Seas and Greetings by Julie Murphy & Sierra Simone

Author:Julie Murphy & Sierra Simone [Murphy, Julie & Simone, Sierra]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2024-07-09T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

Today was our last excursion day, and it was a very special excursion, because it also happened to be an excursion night, spent at an exclusive resort composed of thatched villas, mountain-framed beaches, and small pools of shimmering cyan. As the busy day of zip-lining and touring historic Mazatlán came to a close, I retreated back to the villa I would share with Krysta, successfully tracked Bailey’s location to the resort bar and received a proof-of-life selfie, and then kicked off my shoes and walked down the villa’s shallow steps right onto the beach. The sand was soft under my feet as I made my way toward the moon-tinseled waves.

I could feel Krysta behind me, but she didn’t speak, didn’t try to stop me. Just bent down, rolled up her pant legs, and joined me in standing where the waves could kiss our ankles and lick up our calves.

“We’ll be home in two days,” I said, not sure why I was saying it. “It feels surreal. Like the whole week has been on fast-forward.”

“It reminds me of a wedding,” Krysta replied. “Months and months of planning, and somehow the event is over in the blink of an eye.”

“Have you ever had a wedding before?” I asked curiously, and she laughed.

“No, no. But I have clients who have.”

I looked out at the water, at the place where the dark waves and the dark sky became the same thing, differentiated only by the slices of reflected moonlight on the sea. “Have you ever wanted a wedding? To get married, I mean?”

I wasn’t sure why I said this either—if I wanted this to be the kind of conversation you had with a new friend or the kind of conversation you had with a new lover. I just knew that I wanted to know. I wanted a glimpse at all those cards she held so close to her chest.

She swished her feet in the water a moment before answering. “Yes, I’ve wanted it. I want it still. Maybe not the big magazine-worthy weddings my clients have, but the rest, the vows and the dancing. A tall cake with different flavors in every tier. A honeymoon in a place where they put rose petals on the bed.”

“So . . . you haven’t met the right person yet?” I asked, knowing I was being nosy now and not caring. I was too curious. Being hookup only for . . . oh, sixteen years now meant that I’d met plenty of queer people who didn’t find the idea of marriage appealing or remotely interesting. But it sounded like Krysta did want that, and it made me wonder what had stood in the way. Family? Internalized shame? The narcissistic hellmouth that was dating in the greater LA area?

Krysta didn’t seem bothered by the cross-examination, but her voice was pensive when she answered. “You might have guessed this already, but being a bodyguard doesn’t leave a lot of room for romance. For the last five years, my job has been babysitting a brokenhearted pop star while he refused to leave Malibu.

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