Page 66 of Ship Happens

The band is still playing, though thanks to the wind, the music is barely audible. But that doesn’t matter. Not to Owen.

“Are you sure?” Jacob asks.

Owen nods. “I know what I want.”

And for once, Owen’s telling himself the truth.

He lets Jacob take the lead, slotting his hand onto Owen’s waist, Owen’s hand on Jacob’s broad shoulder. It feels right to hold him like this again. So, so right. Jacob gazes into Owen with this tender expression, one that makes Owen feel seen, understood. Then, without asking for permission, Owen leans forward to rest his head on Jacob’s chest, his ear pressed right to Jacob’s heart.

There’s no mistaking the nervous, heavy, rhythmic thudding.

He wishes he could tell Jacob that he’s nervous too, that his heart is beating just as wildly. Just so Jacob knows that he isn’t alone.

Then, as if he can hear Owen’s thoughts, Jacob’s breathing finally relaxes, his heart settling back into something steadier. The same rhythm that Owen used to fall asleep to on the nights when Jacob’s chest was the perfect pillow.

Owen doesn’t care how long they stand out there; he doesn’t care that he can hear the music stop as the band takes a break, generic lounge music taking its place. Owen doesn’t care as the sun fully sets, and the night grows unbearably cold, the nearby heat lamps providing no relief at all from the elements.

He doesn’t care. Because he’s here with Jacob. Getting to hold him again, for as long as he wants to. This is all he’s ever needed. This security, this love, this understanding. Even if they don’t have that anymore, Owen will always feel grateful to Jacob for giving that to him for as long as he could. And maybe Kevin is right, maybe he needs to let this go.

But maybe they could find something new.

Why not try at least?

Owen shivers against Jacob’s body, appreciating the way Jacob hugs him even tighter. They stopped dancing a long time ago, choosing just to stand there, holding each other. But Jacob’s broad frame can only provide so much, especially since neither of them is wearing a jacket.

“Want to go inside?” Jacob asks.

Owen nods, taking Jacob’s hand gladly, walking across the deck next to him. He can’t help but notice how the warm lights of the atrium cast an almost angelic halo around Jacob’s head. He shines like the sun.

Just like he always does.

Owen’s so distracted that he doesn’t notice the spill at first. As they both step into the atrium, his foot slips right out from underneath him, kicking high into the air as his world shifts on its axis.

Then he falls.

Hard.

Chapter Eleven

You Tell Me What You Need

He feels it everywhere, a harsh pang that reverberates throughout his entire body, starting in the small of his back, going to his ass, and ending in his fingers and toes. “Oh, fuck!” Owen grunts as he bites hard on his bottom lip, only relaxing when he thinks he might break the skin. “Fuck, fuck, fuck that hurts.”

Thank God the live band isn’t still playing; no doubt their sudden silence would’ve drawn even more attention than the eyes that Owen catches when he lands.

“Shit, Owen!” Jacob kneels next to him, his face cast in shadow thanks to the lights in the ceiling. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” Owen lies. When he tries to lift himself back to his feet, his legs almost immediately start to wobble, his stance unsteady as he reaches out to support himself on Jacob’s shoulder. “Nothing is broken,” he assures the people gathering around them, witnesses to Owen’s great embarrassment.

“Okay, everyone make some space.” A cruise employee holds out their arms, directing everyone to get back to the party and to give Owen room as Jacob helps him to an empty table.

“Shit, dude . . .” Kaitlyn pulls a chair out for Owen to slump into.

“I think I pulled my shoulder.” Owen attempts to rotate his arm before he feels a sharp pain. “Ah! Yeah . . .” he adds through gritted teeth. “Pulled my shoulder.”

“Tell me where it hurts,” Kevin says, slipping right into his bedside manner, almost appearing out of nowhere as he presses fingers to Owen’s arm.

“Higher,” Owen tells him.