A head of pink hair bounces up the stairs, followed by a blond, and to save myself from having to say something and to prevent myself from kissing the shit out of him, I bellow out, “Jett got bit by a triggerfish.”
Amy and Charlie swarm him, and I slip out of his personal bubble.
“Are you okay?” Amy asks, searching for the wound.
“I’ve told you about those asshole fish,” Charlie chides. “You can’t trust them as far as you can throw them. Mateo, he got bit.”
Mateo appears, then Oliver, and finally Doug and Molly, until they’re all surrounding him while I slink into the proverbial shadows. He’s stuck answering questions, leaving me to make a getaway to cool down from how much I liked the position I found myself in, how his words vibrated straight down to my core, how, in the heat of the battle of man versus fish, I made the decision I promised myself I would consider carefully.
He meets my gaze, and right before I slip through the door leading to the cabins, he mouths,Worth it.
It’s followed by the cockiest wink I’ve ever witnessed.
Yeah…I’m fucked.
Chapter 21
sofía
I’m going to be sick. Whether it’s the nerves or anticipation, I’m unsure.
I know he’s going to say yes—it was his idea in the first place—but the buildup is making me jumpy.
Other liveaboard passengers line up for dinner, piling their plates with food, and I wait at the end with a scant appetite, given what I’m about to do.
I’m about to take a hammer to every rule I’ve created for myself.
A mess of brown hair descends the stairs, and my heart leaps and does a small little flip in my chest. Jett scans the eating area, and when he lands on me, his face transforms into a thing of wonder and beauty.
I can’t say I’ve ever been on the receiving end of a smile like that. I hate how much I like it.
“Did you see what’s for dinner?” he asks, standing at the back of the line with me.
My mouth dries, and I’m mute as we shuffle forward. He steps in front of me, taking two plates and handing me one. “Do you want salad with the mac and cheese?”
“There’s mac and cheese?” I ask.
He nods, and for a split second—one I’m not proud of—the thought that I might be naked with him later and wouldn’t want to be bloated crosses my mind. It’s a punch in the gut, and I try to shake it away. He gives me an odd look before scooping a pile of gooey, cheesy noodles onto my plate and adding a small piece of chicken. A few green beans and some salad, and he swaps the plate with the empty one in my hand.
“Sit down. I’ll grab us some silverware.”
I mutely walk to the table where our friends surround a camera, watching the video Doug captured on an earlier dive. Sliding into a seat beside Oliver, I watch the unassuming coral until the footage flickers, mottled browns shifting to burnt red, and the animal magically appears, revealing its location.
“It’s a cuttlefish,” Charlie says. “Doug has laser-sharp eyesight, because we all missed it on the dive this morning.”
“We saw a whole school of maori wrasse, too,” Amy says, before shoveling chicken into her mouth. “And Oliver saw a whitetip reef shark.”
The Brit in question snaps his gaze to her, and after prolonged eye contact, she pulls away, asking Molly a question about cuttlefish. I elbow Oliver in the side, and he lifts an eyebrow.
“We cleared the air, I think. As much as we could.” He sighs. “It’s…fine.”
Jett appears at my side in typical fashion—silently. “What are we talking about?”
“Cuttlefish,” Oliver blurts.
Hmm.
I let the oddity go. Heaven knows I have enough shit I don’t want to talk about, so if Oliver doesn’t want to speak to Jett about his problems with Amy, that’s fine by me. Jett misses the tension and dives into conversation about cuttlefish, and naturally, it shifts to everyone giving him a hard time.
