“Thanks,” I murmur as I slide it over my head, his scent immediately overtaking the smell of the sea and the fragrance of the trees on the wind. Leaning over, I wring the excess water out of my hair, the salt making the waves spring into shape, and pick up my dagger and still sopping clothes.
We amble along the rocks, weaving through them back to the beach, the silence thick between us, broken only by the rolling waves in the cove. The ship is still dark and quiet as we climb the gangway and pad across the deck, but being back around the other Castaways, no longer alone in an isolated cove, brings me a little relief.
“Are you hungry?” Weston mumbles, his question so simple but so jarring after what had just happened in the water.
“I’m fine.”
We start down the stairs, and his voice remains low.
“I’m going to the galley to—” He stops abruptly, and I almost crash into his back. I lean to the side, peeking past him to see what is blocking his path, and shift on my feet when I see what caused his quick reaction.
Sig stands at the base of the stairs, arms crossed, fully dressed and strapped down with her weapons, with Jorn striding up beside her.
“Signee,” Weston says.
Her eyes narrow, gliding between us and taking in our state of undress: Weston shirtless in soaked cut off pants, and me wearing his shirt, both of us still dripping on the wood at our feet.
“Cap,” she says, with a lilt in her voice. I can’t tell what she is thinking. The glint in her eyes unreadable. She nods at me. “Lennox.”
Jorn glances between us, a casual smile on his face. “See you later!” he says before taking the steps two at a time and passing by us.
I bite my lip, feeling like I’ve been caught doing something wrong, when in fact that’s exactly what happened.
Except nothingactuallyhappened.
Teaching someone in the crew how to swim is probably something Weston has done countless times.
But according to Sig, what he hasn’t done countless times is spend time alone with a woman, especially when that involves rubbing her almost naked body against his and looking like he was going to kiss her at any moment.
Shit.
He brushes past her, heading down the second flight of steps, and disappears below. I watch him go the entire way, the glow of the few lit torches casting shadows across his muscular back.
Sig clears her throat and my attention snaps back to her.
“What?” I ask when we are alone.
A hint of a smile graces her face before she says, “Nothing.” She jogs up the steps and just before she passes me calls back over her shoulder, “Hope you had fun,” then disappears through the opening, her footsteps echoing over the deck as she catches up with Jorn.
Fun isn’t really the right word to describe it, is it? I’m glad Weston taught me how to swim. I thanked him for it. I’m happyto be out of the sweltering room, but the rest of it is more confusing than fun.
I can’t deny the reaction my body has to Weston, and tonight was the worst it has ever been. Call it the heat, the proximity, the confusion at his complete change in behavior, it doesn’t matter.
It can’t happen again, and it won’t.
My time on this ship started out with pretending enough to convince Weston and the Castaways that I trust them, only to get what I wanted: a way out. It shifted to befriending them, but in the process, so much has changed and I feel like the only person I am convincing is myself.
Goosebumps erupt on my skin, and I know they aren’t from spending so much time in the cool water.
It’s from the reality that after so much time fighting it, maybe I am actually starting to trust Weston.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Heat pounds on my skin as I work, and I need to take extra breaks just to stay hydrated and cool. Jorn finally showed me where Weston hid the mop, so at least I am not scrubbing on my hands and knees any longer.
The heat wave is still in full force, and after passing out for only a few hours this morning, I’m exhausted. The wall of the quarterdeck provides a block of shade, so I huddle inside it and take a swig of cool water from a bottle I snagged from the galley. Only a few Castaways have been out on deck today, most staying below, away from the direct sun with nowhere else to escape to.
The solitude is broken a few moments later as Fin comes bounding out from below. He takes off across the deck, running circles around it, his little voice rising in a yell then trying to crow like Jorn.
