This time, Tollin looked like he was trying not to laugh. “He flipped his Jet Ski a couple times, then turned around and went back to the docks.”
My eyes widened, and I leaned forward. “You could have come to find us if these assholes abandoned you.”
“Excuse you,” Gracie said. “We did no such thing. Once we realized that he was gone, we turned around and went back. The guide didn’t even care. He got paid before we started.”
Tarik hunched his shoulders. “I was mostly embarrassed. I’m not really a thrill-seeker.”
Ryan made a startled noise. “Wait. Weren’t you, like, a roadie?”
Tarik immediately looked offended. “A security guard. The head of security.”
“Oh, shit. Sorry.” Ryan shot me a look. “That’s different, right?”
Tarik rolled his eyes, and I leaned over to steal a quick kiss and answer before Tarik could say something mean. “It’s very different.”
Ryan hummed with a small smile, then turned back to Tarik. “Wait. But that sounds more dangerous than a roadie.”
“Sweetheart, I’m not one of the Beatles. People barely knew who I was.” I stroked a touch along the back of his hand. “His job was keeping teenagers from trying to sneak into our dressing rooms to get naked.”
“That’s a lie. There were a lot of people trying to do a lot of things. But the perpetrators trying to sneak past lines and barrierswereteenagers,” Tarik said with a shrug. “I didn’t feel particularly threatened. Plus, Atlas was always a softie and always took selfies with them before they were escorted off the premises.”
“Oh my god, you are a marshmallow,” Gracie said, pointing her fork at me.
I shrugged. I had no shame about it. If they went to all that trouble of getting permanently banned, the least they could get was a damn photo. “It never bothered me. I kind of wish I’dbeen that passionate about something as a kid. I took up guitar to keep myself busy. Writing music came naturally, but it never felt like…” I struggled to find the right words. “All the songs that made me feel something weren’t songs that fit the band. What I did write for Tender Fracture wasn’t for me. It was for the kids who came to our show. I didn’t really have much passion until recently.”
Ryan slid his fingers between mine. “Me either. I obviously love history?—”
“To the point he used to annoy the shit out of me on shift,” Gracie said with a small smile.
He flipped her off and grinned. “But it’s not like I feel something fulfilling my soul standing in front of a bunch of kids who would rather be doing literally anything else than sitting in my classroom.”
“What about now?” Gracie asked.
I frowned at her. “Now?”
She pointed her fork from me to Ryan. “Yeah. This whole thing is moving so fast. And I’m not judging,” she said when Ryan sucked in a breath to tell her off. “I’m just saying this doesn’t happen without some kind of passion.”
“Maybe that’s their business,” Hasan said quietly.
Gracie’s cheeks darkened. “Sorry. I’m doing it again.”
Ryan’s shoulders sagged, and he squeezed my fingers. “It’s fine. I get it. And…I guess I didn’t really stop to think about it. But there’s not really words for how all this feels.”
“And if you?—”
“Gracie,” Hasan said, stopping her words.
She bit her lip, then sighed. “Fine.”
This time, Ryan didn’t tell her it was okay. This time, he nodded and leaned a little closer to me as the server approached to take our salad plates so we had room for our mains.
The conversation switched when the food arrived. Gracie talked about her job and her wedding. My brother talked a little about the upcoming birth of his child and how he wanted to take his wife to the island once the kids were a little older.
Gracie floated the idea of making it a family trip, and I could see something shift in Ryan. I just couldn’t tell if it was good or bad. “I mean, this is nice, right? All of us here like this? And I wouldn’t mind if kids came around.”
Tarik looked happy, and so did Tollin. But Ryan was tense again.
“There’s plenty to do,” Gracie went on. “We could start our own family traditions! Sitting by the sea, having steak and white wine?—”
