Page 23 of Black Sea

Why did the very thought of us parting make my fingers tingle from the senseless urge to cling to him?

“I know,” Amlach replied softly.

A heavy silence fell between us, broken only by the sound of the waves and the occasional calls of the seagulls flying between the islands of the archipelago.

“Come on,” Amlach suddenly said, standing up. He fastened his dagger’s sheath to his waist and then bent down to pick a handful of berries from my bag. “Let’s go find some nice sticks for our raft.”

He winked at me with a crooked smile, popped a blueberry into his mouth, and headed toward the forest.

I shook my head, allowing myself to smile. Then, I took two pieces of coconut, bit one as I rose to my feet, and followed him.

12

A week later, the raft was nearly finished. Picking the right trees and cutting them with two simple daggers had been tough, but finding thick, sturdy lianas that were flexible enough to connect the logs seemed almost impossible. We found some suitable ones on another islet, and I spent the whole day going back and forth, dragging the lianas behind me while Amlach sanded the wood with a stone and his blade.

Now, I was finishing crafting the second oar.

Amlach was near the shore, where we had built the square raft. He was setting the lid on a basket he had carved from a hollow log and secured to round beams. In it, we would store safe water and food for any storms we might encounter on the return trip.

He was shirtless.

Although he now understood what nudity meant to me, he had refused to work in his clothes under the hot sun. We had argued like two foolish kids. At one point, exasperated, he had taken off his robe, rolled it up, and thrown it at me.

“Maybe this way you’ll finally stop convincing yourself that you don’t like me,” he had snarled.

My eyes had widened in outrage, hissing, “You are a human.” I had thrown his robe back at him with such force that he had stumbled backward. Then, I had marched past him toward the sea to swim and avoid dealing with him any longer.

“You know,” he shouted at my back in a cocky tone, “I may be just a human, but judging by the way you look at me, I’d say you find me much more interesting than your own kind.”

I had jumped into the water without replying to him.

We hadn’t talked about the matter again since then. I had accepted his right to do whatever he wanted with his body, and he acknowledged that I had almost ignored him all day, only looking up from the sand when he got dressed again in the late afternoon.

But in truth, I had lifted my eyes many times.

For days, I had secretly watched him. Admiring. Memorizing.

Asking myself what it was about him that drew me like a magnet.

Just like it was happening right now.

I couldn’t take my eyes off his naked back.

The sun was beating down hard on his head, making the sweat drops look like tiny diamonds on his skin, which was turning increasingly golden. His back muscles tensed under his skin as he finished shaping the logs with a stone, making sure no splinters would hurt us.

I wondered what his skin would taste like. What it would feel like to grip his biceps, now so swollen from working out. What it would be like to run my hands over his strong, hairy arms. Or in the damp hair at the back of his neck.

And before I knew it, I found myself desiring him.

I wanted to feel his breath, now slightly panting, in my ear. Suck it into my mouth. I wanted his tall, powerful body above me, against me, beneath me. I wanted his skilled and confident hands all over me.

I wanted him.

All of him.

And I was aware of how wrong it was.

With his back still turned to me, Amlach sat back on his heels and gazed at the sea for what felt like endless moments. An aura of concern seemed to engulf him little by little, causing my brows to flicker into a frown.