Everything told me it didn’t happen this way. That it couldn’t.
That love like this wasn’t lasting.
But when I wrapped my arms around his middle and took a deep breath of the scent that was so uniquely him, I thought that maybe it could be. Not the love a couple shared after being together and growing together for years, but the first tiny, flickering flames of what could be.
“I want to stay here,” Atlas murmured, setting the shell aside and pressing his hand on top of mine.
“I think you’d regret that after the first big storm.”
“Don’t be logical. Let me have my fantasy.”
I laughed and leaned harder against him. “Fine. Have your fantasy. But…” I hesitated. We’d both been pretty careful not totalk about the future—or what was going to come after all this. Only, I wasn’t sure I wanted to finish the week without some kind of idea whether or not he wanted to see me again.
I could guess, and I’d probably be right.
But I was also afraid.
“But what?” he pressed when I didn’t speak again.
I opened my mouth, then closed it and took a deep breath. “It’s not important.”
“Yeah, that sounds like a lie.”
I bowed my head against him and closed my eyes. “You have your fantasy. For now, let me have this little lie.”
“Only if you promise we will talk about it later.”
“Deal.”
He shifted away from me, but only to turn so he could take my face between his hands and kiss the breath straight out of my lungs. This moment, this space between us, felt like everything.
It felt like family. And home. And a future.
It had hope and promise, speaking for me in the silence while I was too afraid to speak for myself. But I couldn’t get the words out—not to ask if he felt the same, and not to ask if he would be willing to try.
Sixteen
ATLAS
“Tellme you at least did something fun today,” Tollin said, pushing his salad around his plate with the tines of his fork.
I stared at him flatly. “I’m on a tropical island. Everything is fun.”
Tarik shuddered. “Not everything.”
At that, Gracie burst into laughter. “Yeah. He ate shit so hard today.”
I blinked. “What?”
“Let’s just say that Jet Skis are not for me.” His voice was low, drawn, and, if I didn’t know him better, pissed off.
“To be fair,” Hasan said, “that guy was a terrible guide.”
Ryan lifted a brow at him. “I thought you were doing kayaks.”
“They had a Jet Ski option,” Tollin said, looking apologetic. “I thought it would be a good idea. Tarik disagreed.”
“I did. And I was right. The water was choppy from the storm, which was unsuitable for beginners,” Tarik said with a sniff. “He said it was easy to learn if I just drove in a few circles. He said he was going to go slow so I could keep up.”
