, sign me up! I will put in an application to be a dream fairy right now! The corners of my lips twitch.

No, don't laugh! No smiling! He's gonna think you're weird! No, he doesn't think it; he knows already! It's as clear as the oversized nose on my face.

Mister Sandman, my ass. But there's no other explanation for a 10 to approach a 4. Unless I am drugged but that's less likely than being asleep. I shake my head, knowing he can't see it. Cuz people in dreams don't see me.

Yeah, I'm in a dream... Unless I'm dead?

𝘔𝘢𝘺𝘣𝘦 𝘐'𝘮 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘥...

That's the only way this would happen...

Lewis already showed me where I was on the totem pole by picking a literal bean pole over me.

Adonis leans back in his chair with an arm casually draped across the edge of the bar. He smirks at me, his eyes solidly on my face. I resist the urge to cringe, suddenly wishing I was someone else.

I brace myself for the inevitable rejection that's going to come the minute he figures out what a loser I am.