*
Shortly after ten, Connor walked out to their private dock in shorts, a hoodie, and his bare feet. He tested the water with his foot and sucked in a sharp breath at the chill. Despite being in the final leg of spring, it still had winter’s bite. He opened the shed built a few paces beyond the shoreline and dragged out his paddleboard. He set it half-floating in the water and lifted his prepared cooler onto the end, securing it tightly with straps.
In an emergency bag, he had a red and black life vest, a waterproof torch, a light jacket, and a small stash of water bottles and energy bars. Connor stood on the paddleboard, taking a moment to find his sea legs, and pushed off from the shore. He’d never glided out to sea so effortlessly. Even the smallest of lapping waves seemed to disperse, welcoming him into their midst.
Connor stuck parallel to the shoreline and headed away from the town where the population grew sparse. The coastline was largely private property and overgrown bracken in this direction. Very rarely did Connor run into anyone, and that made it perfect. A dark form on the horizon caught his eye. A large shipping barge sat deep in the water, its black hull a stain amongst the natural blues of the ocean and sky. Eighteen years and he’d never once seen a ship like that on this coast. He frowned at the ugly shape in the distance before looking away and putting it out of his mind.
Connor rowed for an hour without stopping. He watched the water—it was glass-clear today—and spotted dozens of fish swimming beneath him. His knowledge of local species was already extensive but thanks to his studies in the lab, he could identify almost everything he spotted with reasonable confidence. If he was lucky, he would even spot sea turtles during the summer. Anyone with common sense would tell you the waters were far too cold for them, and they never came out this close to the Atlantic but they did.
Connor’s shoulders burned and his cheeks flushed from the steady exertion. The sea breeze in his lungs felt amazing. Despite his tiredness from the physical activity, he felt better than he had in weeks. Fresher. His mood was bright.I can do this, he thought. A summer on the ocean, just like before. He would get lonely eventually. He always did. But that wouldn’t be until later in the year when people made plans to go home to their friends and family and Connor would be left behind.
Like always.
Connor pulled the oar from the water. He’d rowed close to the shoreline of a small beach and waited to see if he was caught in any current. The paddleboard shifted, angling him parallel to the beach, but the waves were barely a visible bump on the surface. If he were moving closer to shore or out to sea, it was too slow to spot.
Connor slipped the oar into its knot and sat. He held his breath as he dipped his feet into the water at the sides and forced himself to hold still as the cold of the ocean washed over him. It wasn’t that it was unbearably cold—Connor just wasn’t used to it anymore.
He retrieved his flask and sipped the hot tea he’d brought with him, simply basking in his surroundings for a long while. Next, he reached for the fantasy book he’d stashed. He used to hesitate about bringing books with him, worried he would drop them into the water, but newly released paperbacks were very easily replaced should an accident happen. And Connor loved nothing more than reading a book as the waves rocked him.
The face that emerged from the water five feet ahead of him startled him so badly his flask slipped from his grip, knocked onto the paddleboard and then rolled into the ocean. The merman dipped beneath the waves.
Connor held his breath. He was exposed here, his feet in the water, but he had considered the merman might approach him before he’d headed out. He would be lying if he said that it hadn’t been one of the main reasons he had come at all, though the abstract thought that he tempted danger felt very different to meeting the reality of it.
Connor watched the merman—the immense size and bulk of that tail—as he dipped beneath Connor. The merman changed direction, quick as a whip, and surfaced once more. This time his face broke through the waterline at the front of the paddleboard, so close his forehead might have brushed it.
The merman stared at Connor through half-lidded eyes as he set the red flask on the end of the board. Connor gazed into the dark, dark blue of his eyes before the merman disappeared back underneath the water. Except he couldn’t disappear, not entirely, not with the water as clear as it was today. Connor could see his dark shape moving around the board as he swam in circles.
He surfaced again in front of Connor a few feet away, and there he stayed, floating.
Indecision ruled Connor for long minutes until anticipation instead clutched the reins of control.
“Will you not come closer?” Connor asked. The merman seemed wary. “You were braver when I was on the boat.”
The merman treaded water, nearing until he was at the tip of the paddleboard. Whether it was Connor’s words or simply his voice that encouraged him, Connor couldn’t tell. He doubted a creature that spent its life in the ocean had any understanding of English, even if it was intelligent. That didn’t mean communication was impossible, though. Connor had been able to read his expressions during the last few encounters.
His merman picked up the flask. He crept closer and placed it down next to Connor’s leg, so close he would have touched Connor’s thigh had his fingers twitched at the delivery.
The merman glanced from the flask to Connor and back to the flask.
“Thank you.” Connor picked it up.
Pleasure blossomed in the merman’s eyes. His face looked almost entirely human. His sharp cheekbones and the darkness of his eyes set him apart, not to mention how his ears tapered into delicate points.
After engrossing minutes of mutual examination, Connor nodded underwater to the merman’s lower half. “Will you not show me your tail this time?”
The merman’s eyes lit up beneath the folds of his lids, and he moved, floating on his back next to the board.
Connor’s shivered seeing just how big the merman was. If Connor got on his nerves, he would have no issues flipping him into the water and holding him down. The merman made a keening noise in his throat as Connor swept the length of the merman with his gaze. He couldn’t see any male anatomy at all. Nothing to indicate this mermanwasa merman. Apart from the maleness of his chest and face, that was. But did the same rules apply to merpeople as they did to humans?
The merman made the keening sound once more, and he touched his own tail; the part beneath his abs, the same spot he always seemed to want Connor to look.
“Yes, I see,” Connor told him.
The merman splashed his tail, spraying Connor’s back with cool ocean sea water. The keening was more of a protest now. The merman’s dark gaze darted between Connor’s face and his hand. Face. Hand. Face. Hand. He made an aggrieved keening sound.
Slowly, so that he didn’t startle the merman, Connor reached out. He didn’t even have to lean out over the water the merman was so close to him. He simply moved his hand over and his fingers grazed over supple scales, a body that radiated heat.
The merman’s gaze snapped to the point of contact, his lips parting as his breath hitched, and a tremble shook his body. Connor traced his fingers along the bands of muscles exploring how the tail was shaped and put together. The merman’s twitching hand caught his eye. It was larger than his own and much paler, which made sense for a creature that lived underwater where the sun’s rays wouldn’t penetrate. Connor brushed his index finger against the merman’s thumb. The appendix twitched.
