“Caleb. But you can call me any manner of expletives if it makes you feel better.”
I grip the plastic edges of the sun lounger as he points the blade into the skin of my foot. I’m definitely going to take him up on that.
“Gah!” I scream.
“It’s not even in yet!”
“I changed my mind. I can live with a few splinters. I’m sure my body will push them out eventually.”
But Caleb holds my foot in a grip so strong I can’t even pull it back.
“You won’t want to do that, sweetheart. It’s not a splinter—these suckers are full of poison. If you don’t get them out, your foot will be double its size by morning.”
I lift up the bottle and pour another big gulp down my throat. After I swallow, Caleb nods once before slipping the knife into my skin.
Generally, I like to consider myself a girl with grit. After all, I spent most summers of my life in an ancient VW van with two people and zero bathrooms. But when it comes to physical pain, my tolerance has always been embarrassingly low. By the time Caleb gets the first spine out, I’ve screamed four times, bitten through my lip, and called him so many cruel names they’ll have to start a new page on urban dictionary.
“This is going to take a very long time if you keep trying to kick my teeth in,” Caleb says as he wrestles my foot steady, his forehead damp with sweat from the midday sun. I suddenly remember the way he kept checking his watch earlier and wonder how much he’s regretting scraping me off the beach.
“Sorry,” I tell him, and mean it. “I’ll get it together.”
“Why don’t we talk about something else?” he offers as he digs the blade of his knife into the side of my big toe. “What brings you to Fiji?”
I wince, fully having given up the effort to look cool about ten screams ago. I know he’s just trying to distract me, but I’m grateful for it.
“Would you believe me if I said I was dragged against my will?”
He laughs.
“Can’t say I’ve heard that one before. You on the run from the law?”
“If only,” I joke. “I got suspended at work.”
Caleb cocks his head at me, and I don’t know which one of us is more surprised. The words just came rolling out like shampoo after a long flight. I’ve been so careful not to tell anyone about what happened at work, but if I’m going to haveto confess to Jules, maybe explaining things to this likely-brainless demi-god will be good practice.
“I was a wreck about it,” I continue. “Iama wreck—and my best friend wanted to get me out of dodge. She kind of dragged me here, actually.”
“Sounds like a good friend,” he says, pulling out another spine and dropping it onto the lounger. “But I’m sorry about the job. Is it too soon to say that sometimes doors close so windows can open?”
“Definitelytoo soon,” I tell him, my muscles tensing at the thought of it. “And it’s not gone. I’m going back this spring. I just need a little reset first. Something to clear my head. Re-hone my focus.”
“You’re making me jealous,” he says dreamily. “A reset sounds pretty nice right about now.”
“What are you talking about? You get to workhere.In paradise. You’re on a beach run midday on a Tuesday.”
“It’s not all sandbars and coconuts here, you know. My employers run averytight ship.”
“Is that literal or metaphorical?” I ask, tilting my head towards the sea.
“I guess it’s both.”
A shock of pain zings through my foot, and I grab onto Caleb’s shoulder, hard.
“Must be a pretty big boat to have its own doctor,” I say through gritted teeth.
“Just the First Mate, I’m afraid,” he informs me. “But I’ll consider adding medic to my resume.”
“So, what’s the problem?” I ask him as the pain subsides. “Your captain a hard ass?” Does he make you swab the decks with a toothbrush?”
