"Everyone's done something. Come on. Spill."
She bit her lip, thinking. "Okay. When I was sixteen, I snuck out of my foster home to go to a concert. Some band I can't even remember now. I climbed out the window, took three buses, stood in the crowd for four hours." A wistful smile crossed her face. "It was the best night of my life up to that point. I felt so... free. Like I could be anyone."
"Did you get caught?"
"Of course, I got caught. I was grounded for a month. But it was worth it." She looked at me, something soft in her expression. "That's the first time I've told anyone that story."
"I'm honored."
"You should be. I don't share my juvenile delinquency with just anyone."
I reached out, brushing a strand of hair from her face. She leaned into my touch, her eyes fluttering half-closed.
"Kim."
"Hmm?"
"I'm going to kiss you now."
"Okay."
I closed the distance between us, capturing her mouth with mine. She tasted like champagne and salt water, sweet and bright and perfect. The kiss deepened, her hands coming up to tangle in my hair, and I pulled her closer, closer, until she was practically in my lap.
When we finally broke apart, we were both breathing hard.
"We should probably head back," Kim said, though she made no move to pull away. "Zoe will be wondering where we are."
"Five more minutes."
"You said that an hour ago."
"And I'll say it again in another hour." I pressed a kiss to her forehead. "Let me have this. Let me have you, just for a little longer."
She softened against me. "Okay."
The catamaran carried us back toward shore as the afternoon sun began its slow descent. We stood at the railing, Kim tucked against my side, watching the resort grow larger on the horizon.
That was when I spotted him.
Cole Matthews was walking along the beach. Alone. His white linen shirt was wrinkled, his posture defeated. He looked like a man performing regret for an audience of one.
Kim stiffened beside me.
Cole looked up, spotting us on the boat. He raised a hand in an awkward wave, then made his way toward the dock where we'd be arriving.
"We don't have to talk to him," I said quietly.
"I know."
But when the catamaran docked, and we disembarked, Cole was waiting.
"Kim." His voice was careful. Cautious. "I know you don't want to see me. I'm leaving soon. Heading back to New York on the evening flight."
Kim said nothing. Her hand tightened around mine.
"I just wanted to say..." Cole swallowed hard. "I hope you'll consider meeting with me. When you're back in the city. I know I don't deserve it, but I'd like the chance to explain. To apologize properly." His eyes were pleading. Too pleading, maybe. Like he'd practiced this in the mirror. "It would make me very happy if you'd at least think about it."
The silence stretched between them. I watched Kim's face, saw the war playing out behind her eyes—anger and hurt and something that might have been grief for the person she'd once believed he was.
