“You coming?” I ask without looking back “I might need morerescuing.”
JAMIE ANDIHUFFup the trail in silence for a while, the only sound the occasional scuff of dried palm bark underfoot. My hair is still soaked, and the only thing keeping it out of my face is the sticky plastic strap of the goggles I’ve pushed up onto my head like a headband. As we round a bend and lose sight of the boat and the cove beach, I try to swipe surreptitiously beneath my eyes to mitigate any rings left by the goggles. I don’t need Jamie to see me looking like a manic raccoon.
“I think we need to bear left here,” he says.
I twist my neck to look back at him. He had his shirt on when he jumped into the water after me, and it’s still wet. Very wet. And clinging to every dip and swell of his chest and stomach. The same chest and stomach I used to run my hands over, mymouthover. I swing my gaze forward and start walking faster, pulling the goggles from my head and running a hand through my tangled waves. I’m half tempted to look around for hidden cameras. I’m no stranger to the odd uncanny coincidence or unexpected disaster, but this is someLovedBy-level shit. I’m on an island, alone, with a man who has seen my naked body from every angle imaginable. I can hear Nikki’s voice in my head.Sorry, Sybs. This is no reality show. This kind of craziness could only happen to you.At the thought, a slightly unhinged laugh bubbles out of me.
“You okay?” Jamie’s looking at me warily, like I’m a feral animal about to snap. Which, given the noise that just escaped my mouth, I guess he can be forgiven for thinking.
“Oh, I’m just peachy, you?” I start walking again and can hear Jamie’s footsteps close on my heels.
“This isn’t funny, Sybil.”
“Oh, I know it’s not, James.”
Jamie hates his full name.
“You could have gotten seriously hurt, jumping into the water like that and just swimming away. What were you thinking?”
I stop and turn to see his arms crossed against his broad chest, a deep crease forming between his eyes.
“Iwasn’tthinking, okay? I just needed to—”
“Well, that much is clear,” Jamie huffs. “Forget it. Let’s keep walking. I don’t want to fight.”
“Of course you don’t.” I roll my eyes. With the exception of our blowup at the altar, Jamie and I almost never fought. If we disagreed about something—like what to order for dinner or which movie to stream—he would present his opinion with coolheaded logic, while I’d argue my side passionately. In the end, Jamie usually agreed to go with my choice. But inevitably, I’d get distracted watchinghimwatch the movie, wondering if he was actually enjoying it or if he had just given in to avoid a fight. Which is exactly what he’s doing now. I know Jamie is furious at me. Not just for jumping out of the snorkel boat but for everything that happened last year. But he won’t let himself get worked up beyond mild disappointment. The irony, of course, is that all his restraint is just making memoreupset. “You never say what you’re really feeling,” I tell him. “You shove all your feelings down—”
“Andyoulet yours run completely wild. Following every impulsive whim without—”
“Well, good thing you didn’t marry me then, huh?” I interrupt. “Reallydodged a bulletthere.”
For a moment Jamie looks confused, but then realization dawns. The annoyance on his face evaporates. Pink blossoms on his cheeks as he looks down at his bare feet.
“You… you heard that?”
“Yup. Oh, and tell Gen thanks; she seems nice too.” I don’t know why I’m so stung by his words from the boat. I should be glad. This is all just proof that I was right all along. That we were wrong for each other—even at the best of times. Even when it felt right.
“Listen, Sybil—”
“It’s fine. Forget it. That’s what you wanted, right?” I turn on my heel and begin to walk up the path again, but before I can take another step, Jamie’s hand closes around my wrist, stopping me in my tracks.
“It’s not fine,” he says in a low voice. His grip is loose, but I’m rooted to the spot.
This is the first time he’s touched me in over a year.
Electricity surges up my arm, burning through my whole body. Every cell is on alert and focused on the few square inches where Jamie’s skin is in contact with mine. He might as well have used titanium handcuffs to hold me in place.
“I shouldn’t have said that,” Jamie whispers. “I’m sorry.”
My eyes lock with his. The warm brown has darkened to molten chocolate, and the sizzling current in my body settles into a languid heat. His thumb absently grazes the inside of my wrist, and my pulse skyrockets. Memories flash through my mind of other times Jamie took my wrist and pulled it above my head, hovering over me, then pressing into me… My eyes drop to his hand. There’s a pause as he looks down, too, and, as if realizing he’s overstepped, he releases me instantly. He clears his throat and steps back.
I feel the lack of him immediately. The warmth he left roils inside me, crashing up against my skin, begging to be let out. I shake my head and take my own step back.
It’s just lust, I tell myself. It’s just hormonal muscle memory responding to the last non-battery-operated thing to give me an orgasm. It’s just a year’s worth of sexual frustration finally coming to a head at the most inopportune time possible.
I croak out, “Apology accepted.” Jamie blinks at me in confusion, and then, a moment later, nods again as if finally processing my words.
We continue along the path as it makes a steady incline. The tender pads of my feet sting every time I step on a rogue pebble or rough piece of bark. I can feel the tendrils of hair tickling the nape of my neck. It’s like every inch of my skin is aware of the man just a few steps behind me.What the hell is happening to my body, and how do I make it stop?
