“I'm so tired,” she says quietly. “Not of you. Just of... all of it. Of being this far into my life and still not knowing what I'm doing.” She exhales, and I hear it shake on the way out. “I’ve been on this ship for a week and a half, and the only time my brain actually goes quiet is when you’re nearby,”
My chest tightens.
“Which is inconvenient,” she adds, and I can hear a soft laugh after. “Obviously.”
“Honey—”
“I’m not saying I have it figured out. I don’t. I’m still the same mess I was when I got on this boat. I still can’t write. I still don’t know what I’m doing with my life.” She pauses. “I know I shouldn’t ask you this.”
I go completely still.
“Ask me what?” I say, even though I already know.
“Don’t go.”
The waves keep moving underneath us, and I stare at the partition like it's the only thing keeping me upright.
I already made this decision, but she’s sitting three feet behind a piece of fiberglass, asking me not to.
Fuck.
“Honeycomb,” I say, my voice rough.
“I know,” she says quickly. “I know, I shouldn’t have said it. I’m sorry. Forget I—” Then, barely above a whisper. “I just don't want you to go.”
What the fuck am I supposed to do now?
I hear her move on the other side, and when I look up, she’s at the railing, right at the angled edge where the partition drops low between us.
I push my chair back and make my way over to her. She watches me every step, and by the time I get to her, I can see just how glassy her eyes are.
Beautiful. She’s so fucking beautiful.
I cup her cheeks and she rests her hands on my arms.
“Honey,” I whisper, and that’s all it takes.
She tips on her toes to lean over the partition.
I meet her halfway, my lips crashing against hers.
Eighteen months. I’ve waited eighteen months for her to be this sure. Her hand comes up to grip the front of my shirt as she tries to pull me in. Unfortunately, the damn partition is in the way.
She makes a small, broken sound as she falls back onto her feet, forcing us apart. Her lips are swollen and glistening, and when she opens her eyes, all resolve is gone entirely.
“Come here,” I growl, reaching over the partition and resting my hands on her waist.
“What are you—”
I don’t let her finish the question. I just lift her clean over the balcony, earning a squeal from her as I bring her over to my side.
“Zach—”
I don’t let her finish. I kiss her again, swallowing her words. The kiss is instantly desperate, filled with all my pent-up hunger. My hands fist in her hair, tilting her head exactly how I want it as I devour her. She moans into my mouth, the sound shooting straight to my cock.
I walk her backward until her back hits the wall. My hands slide under her thin T-shirt, and a rough groan tears from my throat when I realize she’s not wearing anything underneath.Her breasts are soft and heavy in my palms; her nipples are already tight. I pinch them lightly, rolling them between my fingers as she gasps and arches into me.
“Fuck, Honeycomb,” I rasp against her lips, grinding my hard cock against her stomach. “You’re going to be the death of me, I swear.”
