Taking a chance, I reach out and lightly grasp her wrist.
“Hey, you good?” I ask, my expression as neutral as I can make it. She pulls her hand back as if I’ve scalded her, and I let go immediately. Scanning my face, Molly’s eyes flick back and forth, as if she’s trying to determine whether my question is a trap.
“Uh…yeah?” she says, one brow raised in something between curiosity and confusion. Duncan, who had been briefly distracted by a passerby’s dog (I mean, really, this guy just has no clue what is going on at any given moment), places his hand on her shoulder.
“Ready to go, babe-a-licious?”
Molly and I cringe simultaneously.
“I’ll meet you back there,” she mutters. He shrugs, then jogs off to where the rest of the contestants are still hanging out. Her eyes drag back to mine. “What do you want?”
“I just wanted to check in,” I explain, unblinking. There’s a depth to our locked gaze that feels real. Like I’ve suddenlybreached a wall I’ve been trying to climb for a while now. “You seem…off.”
She blinks and then breaks our gaze, rolling her eyes and throwing her hair over her shoulder.
“I’m fine,” she snaps.
I scoff. “Just trying to help.”
“Well,don’t.” Her gaze is hot with fury when it lands on me again, and I shrink under its intensity. “I’m fine. Everything here? Fine. This whole situation? Also fine.”
“I get it,” I say, holding my hands up in defense, overwhelmed by the sudden shift in demeanor. She stiffens, then looks away again, chewing the inside of her cheek.
“I’m sorry about the other night,” she finally says quietly. “I was drunk. I hope I didn’t break too many of his fucking plates.”
“It’s fine,” I say, thrown by this flash of earnestness after such hostility. I’m getting emotional whiplash. Suddenly, I remember what I had wanted to ask her. “Look…do you mind not saying anything about?—”
She snorts and crosses her arms over her chest. “Yeah, whatever. Consider it forgotten, if you’ll forget about my little act of klutziness.”
“Sure. What broken plates?” I say with a subtle shrug, and I notice the side of her mouth twitch ever so slightly.
“Right, well—” Molly begins as she steps forward to leave, but she stubs her toe off the blunt end of a broken piece of sidewalk, launching herself into me and pushing me backward.
I think of only a few things as I topple.
Oh, holy shit, what the fuck?
But also:Is Molly Spencer trying to kill me, or is she seriously just this klutzy?
And finally:I’m going to be concussed tonight for my date with Nolan, aren’t I?
Thankfully, my fall is broken by one of the bushes.
And then the camera and tripod fall directly on top of me.
I’m not expecting to see Nolan leaning casually against my stateroom door, as I turn the corner from the elevator area into the crew corridor. My room is halfway down the lengthy hall, almost exactly in the middle of the ship, so I have a long way to go before I get to him.
Fortunately for him, he notices me right away, so I can’t spend my thirty-second walk sneaking a nice, long peek at his tall, lean body and muscled forearms.
Unfortunately for me, that means prolonged and awkward eye contact as I trudge along the carpeting in my sandy shoes, givinghimthe opportunity to really take in my sweaty, filthy mess of an appearance.
When I get closer, though, I can see him squinting, and I realize he isn’t wearing his glasses.
Which means he doesn’t notice the sad state I’m in until I’m up close.
Only then does he say, “Oh, Chloe—what happened to your, uh…”
“Entire body?” I grumble, picking a leaf out of my hair. He just nods, clearly trying to contain a laugh. “That would be our lovely friend Molly, whom you met last week.”
