I let myself be dragged through the bar, feeling the sand sink beneath my sneakers, taking deep, restorative breaths. I might be a bad friend, leaving Eva to fly home by herself, but other than that, I feel no guilt. This is right.
Work won’t miss me, and if they do, I’ll just quit. I have my savings. The inheritance. The house will be fine sitting empty for a few more weeks.
What’s four weeks in the grand scheme of a whole life? This will be a memory I’ll carry until the day I die. Something to tell my grandkids about. I owe it to myself to see this through.
Mike is thrilled by the idea. The British volunteer, Victoria, welcomes me to the crew. This is really happening. I’m going to save the turtles.
Steven and I will just have to stay out of each other’s way for the next month.
Chapter 9
Steven
“Steven! How’s it hanging?” Mike seems even more upbeat than usual as he approaches the hammock outside my flat, interrupting a perfectly tranquil afternoon.
I sit up, shaking the hair out of my face and narrow my eyes at him. “S’all good. Sorry for bailing last night, but you were killing it with Victoria, mate! I didn’t want to stand in your way.”
“Of course.” Mike respects me too much to roll his eyes, but I can feel his disdain for my little white lie anyway.
“I was just tired. You know I don’t like big groups.” As I run through my list of the same old excuses, I realize Junie was right. I’m a curmudgeon.
Fuck, that ruins my five minute streak of not thinking about her today. I’ve been beating myself up all morning for letting her slip through my fingers like that. She’s like liquid sunshine. She’d practically thrown herself at me, and I ran away like a coward. What kind of self-defeating asshole have I become?
“Ah,” Mike nods sagely, clasping his hands behind his back. “So it had nothing to do with a gorgeous blonde? That, I could forgive. But this…”
His words poke the sore spot and I have to steel myself against flinching. “I don’t sleep with clients, Mike. You know that. The island is too small. I won’t risk our professional reputation.”
At least that’s what I’d told myself as I jacked off in the shower last night. It didn’t help. The cool water did nothing to soothe the burning in my chest when I thought of her teeth sinking into her bottom lip. I wanted to stick my thumb between them, open her up for me, claim her with my tongue.
“You’re too hard on yourself. She got her certification. She’s not a customer anymore, she could just be a friend. You do know what that is?”
“Yeah, a friend is someone who drags you to the pub and then ditches you for a British babe.” I roll my shoulders back, physically uncomfortable with snapping at Mike. “It threw off my whole sleeping schedule,” I grumble in a weak apology.
He winces. “Is that why you’re such a grouch? Or is that just the broken heart talking?”
I choke on a laugh and fold my arms over my chest. “I chose not to sleep with a beautiful woman hours before she got on a plane, never to be seen again. It’s not my heart that was aching.”
Mike makes a face I can’t interpret. I know he’s not annoyed by my crass joke. He gives the canvas a push so that I begin to rock in the breeze, and doesn’t meet my eyes.
“So if she were here longer, you would’ve gone for it? You’re turning soft on me.” His expression transforms into a playful grin. “I think you have a big heart, Steven. Where have you been hiding it all this time?”
“Sure, mate,” I agree just to end the discussion. There’s no point in playing this game with him. I haven’t pursued a realrelationship since I arrived on the island and I have my reasons, as he knows perfectly well. Maybe he’s ready to start enjoying the spoils of working in the tourism industry himself and he just needs some encouragement.
“What about Victoria? Areyougonna go for it?”
He sighs and leans against a palm tree. “I don’t know. It wouldn’t really be appropriate, with her being a volunteer and all.”
“Fuck that,” I say. Mike has never shown more than a passing interest in a girl before. If he’s even considering it, I want this for him. But he’s such a stickler for following the rules. “There’s no law against it, is there? You would know.”
“I wrote the volunteer handbook. It doesn’t say anything about relationships.”
“Well there you go. You’re both consenting adults.” This is more touchy feely talk than we’ve ever done sober, but I can’t help being happy for the guy. Victoria is a flirt, but if anyone deserves a confidence boost, it’s Mike. Judging by his floaty disposition today, it’s already working.
“She’s only here a few more weeks.”
“That’s plenty of time.” My voice sounds unnaturally hearty even to me. I must be feeling extra guilty about ditching him last night—or eager not to get dragged out again. I just want to veg out by myself, figure out what comes next for me. I’d feel better about it if Mike had someone to distract him. “Maybe she can extend her stay.”
“Hmm, I guess there’s no rule about that either. It could get messy.”
