Page 41 of Special Delivery

The others are already on the deck, so thankfully, no one saw. I’m still shaken from the smallest of touches when I sit at the table plated with breakfast.

Anthony informs us we have about an hour until we reach our destination, where they’ll equip us with snorkeling gear to swim with the turtles. A flame of excitement lights up in my belly, one that was extinguished for years.

Swimming with turtles is one of the things on my bucket list from when I dreamed of traveling the world. It’s a vague, distant feeling, like getting a doll that you wished for as a kid once you’re an adult, but it’s still fucking cool.

The hour passes quickly, and soon we’re getting ready to dive. I ask Emma to apply an extra layer of sunscreen on my back since the sun can still burn my skin underwater. My tongue darts out unintentionally when Ryan takes his shirt off before clipping the snorkel vest across his chest. He squats down to put on his fins, making the muscles of his thighs flex. A memory of how hard those muscles are pops into my head, and my nipples pebble under the vest.

Thank God for it.

We get into the water one by one, and Ryan’s muscles are soon forgotten. From the vibrant turquoise waters, the colorful fish, and the yellow and green corals, you can’t be anything but present in the moment. Jordan takes a few videos of us with her camera before I drift off on my own.

Not even ten feet away from the crowd, I see the first turtle. She swims nonchalantly, without a care in the world, her small flippers gently fighting the currents. In two strokes, I’m closer. She’s still undisturbed by my presence, traveling this vast ocean all alone. For a second, I stare, mesmerized, wishing I could do the same. Wishing I could ignore all the outside and inside voices and just do what my heart truly desires. Preferably on the gorgeous white sandy beaches, just like her.

A figure appears in the distance, and I realize it’s Ryan. His camera is up, photographing the turtle. And me.

My lips pull up into a smile beneath my mouthpiece. It’s enough to make a drop of water enter my windpipe and make me cough violently. In a rush, I break the surface, spitting the mouthpiece out and inhaling some air. Ryan surfaces right after and starts slapping my back. It does nothing since we’re both in the water, so I start laughing as soon as I’m able to breathe.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

“Yeah, you really saved me there.”

He splashes water in my face, only widening my grin. “What happened?”

“You scared me and I inhaled some water.”

He shakes his head before motioning to his right. “Come on.”

I open my mouth to ask where, but his hand wraps around mine. A gentle tingle travels up my arm, settling into my chest, and any other thoughts disappear.

Positioning the mouthpiece back into my mouth, I dive in the direction he showed. I follow his deliberate strokes until we reach a beautiful coral reef. My lungs expand, staring at the gorgeous colors in front of me, but I barely suppress a scream when a massive stingray swims in front of us. It’s the length of my legs and the width of Ryan and me put together. My legs kick excitedly, and he takes my hand again, calming me down. The less commotion we make, the more animals we’ll probably see. The calmness pays off in less than a minute, when we’re greeted by the presence of a nurse shark.

My heart rate picks up as exhilaration overtakes me. The shark passes, and we both resurface to catch a breath. I’m the first to dive back in, deep enough to reach the corals. Touching them would hurt them, but I try to get closer to memorize every color and detail. Ryan follows, taking pictures. I guess I’ll appear in every photo he has of this trip. That gives me an idea. I should take his photo.

I point to him, then to me, and then pretend I’m holding a camera in a very obvious attempt to confer my message. Unfortunately, it falls on deaf ears. So, I reach my hand out to grab it from him. Sharp pain travels through my flesh, making me wince. I glance down, noticing I must’ve snagged a poor coral with my hand, which is currently bleeding, with a nasty gash between my thumb and index finger.

The wound burns, but my legs start flailing for a different reason. Sharks. There are sharks here and I’m bleeding.

Anthony gave us a brief introduction to the animals we’ll see today. Nurse sharks are docile, slow-moving and rarely aggressive, but I’m still bleeding in shark-infested waters.

I lose control of my body, panic overtaking me, when something wraps around my torso, pulling me up to the surface. A shriek escapes me as I spit out the mouthpiece, holding my hand high in the air as blood drips down my arm.

“It’s okay,” a voice says, and I realize Ryan is swimming me to the boat, our masks glued together.

I’m no help, but he gets us to the steps of the boat in record time. Pressing a foot to the bottom step, he uses the resistance to lift me onto the deck.

“What happened?” Dad swims to us, his eyes wide behind his mask.

Ryan jumps up to the deck, opening my palm gently to check my arm. “Just a minor cut. It’s okay.”

With my other hand, I take off the mask while focusing on my breathing. In, out. In, out. In, out. Once it finally settles, I realize Ryan’s right. The cut isn’t bad at all. The blood must have mixed with water, making it look worse, but I still overreacted.

I clear my throat of the lump that formed. “I’m fine. Sorry to scare you guys. I think I just got scared… because of the blood.”

Ryan rolls his lips, holding a smile, and my own lips pull up. Jordan raises her thumb and dives back in.

The boat’s crew all appear on the deck. “Don’t worry, Miss Simms. We can clean the wound and patch you right up.”

“That’s okay, I’ll do it. I just need the medical kit,” Ryan says before scooping me up from the ground as if I weigh nothing. I try not to focus on the spots where his hands are holding me, the heat of them burning my skin. “Can you take the kit?”