Nicola leaned over the edge, arms folded across the railing. Her hair was a mess, and she was still catching her breath. She had never looked more beautiful. Smug, glowing, dangerous.
“Not my fault you threw yourself into the sea,” she said lazily. “Bit dramatic, don’t you think?”
“Please,” I teased. “That was graceful as hell.”
“You cannonballed.”
I splashed water in her direction. “You’re just mad you didn’t jump first.”
She disappeared from view for a beat, and I was about to call something smug when I heard her voice again.
“Catch me, DeLuca.”
I barely had time to react before she was flying over the edge, limbs tucked, squealing as she hit the water with a laugh that shot straight through my chest.
She popped up beside me, shaking water from her face and grinning like she forgot to hate me for five whole seconds.
“That was reckless,” I said, treading water closer to her. “Kind of proud of you.”
“That was fun.”
I drifted toward her slowly, letting the current pull us together. She was wearing the same blue bikini that made me want to buy her everything in that damn color. Her legs brushedmine. Her hands floated up to my shoulders. We were quiet for a moment, letting the sea hold us, our bodies close but not quite touching. The air between us sizzled anyway.
“I could get used to this,” I said softly, studying her face—the way her wet lashes clumped together, the way her lips curved up like she was trying not to smile. I leaned in and brushed my lips to hers, a teasing brush. Egging her on. ‘Kiss me back,’ it said. Her fingers slid up my neck into my hair, and she tugged me into her, her legs wrapping around me as she deepened the kiss.
“Used to what?” she asked after she was breathless.
“This. You. Being less terrifying.”
She laughed and dunked me under.
I came up sputtering, reaching for her with both hands. “Okay. That’s it.”
She shrieked and tried to swim away, but I caught her around the waist and pulled her back against me. She was slippery and squirming, laughing too hard to break free.
I held her there in the middle of the water, both of us breathless, and she finally settled, her back against my chest, her head resting on my shoulder.
“You know,” she said, barely audible, “It’s fun to be reckless.”
She turned, and I wrapped my arms around her more securely. “Good to let go once in a while.”
She snorted. “Maybe.”
“You look good like this,” I pointed out, water dripping down my nose as it almost touched her. I was holding her up, her legs wrapping around my core as if in reflex.
“Like what?”
“Free.”
I expected her to answer, make it a joke, or roll her eyes.
Instead, she closed them and tilted her head back, and I swore I felt her heart start to match mine, one quiet beat at a time. I wanted to stay here, floating in this moment. I liked allversions of Nicola, the scary fierce one, the sassy comeback one, and the slightly mean but flirty one. But this version, the quiet one, the soft one—I felt like it was a version of her she didn’t share easily. One she didn’t show the world. But she was starting to show me. I wanted to do whatever I could to make her feel like she could be this version with me, that she was safe to be herself.
Later, the boat swayed gently as it cut through the water, the golden afternoon sun wrapping us in warmth. Nicola and I were stretched out across the sun-warmed cushions at the bow, our legs tangled lazily, a breeze whispering over the waves as we began the slow trek back to the dock.
“Ready to babysit the cutest kid in the world?” I asked, glancing over at her, shielding my eyes from the glare. She didn’t answer right away. Her head was tipped back, resting on her hands behind her head, her eyes closed as the light brushed across her face. It wasn’t like her to be this still, this quiet.
When she spoke, her voice was softer than I expected. “You know…I’d never really been around kids before Gianna. I always thought they were loud and sticky and exhausting.”
