“So you’re basically your own boss?” I ask. “Do you actually make money like that?”
He laughs. “It’s not always consistent, but I do alright. Living on a tighter budget is worth the freedom for me.”
He’s given me a lot to think about already. I don’t want to interrogate him but he seems to enjoy talking about himself. David always did too.
“So you saved a turtle?”
“I just found him. The sanctuary did the saving,” I demure, picking up a styrofoam cup and plastic straw. They don’t even serve these products on the island—how do they get here? I look out at the crashing waves and realize what a stupid question that is.
“That’s still pretty sick.” Gavin loops an arm around my shoulder, brushing sand across our bodies. I’m wearing a bikini top with denim shorts—the thong will not be making a reappearance any time soon—and the feeling of his skin on mine makes me squirm, and not in the good way.
I pull out of his embrace and catch up to Eva and Jake.
“My hands are full.” Eva is cradling plastic bottles in her arms and they’re about to spill over. “Where do we get one of those trash bags?”
Steven is down by the shore looking sullen and distracted. Other travelers dump their finds into the bag he holds open while Mike chats happily and taps on a tablet. I glance back at Gavin, but his baby face and sporadic stubble aren’t doing anything for me. He’s interesting, but he’s so young, and he reminds me too much of David.
“I’ll take them,” I say, collecting as much as I can carry and scampering down the beach.
“Ah, our rescuer from this morning! So good to see you again.” Mike’s smile is wide and genuine. He pokes through the trash in my arms with the end of a pen and announces the contents before I drop them in. Steven holds the bag open, avoiding my gaze even as I desperately try to catch his. Why does he seem to hate me so much?
“How’s Jimmy doing?” I ask.
That seems to get his attention. Steven looks me up and down, a question I can’t decipher in his eyes.
“He’s doing great, thanks to you! You should come by the sanctuary tomorrow and see.” Mike’s enthusiasm is so contagious that it’s hard not to match it, but Steven gives a little grunt that seems to nullify the invite.
His gaze makes me feel like a butterfly pinned to canvas. My cheeks turn pink as I grow self conscious. My legs are shaved, my tan is evening out, and my hair is somewhat tame by island standards. What does he see that’s giving him so much to grumble about? The intensity of his stare has my nipples tightening, and I thank God for bikini padding.
“Thanks, I might do that! I’d love to hear more about volunteering. I was really impressed by my tour today. There’s not a lot todoon a tranquil honeymoon island. I’m kind of going crazy.”
“If you want a bunch of tourist activities, you’d be happier in Kuta. Gili Telu is where people go to relax.” I’m impressed by the amount of words Steven manages to string together, but it feels like an attempt to push me off the island. I do not take it well.
“If I hear that word one more time, I’m going to scream. I don’t want to relax. I don’t knowhowto relax. Relaxing was not in the plan.”
“And does your life always go according to plan?” His narrowed eyes set my heart pounding.
“Pretty much,” I say through a forced smile, omitting the obvious breakup situation, and losing my favorite person in the world to COPD.
He sighs and looks out over the water. “Must be nice.”
That’s practically friendly for him. He’s softening toward me. It’s now or never.
“Doyouwant to do something with me? I’m sure you know all kinds of hidden gems around the island. Do you live here year round?”
“No.”
“No you don’t live here? Where do you live? I’m guessing by your accent—”
“No, I don’t want to do anything with you. We’re pretty busy right now. Swamped, actually.”
He shoots a glare at Mike that would’ve scared me to death. Mike has been watching our conversation like a tennis match, a look of vague amusement on his face. Now he frowns briefly at Steven then turns to me with a megawatt smile. Again, I get Kindergarten teacher vibes and realize that makes me the five-year-old in this scenario.
“We really appreciate you being here. Sorry about my colleague. He’s been out in the sun all day and is feeling a little under the weather. Don’t let him scare ya. His bark is worse than his bite.”
Fuck, why did he have to say that? Now all I can think about is Steven’s teeth, sinking into my hot flesh. I rub my neck subconsciously, desire coiling in my belly.
“Junie, you okay?” Eva pops up beside me, the boys not far behind. They unload their trash into the bag as Mike takes a quick count and the interaction is forgotten as we drift away from them.
