“Let’s hope not.”
“But if something goes wrong and I’m not around when a snake bites you while you are in the water, you will drown.”
First an outhouse, then a freezing lake instead of a shower, and now killer sea urchins, and fucking snakes. Out of all living creatures, snakes—and Phill—were my least favorite. Soon, there wouldn’t be enough fingers to count reasons to despise this island. My eyes scanned the beach, my mind searched for a better subject, but it kept tripping over the snakes. What a stupid idea—getting bitten on purpose. I really hoped that the boat under the water in the bay was fixable, and I wouldn’t be here for long.
We sat in silence for countless heartbeats, my face warmed by the morning sun. I finally came up with a question. “Do you have a family in Atlanta?”
“I never knew my father.” Hunter stared ahead into the ocean. “My mother joined a hippie cult and left me when I was nine.”
“That sucks.” I frowned. “Who did you live with?”
“Edward and Annie.”
“I thought your uncle lived here?”
“Once I left for college, Annie divorced Edward, and he moved out here.” Hunter looked at me. “What about you? Any friends back in Miami?”
“I have a few friends. Well, acquaintances,” I said. My heart lurched, and I added, “Tina is my only real friend. She’s a large part of the reason I’m in this mess.”
Tina was a hand that reached down and pulled me back up—a little forcefully, perhaps, but she didn’t know any other way. One morning, she barged into my house and literally tackled me to the floor and pulled my sweats off. I thought she’d gone mad. Tina proclaimed she wasn’t leaving until I agreed to change my life. She wanted her friend back, and I’d turned into some rat that just sat in the house and only went out to get the mail once a week. I wasn’t even going grocery shopping anymore. Thanks to DoorDash and Instacart, everything was delivered to me. Dammit to hell, those convenient services.
We fell silent again, watching the sapphire water for a few minutes. Hunter glanced at me from time to time but said nothing. Then, at last, he rose to his feet. “Come on, Wonder Woman, I’ll show you my junk.”
I blinked a few times, suppressing a laugh. “Don’t you think we should have at least one proper date and maybe kiss first?”
He opened his mouth and then closed it. A flush rose on his face and he laughed and goddamnit that pulled on the strings of my soul.
“You know what I meant—the washed-up trash,” he clarified, offering me both hands.
“Let’s take a look at yourjunkthen.” I released a short, laughing breath and pressed my small palms into his large ones, my skin warmed at our contact. “It better be impressive.”
He smiled wide, his cheeks showcasing dimples. “I’ve never had any complaints.”
ChapterSeven
Aspotted brown bird with a rust-colored tail hurried ahead of us, occasionally picking in the sand, as we strolled for a few minutes along the beach until we reached the dock. At its end, the white side of the boat peeked from under the water, calm waves stroking it.
“How are you going to get it out?” I asked as we turned into the jungle, where the thick vegetation provided an instant cooling shade.
“Howam I? I think you mean we. You and I are partners, Wonder Woman,” Hunter said, moving his finger between us.
“If I’m Wonder Woman, does it make youmySteve Trevor?”
My dad was the geekiest Marvelite in the university and, hence, one of the most beloved professors on campus. He’d chat with students for hours about comics and went with them to comic cons a few times. So naturally, I was more into Marvel superheroes than any boy in my middle and high school. While all the girls plastered their bedrooms with boybands andTwilightposters, my walls were covered with Captain America and Thor (for obvious reasons).
Hunter’s lips pulled into a cheeky smile. “I’m impressed.”
I rolled my eyes. “Of course I know who her partner is.”And lover.
At that point, our eyes met and Hunter’s impish look, with a slightly lifted eyebrow, told me he had the same thought: those two had sex. Probably a very superhero-kind-of-great sex. And, for an unexplained reason, Hunter thinking the same thing shot sparks up my veins.
He averted his eyes before I did, “Wewill build a block and tackle, and then drag it onto the beach.”
Under a stretched tarp was a working bench with scattered tools and parts of the boat motor, closed canisters beneath it, wooden crates, heavy-duty plastic bins, ropes, and other stuff next to it that I couldn’t name. It reminded me of a ramshackle auto repair shop where I used to take my car when I was in high school. The place and its owner gave off a total serial killer vibe. Only the old man knew how to fix anything and didn’t charge much.
Hunter tapped his knuckles on the stacked wood beams near a pile of pulleys and cables. “We need more wood, but I have enough ropes and pulleys to drag theReely Nautito the beach. Then?—”
I snorted. “Another naughty?”
