Page 46 of Catch and Release
“A little over a month.”
“A month?! Girl, that’s not even a real dry spell.”
“Okay, well it is for me. And Shawn…” Willa sighed, rubbing her temples with her forefingers. “He’s just had some bad experiences with women. Tourists who use him and lose him, basically. He doesn’t do casual anymore. We talked about it, realized we want different things, and decided to stay friends.”
“And how’s that working out?” Amanda asked, a knowing glint in her eye.
Willa deadpanned, “The other day, he saw me hurt myself and fireman-carried me out of the water before tending to my wounds. I had to take, like, ten cold showers afterward.”
Amanda laughed, then looked at Layla.
“You know where we should go?”
Layla’s eyes widened, then she closed them and tipped her head back.
“Please don’t say what I think you’re going to say.”
Amanda’s devilish smile grew.
“Flora-Bama,” she said.
Layla groaned.
“The club?” Willa asked, crinkling her brows. “The tourist spot? Why?”
“You need casual sex.”
“I don’t know how I feel about a one-night stand,” Willa said. “I’ve never done that before. That’s why I wanted to try it with Shawn. I know him. I trust him.”
“Okay, well maybe you can dance up on some hot tourists and make out with one to scratch the itch.”
Willa wasn’t sure if that would help or make things worse, but she figured she’d give it a try.
“Alright, let’s do it,” she said.
Amanda smirked.
“Let’s get you some sex.”
14
Bras hung from the ceiling and tourists were packed tightly into the beach-front club of Flora-Bama. Willa had been here before. In college, she and a few girlfriends came down for Spring Break and spent most of their days here—and a few godforsaken nights. But that was years ago.
Fortunately, she didn’t feel out of place. There were people of all ages at the club—one group was celebrating a twenty-first birthday, another celebrating a bachelorette party, and another group of women that had to be in their fifties. When they’d arrived, Amanda immediately ordered the three of them Bushwackers, a dangerous drink made with five different types of alcohol and chocolate ice cream, even though it only tasted like a chocolate milkshake if you’d had enough to drink. Willa sipped on hers and took in the view around her. The bass thumped loudly—some pop song she vaguely recognized—and people were swaying to the tune of the music.
“So what now?” Willa shouted over the music to Amanda.
“Pick one.”
“What?”
“Pick a guy you want to hook up with.”
Willa bit her lip, then turned back toward the dance floor, scanning through the crowd of people. Finally, her eyes landed on a guy that didn’t remind her of Leo or Shawn. He was about 5’10”, if she had to guess, and had a buzz cut, a sharp jawline, and tattoos all over his arms. He was wearing shorts and an unbuttoned Hawaian shirt, showcasing his abs.
“Nice,” Amanda said, following her eyes. “Solid choice. He’s definitely a tourist. Won’t be calling you tomorrow trying to take you home to mom.”
Willa chuckled. “Okay, so what’s next, O Wise One?”