Page 17 of Researching the Pole

“Grant, look at this.” I tugged at his sleeve.

“I see it.”

There it was again—my instinct to share with Grant. It felt so good to have him with me. I liked kissing him, snuggling with him, laughing with him, but also I really, really wanted to share things with him. Not just this. But everything. Shit. I was in big trouble, wasn’t I?

The seal was less than ten meters away now, its huge head tilted as it studied us with dark, intelligent eyes. This close, I could see the slight scars on its muzzle, the water droplets caught in its whiskers.

“Should we be worried right now?” Grant asked in a low voice.

“Not from up here. We’re not in the water. You know how leopard seals are infamous for being aggressive?” I murmured to Grant.

“Yeah.”

“As a researcher who has devoted my life to studying them, it pains me how they have been mis-characterized. Like any other apex predator, they are strong, ferocious, and territorial. That doesn’t mean they are evil.”

I glanced at him, and he was watching me intently. “Unlike humans, animals don’t have an agenda. They don’t set out to take revenge or plot torture.”

“I think it’s media. Movies. And then the one that killed the marine biologist in 2003 has made it worse.”

I nodded. “But she knew what she was doing. She was a gifted scientist. Very experienced. Anyone who comes out here, we know the risks.”

“Yeah. We do. It’s just human nature, Doc. We like to blame others.”

Our guy swam closer as if he could understand we were talking about him. It looked me right in the eye for a long moment and then dove again right next to our boat.

We waited, holding our breath. Something thumped against the side of the Zodiac. Grant leaned over carefully, and his eyebrows shot up. “Are you seeing this?”

I was. There, wedged between the inflatable tube and the rigid hull, was a fish. A dead Antarctic cod, its silvery scales catching the light. The seal was holding it in its jaws, watching us.

“Uhh. Did it just bring us food?” Grant stared at the fish, then at me, and back at the seal.

“I think, yes.” I was a bit stunned too.

The seal held that fish for another full minute before it disappeared.

“That’s not supposed to happen. They don’t do that. They only do that for other seals.” I babbled. “It’s a courting gesture. Is it confused?” Because I was so confused.

“I think it knows what it’s doing, Doc.” Grant’s voice was full of amusement. “Even the apex predators can’t help but have a crush on you.”

I blushed like a Southern belle. “Shut up. More like even it sees me as a stupid, helpless human.”

Grant threw his head back and laughed.

But over the next twenty minutes, that seal tried its darned best to feed me. Grant took my camera and filmed the whole thing because I was too busy being enthralled with this unbelievable behavior. We even sat on opposite sides at Grant’s insistence, and the seal came over to me, only me, every time. Were the seals also gay at the South Pole?

But there was no doubt. I was witnessing remarkable, intelligent behavior, and it might be enough to make people see the seals in a new light.

The more flustered and excited I got, the more Grant teased me, until he couldn’t hold back anymore and grabbed my face and kissed me right there. The kiss turned into a full make out. He hauled me onto his lap, and I forgot all about apex predators. I wanted him like my next breath. Kissing Grant and feeling his hard, muscular body did things to my brain that I didn’t know were possible.

The ride back to the station felt endless. The sun hung in the same position it had occupied all day, turning the ice-studded water into a field of glittering diamonds that hurt to look at. We finished our lunch sandwiches that he had packed.

Grant kept the throttle steady, his jaw tight, one hand on the steering console and the other resting on my knee. Every time the boat hit a wave, his fingers tightened. Every time I shifted in my seat, his eyes cut to me before returning to the water ahead. We didn’t speak. There was nothing to say that wouldn’t make this worse, that wouldn’t make us do something stupid like pull over at one of the rocky outcroppings and—

I forced the thought away and focused on the approaching dock.

Grant secured the Zodiac with quick, efficient movements. I tried to do my best to maneuver around to help despite my hard-on. We hauled our equipment up the ramp in silence, barely acknowledging the station worker who waved at us from near the main building.

As soon as the cabin door closed behind us with a decisive click, Grant was on me. His mouth found mine with desperate precision. I kissed him back just as hard, my hands reaching for the zipper of his outer layer. My fingers fumbled, and he made a delicious, frustrated sound against my mouth before pulling back just enough to yank at it himself.