I mimed it again, slower. This time she got it, and her breathing began to steady. She blinked at me, gratitude and embarrassment warring behind the glass. We floated, and for once, I was stripped of my bullshit.
A moment later, Eli was there. He gave me a sharp, approving nod, then took over. He got Brynn’s attention, gave theokaysignal, and when she returned a shaky affirmative, he signaled for us to begin a slow, controlled ascent to the safety stop. Grateful to have him managing the situation, I fell in line. My own adrenaline faded as I watched him expertly guide her upward.
On the boat ride back, Brynn was quiet. She sat on the edge of the deck, wringing water from her ponytail as she stared at the horizon.
I tossed her a towel. “You good?”
She nodded but didn’t meet my eye. “Fine. I’ve done a hundred dives and never choked like that.”
I sat close enough that our thighs touched. “It happens. But thank you for not dying on my first real dive. Bad for morale.”
That got a smile. “Thanks for not making it worse.”
I nudged her shoulder. “Thanks for not dragging me to the bottom in your death throes.”
She studied me closely, and for a beat, I thought she might say something honest and uncomfortable. Instead, she wrapped the towel around her shoulders. “You hate it here, don’t you?”
I blinked. “Excuse me?”
“Dove Key. The water, the people. You spend half your time mocking it and the other half plotting escape.”
It stung. “Is this where you tell me to stop being a jerk and appreciate the magic of island life?”
“No. I just wonder what you’re so afraid of.”
That caught me off guard. “I’m not afraid.”
“Then what is it?”
“Look, I get this place is special to you. But it’s not real life. It’s nostalgia. A vacation from what actually matters.”
“That’s where you’re wrong.” Her voice was low and tight. “For some of us, this is the only place that ever felt real.”
We were quiet for a long moment.
Finally, Brynn spoke. “When I was seventeen, I spent a whole summer here. My dad had just left, and my mom was—” She stopped. “I hated everything. But Dove Key made me feel like I could be someone different. I think everyone needs a place like that. Even you.”
I tried to say something glib, but I couldn’t. The idea unsettled me, almost worse than her panic underwater.
After the boat docked, we gathered our things and stepped off, waving goodbye to Eli. The walk back from the pier was quiet, and without discussion, we continued, strolling along the tide line. Brynn hugged the towel around her shoulders, her steps small and sure beside me. She glanced at me every few paces, like she was trying to solve an equation.
“Thanks again,” she said finally, her voice low. “For not letting me drown.”
“You’re welcome,” I said. The lack of a sarcastic follow-up hung in the air between us.
Then, before I could process it, her fingers foundmine. It wasn’t a gesture for an audience. Her hand was small and cool, her grip tentative at first, then a little firmer.
My first instinct was to pull away. But I didn’t. I laced my fingers through hers, the contact sending a current straight up my arm. This wasn’t part of the plan. Yet we started walking again, our linked hands swinging gently between us.
“So,” she said, her tone turning playful, “now that you’ve saved my life, does that mean I owe you a favor?”
I squeezed her hand. “I think the traditional boon is a new sports car, but I’ll settle for you admitting I’m a superior fake boyfriend.”
She laughed. “Don’t push it, Mercer. You’re currently in second place, right behind the guy from that movie who pretends to be a coma patient.”
“Ouch. I don’t know if my acting skills are up to faking a coma.”
“You could practice,” she said, swinging our hands higher. “I’ll bring you grapes at the hospital to tempt you.”
We walked on, the easy rhythm of our steps and the warm weight of her hand in mine feeling dangerously natural. For a few minutes, I let myself feel it—the simple warmth, the effortless back-and-forth, the feeling of standing next to someone and not needing to pretend.
Until I realized how terrifying it all was.
This was how it started. The small, quiet moments that build into something you couldn’t control, something you couldn’t walk away from without leaving a part of yourself behind.
I gently pulled my hand away and jammed it into my pocket. “We should probably get back. Don’t want to be late for whatever mandatory fun Holly and Harper have planned for us tonight.”
Brynn’s smile faltered for a second, but she recovered quickly, nodding as she started walking again. The easy warmth between us was gone, replaced by the familiar, safer distance of our charade.
I fell into step beside her. For a few minutes, holding her hand along the beach, I’d forgotten it was all a game. Just a way to pass time until I could get back to real life. But it was getting harder to remember what that was supposed to be.
