They devolved into a fit of giggles, and I coughed to cover up a groan. Niko glanced in my direction and winked over his drink. I rolled my eyes. He wasn’t usually this brazen. He was laying it on thick, no doubt because he’d seen me talking to Lena and wanted to make a point.
“Y’all want to take a walk on the marina?” Niko asked. “It’s beautiful this time of night.”
They bounced in their chairs, practically vibrating with excitement, and shared a look for a fraction of a second before blurting, “Absolutely!” and “We’d love that!”
Thank the gods. I couldn’t sit there and stomach any more of Niko’s ridiculous display.
The brunette looked at me with hopeful eyes. “Will you come, too?”
“Sure. Why not?”
I pushed out of my chair and wondered if Lena made it home safely. Had she had a good time?
My instincts revolted against the unwanted thoughts. What I should have been focusing on was the brunette.
Niko offered an arm to his admirer, and the way she watched him, combined with his above-average interest, he was set for an easy hookup. Hopefully this time he’d follow my advice and leave it at that. They started a slow stroll toward the boardwalk, arm-in-arm.
I turned to the brunette patiently waiting for me with expectant eyes, and something unwelcome unfolded across my chest and clawed its way up my throat. It felt wrong. All I could think about was Lena and her sad eyes and the satisfaction it gave me to make them sparkle with amusement.
I held up a hand and pinched the bridge of my nose with the other, trying to shake off the uncomfortable sensation seizing my body and the war the unwelcome thoughts waged against my siren’s compulsion. But the sense of wrongness wouldn’t relent.
“Yo! Niko!”
He stopped and glanced back over his shoulder.
“I’m going to head out, man.”
Niko’s head notched back in surprise, and he spun around to face me. “Really?”
“Yeah. I’m not feeling so hot. I must have eaten something funny.”
He frowned, eyes darting to the woman next to me and back. But then his face cracked into the same smug grin from the beach that morning. I wasn’t going to hear the end of this tomorrow.
“Nice meeting you,” I said to the brunette. “Maybe I’ll see you at open mic tomorrow night.”
She barely squeaked out a “Yeah” before I spun on my heel and took long, quick strides toward my motorcycle, all the while wondering what had come over me and, more importantly, how I was going to fix it.
Chapter Six
LENA
The next morning, I practiced yoga at the studio in Coligny Square, committed to a new beginning after the fresh outlook I’d gained from listening to Elias the night before. The ninety-minute class delivered, and I left feeling centered and focused.
But the quaint little studio needed some love. The HVAC barely kept the practice room above eighty, the floorboards creaked with every transition to Chaturanga, and I was one of only three students in class. I’d only practiced there a few times in the past, but the sad state of the studio surprised me. I made a mental note to introduce myself to the owner next time I had the chance and ask about the community.
Despite the weak heaters, the island humidity added its own torture to the space, and afterwards I desperately needed to get my body temperature down. I hadn’t been in the ocean since I’d arrived on the island, and this seemed like the perfect opportunity. I took a detour on the way back to the house and pedaled my bike to the beach.
I rode through manicured fairways and muddy swamps, past golf carts and tennis courts, under Spanish moss and towering pines. The fragrant air hugged my sweat-soaked skin and sent beads of moisture trailing down my face and back. The island’s beauty enveloped my senses, and my grandma felt alive and present in those comforting sensations. I rode along the winding bike paths of Sea Pines toward my beach and drank in the island magic that brought her spirit back to me.
I parked my bike, pulled my sweaty towel out of the basket, and trudged up the sand dune to find a near-empty expanse of beach—everyone must have been at the golf tournament. A single older couple strolled by, hand-in-hand. A brief pang threatened to seize my chest and drag me down, their companionship and devotion a reminder of everything my failed marriage wasn’t, but I ruthlessly beat down that line of thinking. Nothing was going to distract me from the beauty of an empty beach and the ocean beyond.
I dropped my towel, kicked off my flip-flops, and peeled off my sweaty tank top and yoga pants. At least I’d worn black panties; they matched my sports bra and kind of made it look like a swimsuit.
The endless ocean glistened so brightly beneath the mid-morning sun, I had to shield my eyes to see anything but glare. And that’s when I spotted them—dolphins.
Teenage Lena had been obsessed with dolphins, and I still became giddy anytime they surfaced, especially this close to shore. I stepped toward the water as if those few feet might bring me nearer to them and blinked hard when I realized someone was out there cutting through the water with a rhythmic breaststroke. Was he... Yes! He was swimming alongside the dolphins as they dipped in and out of the waves.
One of the dolphins raised its head above the surface and clicked. The swimmer slowed, and the dolphin breached the surface. The man stopped and watched it arc. It crashed down sending a wave over his head, and his laugh carried across the distance to the shore. He pushed his hair out of his face, and I instantly recognized him—Elias.
