Soon after, I jumped in, slicing into the sea with a splash and a shock of cold that stole the breath from my lungs.
Owen followed and we swam side by side, drifting from the chaos on the boat toward the quieter edges of the beach. The others’ voices faded into background noise as a secret cove opened before us—hidden from view, half-shaded, a perfect little untouched strip of sand inside it.
I scrambled up first, breathless and grinning, heading toward a soft yellow rock. I barely turned before Owen’s arms circled me from behind, turning me, lifting me off the ground, and spinning me around.
“If I throw up, it’ll be all your fault,” I gasped, laughing against his lips as he kissed me.
“If you do, I’ll hold your hair up for you,” he said, suddenly serious.
“What?” I said. “I’m not really going to throw up.”
“Not that. Just a thought,” he half-mumbled, easing me back to my feet.
“What thought?”God, is he the queasy kind?
He held my gaze. “In sickness and in health, Rio. I want that with you.”
Ifeltthe gust of air that I inhaled in surprise.
“Why are you so shocked?”
“Um ... what are you ... what are you saying?”
“That I want it all with you—in sickness, in health, in better and worse, and whatever life brings us.”
I didn’t say anything. Couldn’t. My heart was too full, my breath too short. The sun, the sea, the feel of his skin against mine—it all blurred at the edges as I looked at him.
He was still holding me, still flushed from the water and the laughter, still too good to be real.
My fingers curled into the nape of his neck. Then, wordlessly, I kissed him.
Not the playful, smiling kind we’d been stealing all day. This was deeper. Slower. My whole heart behind it. And the words that would no doubt stick in my throat if I tried to utter them.
I hoped this would be enough for now.
Soon enough we were gripping each other, and I was dizzy in a way that had nothing to do with motion sickness.
“We shouldn’t,” I mumbled when Owen slipped his hands under the edge of my bikini bottom, his fingers grazing skin he already knew too well.
“Tell me to stop, and I will,” he rasped.
Instead, I kissed him again, hot, urgent, until we were tangled limbs and breathless promises, the sound of the sea our only witness.
I BLURTED IT OUT, BUTI meant every word.
I wanted it all with her.
Two mornings later, I kissed her before I left. She was barely awake, one arm thrown above her head, the silver charm resting against her chest. I pressed my lips there too, over the heartbeat I already knew.
I walked out, knowing I wouldn’t touch her again until after the quarterfinal match. Team rule. Abstain the day before. No distractions. No exceptions.
Now I was on the pitch, the roar of the crowd louder than my own pulse, and I knew she was watching.
I spotted the banner before I saw any of them.WONDER WHEATON, painted in bold red letters, flanked by glittery stars. Chloe was probably responsible for the glitter. Simon definitely came up with the idea. Rio, I’d bet anything, drew the hearts that stood for the ‘O’s.
Walter waved his free hand.
They were all there. My family.
