“We can see what everyone wants to do when they get back from the gym.” I move the rest of my fruit around my plate, watching all the other passengers spread out across the deck, enjoying their breakfasts out under the morning sun, trying not to imagine Bohdan laid out on the floor because maybe he pushed himself too hard and his brain started to bleed again.
Tia slides her sunglasses down her nose, eyes sharpening on me. “I don’t think we should leave it up to them. I heard rumours about a ... belly flop contest in one of the pools. That has my brother written all over it.”
“It doesn’t have Bohdan written all over it.”
Tia lets out a bark of laughter. “No, it absolutely does not.”
“What doesn’t have Bohdan written all over it?” Talon bounds towards our table, pausing to ruffle my hair before he swings out the chair at the head of the table, turning it backward so he can drop into it, arms slung across it lazily.
“A retirement river cruise,” Jay deadpans, dropping into the seat across from Tia.
Hands settle on my shoulders, heavy and light and perfect and every wonderful feeling in this world. I tip my head back, smiling up at Bohdan. Hair askew, tumbling every which way, and grey eyes brighter than the sky.
“Hi. Was your workout okay?” I can’t help it, but I glance at his scar, hidden under a wave cresting across his forehead.
“All good.” He nods, but the corners of his eyes crease with something that looks a bit like worry when he pulls out the chair beside me.
Talon pulls a sheet of paper that looks like it’s seen better days out of the pockets of his shorts, along with a black marker. “Seeing as tomorrow’s our last official day, and even though you’ve both changed the rules of your little contest more times than I can count, I thought we could start our day at sea by tallying up the strikes between you two and declare a winner.”
“We weren’t actually keeping score.” Bohdan presses his fingers to his temple, exasperated.
“I was.” Talon shrugs, making a show of flattening out the crumpled piece of paper and uncapping the marker with a loud pop.
“You haven’t even been around us the whole week. Wait—why do I have the most strikes?” I open a palm, incredulous, before aggressively tapping my finger against the edge of the sheet.
“Sloan.” Talon gives me a look like he feels a bit sorry for me, mouth tugging to the side before he expertly slides the paperacross the table and out of the line of fire for my finger. “Sloany. Come on.” He blinks at me a bit too much before widening his eyes and gesturing at me. “Look at you. Ten strikes just for looking like that. Bohdan’s dream girl walking around on the boat?”
I cross my arms and straighten my shoulders. “Well, that doesn’t seem fair.”
“Yeah, Talon, it’s not her fault she looks like that.” Tia holds a hand open towards me.
“Be that as it may ...” He gives his sister a pointed look before the marker hits another line. “Yellow revenge dress. Great choice, but come on.”
“Dress was brutal.” Jay nods.
“I liked the dress.” Bohdan presses his mouth to the side of my head, but I feel it bowing with a smile. “Yellow’s my favourite colour.”
It’s not. It’s cerulean because it reminds him of my eyes.
“Case in point.” Talon clicks his tongue, eyes crinkling in sympathy. “Poor fucker didn’t stand a chance.”
“Never did.” Bohdan’s mouth moves against the edge of my ear in a whisper.
Talon waves the marker in an exaggerated circle before he hits the paper again. “As I was saying, ten points to Sloan for the dress. But before that, Bohdan, you had at least three points for that whole ‘most beautiful girl in the world’ speech you gave before boarding.” He glances at Bohdan with a slow shake of his head. “And then that whole scene you caused at dinner, talking about what she looks when she—”
“Talon,” Bohdan cuts in, words weighed down with warning.
“Well, am I wrong? You said it.” He enunciates each word with a tap against the lines scratched on the paper, but Jay cuts him off with a groan.
“This can’t be what you planned for the day at sea, man.” Jay runs a hand through his hair before reaching forward and helping himself to the rest of Tia’s coffee.
A line sketches between Talon’s brow. “The plan was ... day at sea.”
“Day at sea?” Tia echoes before throwing me a knowing look. “That’s not a plan, Talon. You—somehow—planned this entire cruise, but you couldn’t pick a single activity for us to do on this giant ship all full of them?”
“Water aerobics.” Talon doesn’t miss a beat.
“There’s no aerobics today. They’re hosting that ...” The words catch on her disdain, evident in the downturn of her lips. Tia swallows, like the words cause her physical pain. “Belly flop contest.”
