The Shippers(27)

Ten


OBVIOUSLY, I DISAGREED.

While we shuffled forward in the snaking checkin line, I explained all about imprinting, and how it wasn’t just for ducklings, and how my problem all along was that I’d accidentally imprinted on Finn. I recounted all the information I’d gathered from both Ashley’s expert testimony and the internet. And even though Cooper had known about my epic, endless Thorn Birds–style crush at the time—because everybody knew, except for Finn himself—I told Cooper something he didn’t know.

That Finn had been my first kiss.

“Finn was your first kiss?” Cooper asked, seeming baffled.

“Do you want me to tell you about it?” I asked.

“Absolutely not.”

I shrugged. “The point is, it happened on the same day that my dad really let me down in an epic way, and if you’ve read any Freud—”

“I haven’t.”

“—you’ll recall that parental relationships are, like, a huge thing.”

I hadn’t read any Freud, either, to be honest.

I went on, undaunted. “And so the perfect storm of all that excitement mixed with all that abandonment on the exact same day made an emotional lightning flash that bound me to Finn Turner and Finn Turner only—forever.”

Ashley had explained it much better.

But Cooper didn’t buy any of it. He said, and I quote, “That’s ridiculous.”

“It’s science,” I insisted.

“It’s bullshit,” Cooper said.

And so we just kept arguing.

We argued about it all the way through the line.

And then we argued up the gangway.

And then we argued as we journeyed into the bowels of the ship to look for the cabin I’d be sharing with Cousin Harmony.

We argued so hard, I barely noticed the boarding process.

We argued so hard, I forgot to keep looking for Finn.

But here’s what I do remember: I remember arriving at my cabin and finding a party-store flowered lei hanging on the door handle. I remember moving it aside to use my key and then pushing open the door. And then I remember my eyes getting blasted with the sight of Cousin Harmony and some random dude—tangled up like octopi on the tiny built-in desk in our windowless room … making out.



* * *



WANNA KNOW HOW my entire body reacted to that?

With a hearty Hell, no.

I leapt back out of the room on pure instinct—turning as I yanked the door closed behind me and landing chest-to-chest against both Cooper and his tweed vest.

Sorry—gabardine.

The impact slammed Cooper back against the hallway wall behind us—and then me into him. For a second, we were pressed against each other like that, face-to-face, while our brains tried to catch up.

“What just happened?” Cooper finally asked as I pushed myself back onto my own two feet.

“Harmony was in there,” I said, still a little breathless.

“Okay,” Cooper said, like Not that shocking.

“In there,” I amended, “and hooking up with some guy.”

Now that was a little shocking. “Already?” Cooper said, checking his watch. “We just boarded.”

“Maybe they met in the checkin line.”

“What do you mean by ‘hooking up’?”

“What do you think I mean?”

“Were they naked?”

“I’ve already blocked it out, so we’ll never know.”

At that, the door to our cabin opened, and Harmony stepped out—her clothing ill-buttoned and a bright welt of a hickey blooming on her neck. She had dark hair, a heart-shaped face, cat-eye eyeliner, and Elizabeth Taylor vibes.

“Oh, hey,” Harmony said.

There was a guy out of focus behind her, buttoning his shirt.

“Hey, Harmony,” I said.

“I guess you’re here,” she said.

“I guess you are, too.”

“Oh, I’m definitely here,” Harmony said, glancing back at her gentleman friend. Then she looked down at the flowered lei looped over the door handle. “You didn’t see the lei?”

“I saw it,” I said. “I just didn’t know it was yours.”

“It’s mine,” Harmony said.

“Ah. Well.” What to say? “It’s very pretty?”

“I’m using it like a sock,” Harmony said then.

Cooper and I glanced at each other.

“A sock?” I asked.

“You know. Like in college. If there’s a sock on the doorknob…?”

But I didn’t know. “Why would anyone put a sock on a doorknob?”

That’s when Cooper nudged me.

But too late. Harmony launched into a full explanation. “People put socks on doorknobs for their roommates if they’re having sex in the room and don’t want their roommate coming in and ruining everything. Like you just did.”

Oh.

“Why a sock, though?” I asked.

“I get it,” Cooper said. “It’s like a doorknob condom.”

I glanced sideways. “Please don’t ever say doorknob condom again.”

Cooper’s shrug was almost playful. “That just makes me want to say it more.”