I arch a brow.
‘Why do I feel like you’re about to get me killed?’ I ask as I follow him.
He just gives that maddening, gorgeous half-smile.
‘Come find out.’
The others barely notice us slip away: Tony’s arguing with Camilla about who drank the last of the rum – he says she has a guilty look on her face, she says it’s just good genetics – and Ozzy is letting Honey pull his hair into cute little plaits, which makes me think he might be the one who polished off the rum. It’s the first time I’ve felt invisible in weeks, and it’s delicious. No eyes on us. No cameras. No producers. Just dark, warm air and the thud of my own pulse in my ears as I follow Lockie into the trees.
The jungle swallows the light quickly. The further we walk, the more the night wraps around us.
He doesn’t say anything for a while, just glances back every so often to check I’m still behind him, still following him. I pretend not to stare at the muscles shifting in his back, the way his shoulders move as he pushes through vines, but it’s captivating.
‘This better not end with me falling into a volcano,’ I say. ‘Or being snatched up by a net, like you see in the movies.’
‘No promises,’ he says. ‘But I’m pretty sure we’d know if there was a volcano – knowing our luck, probably via it erupting – and if you do get caught up in a net, it won’t be mine.’
I’m not so sure about that.
‘I feel like we know every inch of this island,’ I remind him. ‘So I don’t know where you could be taking me, unless you got that hatch open, and there really is a man with a bunch of food in there.’
He laughs, softly.
‘You’ll just have to trust me.’
‘Yeah, that’s famously one of my weaknesses,’ I reply.
The sound reaches me before the sight: water. Oh, we’re at the waterfall. I’ve been here before – not at night though, and it really is something.
The waterfall is silver in the moonlight, crashing into a pool of black glass below.
The rocks feel slick beneath my feet and the roar of water is so loud I have to lean closer to hear Lockie’s voice.
‘It’s better at night,’ he says, watching me instead of the view.
‘I can see that,’ I reply. ‘It’s beautiful.’
‘Come on,’ he says.
‘What, have you brought me here for a wash?’ I joke. ‘Do I smell that bad?’
‘If you do, we all do,’ he jokes. ‘But that’s not why, just trust me.’
He takes my hand – properly takes it, his fingers sliding between mine, gripping me firmly – and leads me towards the curtain of falling water.
‘We’re going under it?’ I check. ‘Because that is just the shower – are you trying to get me wet?’
I regret my choice of word the second he starts grinning.
‘Don’t say a word,’ I warn him.
‘I’m not trying to trick you into showering,’ he replies. ‘And we’re not going under it, we’re going through it.’
I cock my head curiously.
‘Through it?’ I check. ‘What’s through it?’
‘Wait and see,’ he replies.
