IRIS
Morning in the jungle doesn’t arrive quietly.
It crashes in all at once, sound first, then light, then heat. Birds scream their opinions into the canopy. Insects hum like live wires. Sunlight slants through the window we forgot to cover before we finally fell asleep. I blink against the bright rays and roll onto my side to escape them, straight into Julian.
He’s sprawled on his back, sheet tangled low around his hips, one arm flung over his eyes like the sun offends him. There’s a faint crease between his brows, even in sleep, like his mind refuses to fully stand down.
I smile before I can stop myself.Last night.
My body is sore in places I didn’t even know had muscles. What we did was hot and dirty, and so good. I study the man lying next to me. The man who’s captured my heart, but can never know how deeply I feel for him.
The man I’ll never see again once I leave this island. I need to get back home safely, but a part of me wishes it will take a while. But the longer I stay, the harder it’s going to be to leave Julian.
I trace the line of his shoulder with my eyes. His chest rise and fall steadily. Even in sleep, his presence dominates the space he’s in. He’s here in my bed and I wish it could last forever.
I push the thought away and slip out of bed and into the bathroom, quietly closing the door behind me. After a quick shower, I tip-toe into the bedroom again. Julian is still asleep, but my stomach is growling so I put on some yoga pants and a thin long-sleeved t-shirt. Curtesy of Lucien, again.
When I reach the terrace off the main room, I find food already laid out. There’s fruit cut with surgical precision, strong coffee, fresh bread still warm. Of course, it is.
I’ve known him less than a day, but already I know Lucien doesn’t do anything halfway. Our host is absent, though, and I hesitate to eat without him. In the end, hunger wins, and I pile a plate high with food and sit down at the table.
Julian appears a few minutes later, freshly showered, hair still damp, expression locked back into controlled neutrality.
Nervously, I scrutinize his face. Is he regretting last night?
But then his eyes catch on me, softening just a fraction, and something tight in my chest eases. “Morning,” I say.
“Morning,” he replies, voice rougher than he probably intends. He grabs some food and sit down across from me.
We eat in companionable silence for a while as the jungle sounds grow around us. Somewhere, something large crashes through the undergrowth.
Julian speaks first. “We need to talk about getting you out.”
Inwardly I wince, wanting the real world to stay away just a little longer, but I know that’s not reasonable, so I nod. “I know.”
He doesn’t look at me when he continues. “Borders are tightening. Commercial flights are grounded. But there are… options.”
“Options,” I repeat. “You say that like you’re choosing a wine.”
His mouth twitches. “Force of habit.”
I tear off a piece of bread. “Occupational hazard?”
“Probably.”
The truth hangs between us, heavy and unspoken.When I leave San Isidro, we’re done.
No long-distance. No waiting. No promises. His work doesn’t allow for them, and mine...do I still have a job? Will this military coup derail my career before it had a chance to begin?
Julian clears his throat. “Right, options,” he says, interrupting my depressing thoughts. “I can’t involve the British military without blowing my cover. If possible, I’d like to avoid that.” His intense blue gaze pierces mine.
“Understood.”
“We could try to get you out on a boat, but I haven’t been in San Isidro long enough to establish reliable civilian contacts. I can’t guarantee your safety on a private vessel.” He studies me again.
I’m not sure what he expects, so I nod again. “Okay.”
“That leaves your country’s military. I have a contact or two we can reach out to. Lucien probably has some as well, if mine don’t work out.”
