‘In some ways yes, and in other ways no.’ His stare took on a very meaningful look. Like penetrating laser beams, scanning my insides to find an answer to a question I didn’t know I had been asked.
‘Good!’ I said, though I didn’t know what I was actually sayinggoodto. The fact that he was happy, or not happy? Did I want him to be happy?
‘Good,’ he repeated, and then pulled his shirt over his head.
‘Seriously, what are you doing?’ I waved my arm at his chest.
‘Going for a night swim.’ He tossed the shirt and I glared at it as it fell to the floor.
‘Since when are you such a neat freak?’ he shot back, pointing at the other side of the room, where my open suitcase lay, its contents spilling out, covering the floor as well as bits of furniture.
‘My room. My rules.’
Cam sighed, bent down and picked up his shirt. He then made a big show of dusting it off before folding it dramatically and placing it neatly in the closet, like he was performing in a one-man play and I was his audience.
‘Better?’ he asked.
‘As long as you pick it up when you leave after your swim.’
‘Leave?’
‘Yes, when you leave and go back to your floatingnot-midlife-crisis.’
‘I can’t go back, Lizzy,’ Cam said, pulling his shorts down now.
‘Why can’t you go . . .Put your shorts back on!’
‘Do you realise what a risk it would be walking back to my boat with the Blade around? What if he saw me and got suspicious? Youdoknow what that man does to people he’s suspicious of, right?’
‘You must be insane if you think I’m letting you stay here tonight,’ I said, giving a very ardent head-shake.
He straightened up, and that was when I realised what was happening down south over there. I tried not to stare, but the tight white briefs he was wearing –did I say tight?– stared back at me. I blinked, but my eyes felt irresistibly connected to that area, as if it was an attracting magnetic pole (pun intended) and I was powerlessnotto look.
‘I can’t thank Pilates for that, though,’ he joked.
I snapped out of it quickly. ‘What! No!’
‘It’s okay, I don’t judge you. I did the same in the closet, so I guess we’re even now.’
‘Are you really going to swim in those,’ I said, trying to not think about what exactly he’d seen when my crotch had been in his face.
‘What’s wrong with them?’
‘They’ll be totally transparent.’
He laughed, which made all those damn muscles do their ten-pack thing again. ‘Then don’t look.’
I rolled my eyes. ‘Trust me, I won’t.’
‘Besides, I have nothing else to swim in. I can’t wear my shorts, or they’ll be damp all night and I’ll wet the bed.’
‘The bed?’ I paused for a moment, taking a second or two to let the implications of that sink in, and when they did . . . ‘Oh no. Nope! You’re not sleeping in the bed.’
‘Where would you like me to sleep?’ He looked around the room dramatically.
‘Lounger on the deck!’ I pointed.
‘Mosquitoes.’ He gestured to one that was already on the wall.
