Chapter One
ELIAS
OFF THE COAST OF SOUTH CAROLINA
Salt water glided across my skin like silk, its cool bite the ideal temperature for a long swim. The April sun newly escaped from its winter purgatory shone bright, adding a touch of warmth to the Atlantic and creating perfection. The hours I spent in the water slipped by, the movement of my body synchronized to the swell of the ocean.
Complete freedom. Life didn’t get much better.
Rhythmic splashing announced another swimmer closing fast. I slowed my pace and treaded water to allow him to catch up. Within moments, my cousin and best friend popped his head out of the waves. He flipped his dark hair out of his face and swam along next to me.
“Sorry I’m late.” Niko’s breath labored with exertion.
“Rough night last night?”
He lifted a shoulder out of the water and tilted his head to meet it. A total non-answer.
“You went home with someone again last night, didn’t you?” I taunted.
He glowered at me over a tight mouth.
Amusement stretched my smirk into a smile. This was going to be fun. “Let me guess…” I cleared my throat, ready to mock him for the millionth time about his hopeless romanticism. “You met an incredible woman. You had this instant connection you just had to explore.”
He looked away with a huff and squinted at the horizon.
Bingo.
“This is starting to become a habit, Niko. A bad habit.”
He turned back to throw daggers at me with his eyes, and I laughed at his ridiculous indignation. “You’re so predictable.”
“What do you want, E? I was having a great time. She’s a scientist and got to tellin’ me about her research. I was hungry, so?—”
“So, you asked her to dinner and ended up talking all night.” The number of times I’d heard that same story... “You can’t keep doing this every time you sing.”
“Why not? What’s wrong with gettin’ to know someone?”
“Seriously?” I shook my head and blinked in disbelief. He couldn’t possibly be that thick-skulled. “Expectations, Niko. Expectations and drama.” I’d learned that lesson in my twenties—I was all set with clingy, territorial women trying to change my routine. “You ready for a relationship with this woman? You think she’ll let you spend four hours a day swimming? Late nights singing to audiences full of women with the same objective she had when she went out to dinner with you?” I cocked an eyebrow.
“You’re a cynic.”
“I’m a realist.”
He scoffed.
“She’s not going to be happy when you don’t call her.” The words came out automatic and chiding, not the first time I’d voiced that particular warning.
As sirens, the last thing we needed was outright rejection, but a nonexistent audience came in a close second. Our song demanded an answer, and we were physically compelled to fill the adoration well or pay the price.
“Not sure how you plan on satisfying your compulsion in front of an audience full of scorned lovers,” I said.
Niko narrowed his eyes. “Maybe I will call her,” he clapped back, challenge thick in his voice.
I snorted. “No, you won’t. If you called every woman you sang to and then took out to dinner, we’d never swim again—you’d be too busy on the phone.”
He twisted his face into a sneer and shoved his hand into the water, sending a splash over my head.
I chuckled and flipped the hair out of my face. At least when I sang to someone, I kept them at arm’s length—a few drinks, a little dancing, a lot of flirting. And if I was lucky? If the situation was right? Some no-strings-attached casual sex. But that was it. No dinner. No expectations. No regrets.
