“Well, who can blame him?” Audrey asks, and I can already feel the mischief brewing in her tone. “Have you seen Juniper? If I had a bunch of tentacles, they’d totally be wrapped around her all the time. And in her. So much penetration would be happening. All the penetration. All the time. I’d be—”
I jump forward and quickly place my finger against her mouth. “Okay,” I say loudly, cutting off whatever she was about to describe. “How about we employ that filter of yours for the trip back, pretty please?”
The last thing I need right now is thinking about penetration while I’m attracted to Beck and he’s very uninterested in me. I can’t even imagine how uncomfortable it must be for him if he scented any of my naughty thoughts while stuck on a small boat in the middle of the dark ocean.
“Ah, fuck. Sorry,” Audrey mumbles against my hand, but there’s not an ounce of contrition there. “Lips are zipped from here on out. Zippity zipped.” She pulls an imaginary line across her lips and locks it with an invisible key as she steps towardBeck’s boat. I have to bite my grin back so she doesn’t see how funny I think she is, just in case it eggs her on some more.
Beck steps into his boat and offers his hand to Audrey, who easily jumps down and stretches out along the entirety of the right-side bench with a quick wink toward me. My childhood friend doesn’t glance back at her as he keeps his hand out for me, and I curse my nerves as I eye the slightly rocking vessel, contemplating where to place my feet so I don’t face-plant onto the sleek deck or fall overboard into the daunting dark water.
Seemingly taking too long, Beck steps closer to me. “I’ve got you.” Before I can ask him what he means, he places his hands around my waist and gently picks me up like I’m a precious doll and not a fully grown, very curvaceous woman who is quite conscious of her weight. I might be short, but I’m not tiny by any standards. But right here, right now, I feel almost delicate in Beck’s arms.
“Oh.” The word holds my surprise, my thanks, my curiosity, and a feeling I can’t quite pinpoint. But when I’m home later, and very much alone, I’m totally replaying this exact moment multiple times.
Reading at least one of my emotions correctly, Beck says, “You’re welcome,” before carefully letting go of me and directing me to sit on the left while he undoes some knots tying us to the dock so we can sail away from this tranquil island and back to bustling reality.
The ride back is smooth and quiet except for the soft lapping of waves at the vessel as I marvel at the vast expanse of sky above us and the millions of shimmering stars visible without any light pollution out here. Underneath us, the ocean is a velvet navybed, the surface a dappled mirror of the sky. But despite my usual uneasiness when it comes to the murky depths beneath me, I feel safe. Somehow, I know Beck won’t let anything happen to us.
I’m hyperaware of Beck’s presence next to me as he guides us back with one hand placed in the water, using some kind of magic to gracefully steer the boat. I want to ask him so many questions, but I also don’t want to break this tranquil spell we’re in.
Whenever I sneak a look at him, though, I find his gaze already on me.
Much sooner than I’d have liked, the sprawling expanse of Cape Easton comes into view, the city’s bright lights a stark contrast to the serenity of Starry Hill. Audrey looks pointedly at me, wordlessly encouraging me to say something to Beck, but I honestly don’t know where to start, especially with her assessing eyes on us like that.
Once we glide into the harbor and Beck helps us out, Audrey turns to us with her hands on her hips. “Okay, kids. Either you two talk now or I’m going to lock you in a room together until you’ve had a proper conversation. I can’t stand these awkward silences anymore when you both have so much to catch up on. This is how it’s going to work. My blood sugar is getting low, so I’m heading up to the diner and stuffing my face with carbs. Eleanor, I’ll wait for you there. But, don’t you dare join me until you’ve both talked, or else.”
“Or else what?” I tease, both relieved at her pushing us like this but also not wanting her to get her way too easily.
The glint in Audrey’s eye has me second-guessing my comment. “Oh, I’ve got ideas, don’t you worry, but I think you’d prefer having a quiet chat here. Right?”
Beck steps forward and inclines his head toward Audrey. “Thank you for giving us time to talk. I won’t keep Eleanor busy for too long.”
With a very self-satisfied smirk, Audrey turns on her heels and saunters toward the diner as I stare up at Beck, grateful for him taking the lead, and pleased that it sounds like he wants to actually talk to me too.
“Would you like to sit down?” Beck asks, pointing at a bench seat facing the harbor.
“Sure. It might put us on more equal ground,” I try to joke, thinking about the entire foot I’m shorter than Beck.
Walking beside me as we head away from the boat, Beck tilts his head to the side, his shoulder-length hair a moonlit waterfall cascading to one side. “What do you mean?”
“Because you’re so tall and I’m so short. There might be less of a difference to look at each other if we’re both sitting down,” I say, my words getting slower as doubt creeps back in.
Beck shakes his head and states flatly. “I’m not that tall. Bodin is taller than me.”
“You’re certainly taller than when you were seven,” I remark, remembering one of our first summers together when we could still look each other directly in the eye.
“Ah, yes. Puberty changed many things,” Beck says with a slight rasp in his voice, his gaze briefly dipping to my breasts as a quick flurry of pearly scales flutters over his cheeks.
“Oh.” My breath catches and I quickly divert my eyes from doing a similar sweep down Beck’s body. Wanting to change the course of the conversation to a safer topic, I pivot to an apology as he settles onto the bench in front of us. “I’m sorry if Audrey pushed you into talking to me. You really don’t have to if you don’t want to.”
“I want to talk to you,” Beck says quickly, the words feeling like a breath of fresh air as he looks up at me with such openness, it makes me let my guard down too.
Sliding onto the bench next to him, I gather my courage and ask, “Why didn’t you call me after I gave you my number? It’s been months.”
A furrow forms between Beck’s brows, a look of uncertainty dancing across his face as he stares at me. “I didn’t know if you really wanted me to.”
“It was implied,” I whisper, not feeling angry at him, but perhaps a little hurt. Maybe I didn’t expect hugs and an instant full recap of what he’s been up to over the years, but I may have entertained the thought that he was almost as excited as me to see each other again.
“I’m not good at reading between the lines,” Beck says after a beat. “Creatures can be deceptive with their words sometimes.” The statement leaves me nearly breathless because it speaks of ancient hurts that no one deserves. Hurt, I can read in the defeated slump of Beck’s shoulders as he studies his shoes. Hurt, I vow to myself I will not inflict on him too.
