The laughter hushes off into something more serious.
My heart is pounding all of a sudden. Maybe it’s the rum, maybe it’s the way Lockie glances at me, like he’s looking for permission, or apologising or… I don’t know.
‘I’m waiting…’ she sings.
Lockie glances at me, eyes searching. It’s quick, but it’s there, like a silent question.
I shrug, pretending I don’t care. My stomach, however, is twisting itself into knots. And this time I don’t think the rum is to blame.
He leans toward her. Honey tilts her head, hair spilling over one shoulder. The firelight glows against her skin. Somehow this moment seems much more romantic – perfect even. He does it, he kisses her neck, slowly but confidently, for long enough that even Camilla lets out a whistle. I hate that I notice how good he is at it. Even watching it looks good. Oh, God, I’m jealous. I’m actually jealous.
Honey giggles, but her eyes dart to me, watching my reaction. I take another swig of my rum, trying to play it cool, but I’m jealous.
‘Okay,’ Honey says with a sigh. ‘Just as good as it looked when you did it to Cleo.’
Everyone laughs. Everyone except me.
I take another drink, hoping it will flush the feeling away.
Tony grabs the bottle next, spins it. It slows… and… it lands on me.
‘You’re up, Cleo,’ he says, smirking. ‘Truth or dare?’
‘If everyone else is choosing dare then: dare,’ I reply – also, if I choose truth, someone might ask me if that made me jealous, so I guess I’m choosing dare for the foreseeable.
Tony leans back, a grin spreading across his face.
‘I dare you and Lockie to kiss,’ he says. ‘Properly kiss.’
Lockie looks at me, serious now.
‘You don’t have to,’ he tells me. ‘I’ll do your forfeit.’
‘If Cleo won’t kiss you, then you have to kiss Honey,’ Tony replies.
The problem is, I want to kiss Lockie. I really want to. And I definitely don’t want to watch him kiss Honey.
I know, we’ve got a past, and it’s hard to imagine a future – not just together, but at all. We’re all stuck here so… what’s to lose? If kissing him, just to see how it feels, makes me feel a tiny bit better, then why not?
‘Okay,’ I say, trying for casual. ‘It’s just a game.’
Lockie moves closer, slow enough that my heart starts hammering. The fire crackles next to us, the heat warming my skin – well, it’s that or the anticipation. He pauses, inches away, giving me a chance to back out.
I don’t.
When his lips touch mine, everything else just… fades. I can forget we’re on the island, that we’re stuck here, that we have a crowd of people watching us. His hand cups my jaw with a tenderness that melts me and his lips taste so good, like rum and coconut. I can’t resist meeting his tongue with mine. I think I make a sound – something between a sigh and a laugh, and Lockie smiles against my mouth. Like it’s another one of our jokes.
It’s not a TV kiss. It’s not for the cameras. It’s real. Too real.
When we finally pull apart, no one breathes for a second.
‘Okay, my next dare better be to do that,’ Honey jokes as she fans herself with both hands.
Ozzy laughs, but there’s an edge to it. I try to laugh too, but my hands are shaking almost as much as my knees are. Lockie sits back down next to me, his thigh pressing against mine, and I’m terrified he’s going to feel it. How much that got to me.
The game goes on – because of course it does – but I can’t quite think straight. The bottle spins, the dares get bolder, and the laughter gets louder. No one else kisses but, through it all, Lockie and I keep finding ways to brush against each other. It’s a knee, a shoulder, a glance that lingers just long enough. The tension between us is undeniable now.
Ozzy has to strip down and run into the sea yelling, ‘I’m the king of the island!’ – which he does, and loves. If we did have a king of the island, it would most definitely be him. I’m not sure who the queen would be though.
