Page 79 of Blue in the Deep Blue Sea

“You can come in.”

I let go of the handle and took two steps back.

The handle pressed down, and he eased the door open before stepping inside, his arms full of packages he’d found at the shore. He was soaked from the sea. His linen shirt clung to his chest, his trousers nearly see-through.

He cleared his throat as he walked past me and set the food on the kitchen counter.

“I have no idea if any of this is good,” he said. “But the bread seemed alright.” Turning to face me, he added, “You have to eat something.”

“What about you?” I asked, meeting his eyes as I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear.

“I’ll eat something else.”

His gaze drifted to my lips before lowering to my collarbone, then the V-neck of my shirt. The cool morning air had already hardened my nipples beneath the thin fabric. I couldn’t tell if he’d noticed, but I was grateful I’d changed out of yesterday’s clothes.

“Okay,” I said, walking towards the table where papers lay scattered across its surface. I still hadn’t gone through them all, and I didn’t want to. The more I knew, the more it hurt.

The purse he’d placed there last night sat in the corner of the table. I recognized the small brown pouch instantly. It was mine.

“This…” I picked it up, slipped the elastic off, and reached inside. My fingers closed around a cassette player, the same one that still held the only cassette I’d found in 2001. I slid it out and smiled. “I wonder if it survived.”

“I doubt it,” he said, twisting open one of the small bottles of water from the pack of six he’d collected earlier.

I pressed play, but nothing came through. I unplugged the headphones still attached to it, opened the side compartment, and pulled out the cassette.

A smile tugged at my lips as I turned it over in my hands. “I wonder what song I left it on.”

He looked over, set the bottle on the counter, and walked towards me. “Where did you get that?” he asked, his voice suddenly serious, reaching for the tape.

“Hey.” I pulled it back before he could take it. “It’s mine.”

A smile flickered across his face. “Did you record every song on it?”

“No.” I shook my head, meeting his gaze. “But the songs on it healed me when no one else could.”

He stepped closer, leaving barely any space between us. My chin lifted on instinct as he towered over me. Every step he took forced one from me until my back met the wall.

One hand braced against it beside my head as he leaned in.

“I lost that tape in 2001,” he murmured. “At the Light Festival. In Annie’s car.”

His breath brushed against my lips. The fingers of his other hand curled beneath my chin, tilting my face up to his.

“Didn’t you notice the first letters of the songs spell outI hate you?”

I swallowed.

“No.” I shook my head, my whole body betraying me as his words sent a shiver racing down my spine.

“Technically, I hated y…” He gave a quiet huff of amusement. “Since I started collecting them. But I couldn’t find a single valid reason to hate you.”

“So…” I breathed, barely louder than a whisper. “You don’t hate me?”

“Maybe.” He smirked, his eyes never leaving mine.

I parted my lips, watching him, trying to guess his next move, but I didn’t expect this.

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath.