A deep rumbling started in Alex’s belly.
Holy hell. The speed bump is about to launch into the stratosphere.
But it turned into loud, throaty laughter.
“What?” If I were his penis, I’d be mortified for showing up uninvited to a pool party.
“You’re allowed to breathe, you know.” His infuriating dimple made an appearance. “I apologize. Wholeheartedly. It was never my intention to make you uncomfortable. What I won’t apologize for is the fact that I find you wildly attractive, Moti. From the moment I saw you—your hands gripping the railing like a bird about to take its first flight. When you showed up in my cabin, I didn’t know how I was going to handle being so close to you. Then that dance I walked in on? I haven’t been able to get it out of my head. And now, with your body wrapped around mine. You have no idea what you feel like in my arms right now. But I get it. I know it’s Nikos you’re interested in.”
My brain was still trying to process wildly attractive.
I held a certain image of myself, and it didn’t always coincide with the mirror, let alone Alex’s words. A lot of times, the image wasn’t kind. Childhood taunts echoed in my head.
MoTi! MoTi! Fatty! Chubby!
I’d talked a big game on this trip. I figured I’d go after Nikos, he’d realize we had a connection, we’d fall in love, and live happily ever after. In reality, I felt inadequate around Nikos, I had to keep trying to be sexy, smart, fun, interesting. But with Alex, I was all those things effortlessly. No facade, no pretenses.
And yet, all the signs pointed to Nikos, from the moment I had been born. My natal chart said so, Ma Anga said so, Dolly said so. It was as if the Greek gods had orchestrated a cosmic game, put me in the center of it, and placed bets on what I would do.
This is who you’re supposed to be with,said Zeus and Hera, holding up a marble bust of Nikos. These two head honchos of Greek mythology threw their son off the top of Mount Olympus because they didn’t like the way he looked. You didn’t want to incur their wrath.
Aphrodite, Goddess of love, clapped her hands.Ah, but what you reallywantto do right now is kiss Alex, don’t you?You really have to watch this gal pal. It was her husband who’d been thrown off Mount Olympus, so if it’s happily-ever-after that you’re gunning for, proceed with caution.
Always listen to your mother, Hestia piped in. She was the goddess of family and domesticity. She deserved a lot of kudos. Not many of the gods practiced what they preached, but Hestia stuck to her guns, and probably listened to her mother. Hence, she remained a virgin.
Dionysus, the Greek deity of wine and ecstasy, raised his glass.Pffft. Eat, kiss, and be merry!Pirates once seized him, thinking he was too incapacitated to fight back. Dionysus filled their ship with vines and turned them into dolphins. Moral of the story? Don’t mess with a Greek god even when he’s drunk. Also, he gave the kind of advice you could really get onboard with.
Back on earth, I was still clinging to Alex and still confused as hell. On one hand, my insides were clamoring for his touch. On the other, was the legacy I was supposed to fulfill. Was it fair to write Nikos off, based on one night in Mykonos? He’d brushed me off to cater to Olympia Aravani, but celebrities expected him to drop everything when they pulled into his club. He’d messaged me a few times since then, updating me on the situation. If that brawl hadn’t broken out—a brawl I’d initiated—Nikos would be on board and who knows where things would be heading between us? Would I ever be able to look Dolly in the eye if I wrote it off before it even began?
Alex took my silence for my admission. That it really was Nikos I was interested in. He let go of me, all signs of arousal tamed.
“You should head back inside,” he said.
I felt his eyes on me as he followed me out of the pool. Drying myself off, I turned to find him in his usual spot, gazing at distant lights.
“Are you coming in?” I asked.
“In a bit.” His towel was slung low around his hips, highlighting the V-shaped line below his abs. He wasn’t giving me the cold shoulder or sulking. Alex was too self-assured for that. He enjoyed his own company, the same way I did. That’s why he came up here every night—to think and dream.
I want to be one of those lights—somewhere by the water, where people can eat and share and connect. I want to be a link in a story that is as old as time.
Alex had a dream. He had talent and drive and ambition. Every night, under the light of the moon, he cast his net toward the heavens to catch the stars.
When I tiptoed into the galley the next morning, the first rays of light were just starting to fan out over the horizon. I paused at the door, watching Alex remove something from the oven. Steam rose and condensed on the windowpanes as the aroma of freshly baked bread filled the air. I smiled as he took off his shark mitts and placed them, teeth up, on the counter. He moved between the stove and counter, reaching for milk, scraping seeds off a vanilla bean, wiping his hands before mashing an avocado.
He cooked in an almost meditative state, earbuds in place, turning simple things into sacred rituals. Cracking an egg, grating cheese, boiling water. He picked through a basket of red peppers and held one up to the window, admiring the way the rising sun reflected off its skin.
I see you,he said to me. He saw things people missed, like how a pepper turns bright and beautiful when you hold it to the light, when you take the time to appreciate its wholeness—bruised bits and all. Alex didn’t just cook. He poured all his attention into each act, each ingredient. Passion flowed from his heart and through his hands, giving him the magic ability to transform food into emotion. Onions into chocolate. How could it leave anyone immune and unaffected?
I would’ve stood there watching him all day, if he hadn’t noticed me.
“Kalimera, Moti.” He unplugged his earbuds and poured me a cup of coffee. “You’re up early.”
“I won’t be around for the rest of the day or tomorrow, so I thought I’d come in early to help.” We were midway through the cruise, heading toward Santorini. Isabelle initially chose the picturesque island for the wedding, but Thomas’s father was born in Hydra, and he’d insisted they have the wedding there. Not to be outdone, Isabelle arranged for everyone to spend one night in a rented villa in Santorini, so she could still get the dream photos she wanted for her wedding album.
“No swimming lesson tonight.” I sipped my coffee and took over the cutting board. “And you’ll finally have the cabin to yourself.”
“I can finally watch porn in my bed?” Alex looked up from the breakfast cards. He was using a red sharpie to work his way through them.
