‘Whatever you say,’ I say in a sing-song voice. ‘But to answer your question, sure. I like being on top anyways.’ I smile at him sweetly, feeling proud of myself, and make my getaway, scooting by him and towards the benches.
‘I’m sure you do,’ he calls after me, his voice lilting into unknown territory. As I process the double entendre I perfectly set him up for, heat blazes through my body. I can feel his gaze on me as I walk away.
Sweat prickles the backs of my knees. I remind myself that Hugh’s attention isnota good thing. If he finds out I’m not Millie and reports it, anything I find on this trip will no longer be credible.
I shake the thought out of my head. We haven’t even broached the subject of the wrasse yet, I reassure myself. Plus, he’s already admitted that he has to focus on work. He may not ever want to discuss it. But my stomach feels unsettled. By the time I sit down on the benches, I can still feel the way his chest felt against mine when our bodies collided. My heart rate hasn’t slowed all the way down yet. First Miguel and now Hugh. I haven’t been that close to a man that I wasn’t dating in two years.
‘Focus, Andi,’ I say under my breath. I check my phone. Millie’s surgery is in sixteen hours. I need to remember what’s important.
Chapter 8
Urgency overtakes our small boat when Aaron starts instructing Miguel and Vanessa where to drop anchor. Suddenly, the three of them all seem to be yelling, while the rest of us stare at them, open-mouthed. They move in unison, calling out commands I don’t understand, and gently our boat lurches to a stop. Waves rock us gently up and down.
We stopped seeing other boats about a half-hour ago. Now I can barely make out specks on the horizon, it’s just us and the open ocean. Millie will be happy to hear they really do deliver on their promise and get to the most remote reef entry points possible. As soon as the anchor is dropped, Aaron plops happily back into his chair, and Vanessa starts rolling up the sails, barking at everyone to start preparing for our first dive. Miguel has given me a very comprehensive briefing on the equipment, and I’m feeling infinitely more confident than I did when we set sail.
I go below deck to change, which turns into a flexibility challenge, given how little room I have in our cabin to wrangle my clothes off and my suit on. Hugh’s stuff isn’t on a bunk bed yet, and I wonder if he decided he would get more rest sleeping under the stars. I pop on my bikini, which is a collection of simple black triangles that cover me up as much as a bikini can. I wonder if I should have brought a one-piece instead, but as soon as I see Pippa and Natalie my worry fades. Pippa’s in a flowery bikini with a stylish square neck and high-waisted bottoms. I make a mental note to ask her where she got it. She’s also sporting a cute straw hat. Natalie’s in a strappy one-piece that criss-crosses across her chest and around her waist, pulling her in and pushing her up in all the right places. I stare at her, wondering how on earth she managed to get that on in the tiny cabins we have to change in.
‘She’s like Harry Houdini,’ I imagine quipping to Millie. I’m desperately trying to remember everything that happens so that I can tell her when I return, even jotting some notes down in the journal she left with me, but I already know I’ll forget things. I can’t wait to tell her Hugh Harris was on the boat. I don’t know if she’ll be mad or manically happy – probably both, and probably dependent on whether or not I spot the butterfly wrasse.
Soon, the boys have changed into suits as well and, as much as I don’t want to admit it, Hugh’s forearm was a pretty good indicator of what the rest of him looks like. I try not to stare as he rubs sunscreen on his face. His abs ripple as he maintains his balance on the rocking boat. He’s strong. All over. Like a vegan who does an Iron Man every year. He’s sporting a deep tan, which I still find incredibly annoying. Why did I have to come to Australia’s summer during Ohio’s winter?
‘Sunscreen’s over here!’ Vanessa yells, pointing to a bag full of bottles of sunscreen she’s carried up to the captain’s room. Hugh looks up towards Vanessa and catches my eye. He looks at the bottle in my hand and smirks. I wince at the memory of trying to slather it over my shoulders myself. Thankfully, Pippa is nearby to help me cover my back.
‘I saw you talking to Miguel,’ she says, while she rubs on sunscreen. ‘He’s cute!’
I laugh. Pippa reminds me of Millie, always on the lookout for something fun to talk about.
‘He is cute,’ I admit. ‘But being nice is his job. And, anyways, I’m here for work,’ I say definitively, hoping if I say it enough times out loud, it’ll crystallise in my brain. The only thing I am here for is the butterfly wrasse.
Andrew asks Pippa for help before she can say anything else, and I take the opportunity to duck downstairs for a moment of peace.
I need to reset my focus before our first dive. I squeeze past the tiny kitchen and the table that is bolted to the floor. I make my way down the narrow hallway, almost bumping my head on the ceiling. Hugh’s bag is now resting on a lower mattress. It’s a sleek navy duffel bag. I resist the urge to peek inside it, and instead, grab for my phone.
I stare at the screen blankly, thinking about my sister. If she was here she would be making a joke, probably one at Derek’s expense, and her laughter would ease my nerves. I scroll through my camera roll to find a selfie she sent me right after she dropped me off at the airport. She’s giving the camera a thumbs-up, beaming. I try to channel her positive energy.
I open the book of notes she gave me quickly and review what she’s written down about Treasure Cove, our first dive sight. The last sighting of the butterfly wrasse was in 2017, on the west side of the reef.
‘Have fun!’ she’d written in big letters. ‘It’s your first dive! ENJOY IT. And don’t use up your oxygen too quickly, then they’ll know you’re a rookie ;)’
A sharp knock on the door startles me so much that I drop the notebook.
‘I’m busy,’ I call out, picking up the notebook and shoving it back into my backpack as fast as I can.
‘It’s me,’ Hugh says loudly. Then he coughs. ‘Hugh.’
I roll my eyes. ‘Come in,’ I say, crossing my arms across my chest. ‘I was just leaving.’
‘Great.’ Hugh sighs, stepping inside.
I turn to leave, but Hugh has blocked the exit. He’s bending over his duffel bag, clearly looking for something. A wave gently rocks the cabin and the muscles on his back tighten as he steadies himself. A pair of plaid boxers spill out as he searches for whatever he’s looking for and he stuffs them back in with such haste that I can’t help but smile. He keeps pulling out clothes and setting them on the bed. The room starts to fill with his smell as he unpacks, woodsy and grassy, and I take a deep whiff of it, relishing a chance to not smell saltwater, mildew, or sunscreen.
It’s the first time we’ve been in our room at the same time, and the standing room is so small that we’re practically touching. I shamelessly let my gaze linger on his butt, which I hate to admit is really nice. The temperature in the room feels like it’s risen five degrees in two minutes. Somehow, Hugh is blocking my way for the third time in the past hour. I’m totally stuck as I wait for him to finish whatever he’s doing, but I realise that I don’t really mind.
‘Don’t you have somewhere to be?’ he mumbles.
‘Well, I can’t really get by you, can I?’ I motion towards the door, which he has completely blocked with his body.
‘Aha!’ Hugh says, pulling out a small bottle of eye drops. He stands up, the crown of his head grazing the ceiling, and I watch his six-pack ripple.
