“Nest watch.” She raises her eyebrows, letting me know I’m not off the hook.
“Oh yeah. Any new clutches?”
“We found two.” I feel a jolt of excitement before she adds, “Don’t change the subject.
“Fine. Yes, I was with someone. I had a really wonderful time. I am not on a walk of shame, I’m on a quiet,dignifiedwalk to get a shower and a change of clothes.”
She squeals so loudly it’s sure to wake everyone up. I wince, glancing toward the door, and she takes the hint.
“So not a volunteer, obviously. Local or tourist?” she whispers.
Her giddiness is only stoking my own, but I’m not sure how Steven would feel about everyone at the sanctuary knowing our business, so I don’t let anything slip. By the time we walk into the cabin, some of the others are stirring, and I hope they’ll assume that I’ve been with Juliette. If I can just tamp down the glow of a woman who clearly had orgasms in the double digits last night, I might even get away with it.
I try to keep my distance at the sanctuary, sure that I won’t be able to act normal around him. Not now that we’ve been so close. Not when he agreed that I should come back over tonight, and every night, as far he’s concerned.
I smell him before I see him. His scent is like an aphrodisiac, all salt and sun and something uniquely him.
I’m working on the couch in the employee room when he whispers, “You look beautiful,” before disappearing on his second dive of the day.
“Something’s going on with Steven,” Thomas says, sipping tea on a break after his last museum tour.
“What do you mean?” I ask, ignoring the way my heart pounds.
“He seems… I don’t know. Weird. He complimented my hat.” Thomas’s puke green bucket hat is the subject of much lighthearted teasing.
“Hmm,” murmurs Juliette, her raised eyebrows visible behind her big mug. “That is quite out of character.”
“Maybe he’s just happy that Sweetie is getting released soon.” I have to press my lips together to hold my smile back. “I know I’m pretty excited about that. Aren’t we all going on the boat tomorrow to see her off?”
“Yeah, maybe.” Thomas sounds doubtful but he finishes his drink and moves toward the door. ”Are you both coming to The Local later?”
“Of course,” Juliette says. “Junie will be there too.”
She narrows her eyes, daring me to contradict her. I guess it’s not the worst idea to spend time with my friends before tangling back up in Steven’s sheets. I have a habit of making the men I date the center of my world. I should socialize before getting pulled into his orbit again.
Maybe part of me is getting cold feet. Yesterday was so perfect—what if something goes wrong? What if the magic doesn’t last through a second night? What if he decides he doesn’t actually want me there? I can’t abandon my friends now that we’ve slept together.
“Yeah, I’ll be there.” I nod and Thomas waves on his way out.
I absolutely did not plan to hang around the sanctuary waiting to see him, but I don’t have his phone number—I don’t have anyone’s on the island, except Mike, who’d given me his Whatsapp in case of an emergency. So unless I find him before heading to The Local, I don’t know how to contact Steven.
The thought of showing up outside his bungalow later and waiting to be let in makes my stomach do somersaults. I can’t do it. So I do what any completely normal and chill girl would do, I sunbathe on the beach with a book until I see the dive boat appear on the horizon. It’s the perfect activity to feed my chronic overthinking.
As he hops onto the dock like a choreographed dance, I let my sunglasses slip down the bridge of my nose. I admire his strong biceps as he ties a mooring line in seconds. I feel fluttery as I watch him help the guests back onto dry land. They’re all grinning and happy—it must have been a good dive. I can’t wait to get back under the waves tomorrow.
When the guests are offloaded, I wander down the dock, trying to make it seem casual.
“You guys need any help with the gear?” I ask, as if I want to be helpful. As if my blood isn’t practically singing for this man.
“Nah, we’ve got this, sunshine.” He pauses to give me a complete once-over, taking in my braided hair, my sarong, and my rapidly deepening tan. He seems to like Island Junie. His gaze feels like a cool drink of water, a soft breeze rippling over my skin. It gives me goosebumps.
“We’re all heading to Local tonight for a couple of drinks. I don’t know if you want to… after, maybe…” Shit. I’ve had hours to come up with a cool and sexy way to ask him if he still wants tomeet up later, and that’s what I end up with? I start chewing my lip, an anxious habit I hoped to leave behind when I landed in paradise.
“Good on ya, sounds fun,” he says, resuming his work.
I try not to feel disappointed by his lack of interest. Does he not want to meet up after all? I push down the awkward feeling that I’ve somehow misread the situation, that the words he whispered last night and this morning were all said in the heat of the moment—a long stream of sweaty and pleasurable moments—and I should’ve let them roll over me like waves. I’m the one who asked for more, who didn’t want to take things slow.
He passes tanks and hoses from the boat to the deck, lifting heavy equipment like it’s nothing, sweat dripping down his neck. I have to shake myself to stop dreaming of running my tongue over those smooth lines.
