She snorted in laughter, turning to look at him. “A working honeymoon?” Abi repeated incredulously, her brows arching in disbelief at the idea. “I didn’t even think a working honeymoon was an actual thing, what kind of idiot works on their honeymoon?” She took another sip of rum before passing the bottle to him. “I hope your wife is worth the lost sex, Ernest.”
He wasn’t wrong though; her story had got far more personal than she originally intended but she was kind of drunk and maybe a little bit too in love with the buzz of Cuba and the music. It was easy to get carried away in deeper thought for her when she had a few shots too many. If they were gonna finish the rest of the bottle, she might not be of sound enough mind at the end of the night.
“Oh dude, I fucking know. I’ll get that one day, right? I can make my own cake for now and eat it whenever I want with whoever I want, however I want. It’s gonna be amazing.” She grinned widely, leaning back a little against the rock.