Full and even more buoyant as the hour passes, I go for a swim in the sea. When my skin is adequately caked in salt, I head back to the resort’s pool deck, where I catch a flash of pink in my periphery.
The young woman in the pink bikini is disembarking from the boat along with her group, and she doesn’t appear to be alone. A man with a towel draped around his tattooed torso jogs to catch up to her. He grabs at her wrist, but she swats at him. From where I’m standing, I can’t hear their conversation, but it’s hard to miss the way she rushes away, kicking sand in her wake. The man, a statue on the shore, doesn’t even attempt to follow her as she hustles in the opposite direction of her tour group and plops herself in a hammock in the shade. For a heartbeat, I consider following after her, but then what? What would I even say?Excuse me, miss, but I was watching you from my camera earlier and… well, was that guy bothering you?
I shake off the ludicrous thought. She’d probably consider me just as bothersome, or worse, she’d think I was a stalker.
The champagne calls my name, and before I know it, I’m dozing off in my private cabana.
I wake with a start at the sound of a bang. Disoriented and a little drunk from the raki and the champagne, I take in my surroundings. Outside the cabana, rain falls in sheets. Rain? Iclamber to my feet, ramming my shin into the metal chaise lounge.
“Dammit.” I snag my phone from the lounger, only to discover the battery has died. “Shit.” Sticking my head out of the cabana, I scan the area, looking for clues as to what time it is. The clouds have dimmed the sky and covered the sun, making it impossible to tell. The only people around are resort employees who are scrambling to strip the lounge chairs of their cushions. In a panic, I throw my things in my bag and secure my camera. Then I make a run for it to the lobby.
Inside, it’s bustling with sopping-wet patrons hurtling around the lobby like ants searching for their hill.
“Excuse me.” I stop an elderly man passing by. “What time is it?”
The man looks down at his watch. “It’s nearly five, mate,” he says, then shuffles to catch up with his family.
“Five?” I holler. Fuck. I was supposed to be on the cruise’s shuttle at four. With long strides, I make my way to the concierge desk, nearly knocking over a toddler with a lollipop in the process.
“Excuse me.” I smack the wooden countertop much harder than intended and inadvertently startle the woman behind her computer.
“How can I help you?” Her white teeth nearly blind me.
“Did the shuttle toPoseidonCruise leave already?” My chances are slim, but I pray to the Greek gods, nonetheless.
She turns to her colleague and speaks in Greek before turning back to me, her brow furrowed. “I’m sorry, sir, but the shuttle departed an hour ago.”
“Shit,” I mutter under my breath.
“Excuse me,” a feminine voice pants beside me. The young woman is just as soaked as I am. She’s dressed in cutoffs and a wet tank top that’s so transparent every inch ofher bright pink bikini top is visible. If it wasn’t raining, I’d think I was at a wet T-shirt contest on Daytona Beach during Spring Break.
“It’s you,” I stammer, stunned.
She digs her bright blue nails into the countertop and whips her head in my direction. “What?”
She’s the girl from the snorkeling excursion. The one I captured midair.
“Sorry.” I shake my head. I didn’t mean to say that out loud. “Are you okay?” I ask, bulldozing forward in hopes that she forgets my first comment.
Her cheeks are splotchy and her eyes are red rimmed. “No,” she whimpers. “Did I hear you say you missed the shuttle toPoseidonCruise?”
I nod.
“I did too,” she sniffles. “Well, not the shuttle. I was on an excursion on the water?—”
“Snorkeling,” I interrupt.
“Yeah,” she continues, giving me a skeptical once-over.
I don’t blame her.See?I do look like a stalker.
“They freaking left without me.” She throws her hands in the air, dropping her phone in the process.
I crouch and retrieve it for her. She’s lucky the screen isn’t cracked.
“Thanks,” she says when I hold it out to her. Her hand brushes mine in the transaction.
It’s small and cold from the rain, and I shiver on contact. If I’m not mistaken, a ripple of goose bumps works its way up her arm too. I follow its path up until I’m locked on her bold brown eyes. Her lashes are long and her brows are lush.I didn’t even know eyebrows could be sexy, but here we are.
