His sanity might not survive it.
Chapter Five
Lily had officially reached the end of her rope.
She'd reorganized her toiletry bag twice, flipped through Alex's dog-eared field guides, and counted exactly thirty-seven planks in the cabin floor. The ancient wall clock ticked at half-speed, mocking her with each sluggish second.
"Day three of island exile," she muttered to her camera, propped on a stack of Alex's notebooks. "Still no WiFi, still no cell service, and I've officially hit the boredom wall. Send help. Or a boat. Preferably a yacht with a hot tub."
The camera's unblinking eye offered no sympathy. Without the ability to upload, recording felt pointless—like performing to an empty theater. But future Lilywould thank present Lily for documenting this disaster.
"My roommate is a grumpy marine biologist who thinks influencers are the scourge of the earth." She leaned in conspiratorially. "Though between you and me, he's kind of cute in a 'hasn't-seen-civilization-in-years' academic way. Heavy emphasis on 'grumpy.'"
She clicked off the camera and flopped back onto the lumpy couch.
The silence pressed in—distant bird calls, the eternal whisper of waves, nothing else. Lily thrived on constant stimulation: meetings, photoshoots, editing sessions, comment sections demanding her attention. The stillness of Ilot Serenite felt almost hostile in its peaceful rhythm.
"That's it." She sprang to her feet. "If I stay here another minute, I'll start talking to coconuts."
Decision made, she changed into her favorite hot pink bikini—the one that had garnered her most-liked beach post ever—and slipped on Alex's oversized tennis shoes. If she was stuck here, she might as well explore.
And if exploration happened to lead her to wherever Dr. Crankypants was conducting his preciousresearch... well, that was just efficient use of limited entertainment options.
The sun beat down as Lily followed footprints in the sand, leading away from the cabin and around a rocky outcropping. The beach here was wilder than the tourist-friendly stretches she typically frequented—no cabana boys or beachfront bars, just untamed beauty that even her professional eye found arresting.
She rounded the bend and paused, shielding her eyes against the glare.
About fifty yards ahead, Alex knelt at the edge of a sprawling tide pool, his attention fixed on something beneath the water's surface. He'd stripped down to navy blue swim shorts, and Lily found herself momentarily transfixed.
Well, well, well. Looks like someone's been hiding some assets under all that khaki.
His back was a landscape of lean muscle, shoulders broader than she'd realized, skin bronzed by days in the tropical sun. This version of Alex moved with confidence, completely in his element—nothing like the socially awkward academic fumbling with his coffee mug that morning.
"Hello, Professor Beefcake," she murmured. "Plot twist."
She picked her way across the rocky shore, deliberately making enough noise that he'd hear her coming. True to form, Alex's shoulders tensed before he even turned around.
"Don't you have something better to do?" he asked without looking up.
"Nope." Lily popped the 'p' for emphasis. "That's kind of the problem with being stranded on a deserted island. There’s literally nothing to do.”
She hopped onto a flat rock near his tide pool, dangling her feet into the warm shallow water. "So, whatcha doing? Counting fish? Talking to crabs? Having a deep philosophical conversation with seaweed?"
Alex sighed—the sound so resigned it almost made her laugh. "I'm cataloging species diversity. It's delicate work that requires concentration."
His eyes flicked up, widened slightly at her bikini, then snapped back to his notebook with impressive speed.
"Sounds riveting," Lily said, swishing her feet. "Tell me more about these fascinating tide pools. Do they have names? Personalities? Favorite colors?"
"Are you going to keep talking regardless of what I say?"
"Absolutely. I'm experiencing severe social media withdrawal. You're getting all my tweets, status updates, and Instagram captions live and unfiltered."
He muttered something that sounded like a prayer for patience.
"Fine," he said finally. "If you're going to stay, at least try not to disturb anything. These ecosystems are incredibly fragile."
"Scout's honor." Lily held up three fingers. "Though, full disclosure, I was never actually a scout. Too many bugs, not enough air conditioning."
