“Roger that. I’ll keep my distance. Just promise you won’t go spinning out on me again if I start acting cold.”
“Spinning out?” I protest in too loud a whisper.
“I only mean that you have a tendency to make assumptions, and I want to make my intentions clear. I meant everything I said last night. That, and the last time I tried to ignore you, it didn’t go so well for either of us.”
My heart rate excels to light-speed as Caleb leans in close enough to brush his lips against my temple.
“Just know that if it looks like I’m trying to keep myself from ravaging you in the hallway,” his teeth catch my earlobe as he runs his fingers inside my robe and down my stomach, pausing just at the top of my underwear, “it’s because I am.”
He steps gracefully backwards just as Gia steps into the hall, her arms full with a tray of leftover fruit. I’m so stunned I forget to make up an excuse.
“Gia, do we have any Advil on hand? Stella’s got a bit of a headache,” he says without missing a beat in his militant get-shit-done voice. How can he switch from sex god to drill sergeant in half a second when my knees are still trembling like jello?
“Oh no!” she answers. “Of course. I’ll have Allie bring some down to your room.”
“Thanks Gia,” I murmur, and Caleb nods to us before marching back down the hall.
“Ladies.”
22
The next twenty-four hours are an exercise in restraint. If I thought it was difficult to stay away from CalebbeforeI had my way with him, now it’s borderline torture. I can’t so much as look at a banana without feeling like I’m going to pass out. And the worst part is I can’t talk toanyoneabout it. I feel like a Jane Austen heroine, living off stolen glances and the brushing of hands in hallways. I wonder if Elizabeth Bennet would have been so principled if she had to watch Mr. Darcy sorting ropes in nothing but his board shorts.
“C’mon Stella, the water’s beautiful!” a snorkel-masked Harry calls to me from the reef just off the beach. I snap to attention, realizing I’ve been staring at Caleb like a dog drooling over a ribeye. The Vela Bianca is anchored about twenty yards out, but even from here I can see his muscles flexing as he hauls equipment up from the bottom deck.
“I’ll be there in a second,” I call back to Harry, burying my head in my book. It’s our final morning before we head back to the main island of Viti Levu, and Jim’s taken us to the beaches of Monoriki Island. It’s where they filmed Castaway, soMatthew’s making sure to get sufficient drone footage of himself looking broody beneath the palms for his TikTok.
A few yards away, my sister follows little train tracks in the sand in search of hermit crabs.
“I got one! I got one!”
She trots up the palm-lined beach with the excitement of a golden retriever, and I put down my book. I don’t think I’ve gotten through more than two pages since I got here.
“Stella, hold out your hand!”
I do as she asks and let her place the olive-sized pink shell in my hand. At first, I think she’s found a dud. But after a few seconds of quiet, two tiny eyes pop out from beneath the shell followed by a couple spindly grey legs. I giggle as the hermit crab scampers across my open palm, his tiny crab feet tickling my skin.
I look around at the bone-white sand, the reef, my newly tanned skin. Less than ten days ago, I was dreading this trip like a root canal. Now, with only two days left before we fly home, the thought of leaving behind these palm trees and turquoise waters makes my stomach clench.
And Caleb.The thought hits me like a stone to the temple. In the few times we’ve managed to sneak away into a dark corner, there hasn’t exactly been a lot of time for talking. What’s going to happen when I have to leave?
“Sure beats Chicago, hmm?” Jules elbows me, probably noticing the rainclouds that are starting to form over my head. I laugh.
“I dunno,” I reply, “I’m really missing the soggy French fries from Mickey’s right about now.”
I lower the hermit crab into the sand and let him scuttle off, his spirits undoubtedly renewed after surviving what surely seemed to him like a near death experience.
“Thank you for this, Jules,” I tell her as she drops down onto the towel next to me.
“Me?” She looks surprised. “I didn’t do anything. I’m just a grateful passenger.”
“Yes,” I tell her, “you did. You kept pestering me to come on this trip even when I was being a stubborn cow. And I’m really glad you did.”
She smiles.
“What I mean to say is, it’s a good thing you’re such a pain in the ass.”
Jules flicks hot sand on me, her nose crinkling. Harry chooses that moment to emerge from the water, his fins slapping against the sand like an emperor penguin. As he waves to us, one of the edges catches on the ground and he pitches forward, barely catching himself before he topples to the sand.
