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“It’s really good. Your writing always has been. I can still remember those letters you’d write to me between classes in high school. I was always in awe of your ability to put words together.”
I saw her blush as she grinned into her wine glass.
“And there they go,” I said.
Chanel whipped her head up as Ana and Tommy left arm-in-arm from the dining room.
“Which room do you think they’ll end up in?” she asked.
“Not gonna lie, if Tommy can get into your room, he will,” I said.
“Great,” she groaned.
“If you want, you could join me on the bow. I was headed there anyway after this dinner,” I said.
“Where all the lounge chairs are?” she asked. I nodded. “We could keep talking or we could stargaze. I’ve also heard rumors about a twenty-four seven pizzeria and soft-serve ice cream machine over that way.”
“You had me at pizza,” she said with a grin.
“Ah, so you’re still a pizza fanatic,” I said as I got up.
“Not a chance I’d give up pizza, though I pile more vegetables on than I used to.”
“Not a three-meat lover any longer?”
“Nope. I developed this fun little thing called heartburn. I guess that’s what happens when people get old.”
“Hey, we aren’t old. We aren’t even thirty yet.”
“That’s old compared to our high school days,” she said.
“True,” I said.
“I take it you know the way to the bow of the ship?” she asked. “Because I sure as hell don’t.”
“I’d better, or my former commanding officers would be seriously disappointed in me.”
I held out my hand to her, hoping she would take it. Her eyes settled on the gesture, and I could see that sea of questions kick up a bit. The boat was gliding smoothly along the ocean, the waves lightly rocking us in the process. Her eyes slid back up to mine, dancing along my face before she sighed.
Then, she slipped her perfect little hand into mine as memories came crashing back.
Her hand was just as warm and soft as I remembered it, and part of me wondered if I could intentionally get us lost so I could hold onto it a little longer.
CHAPTER 5
CHANEL
His hand was strong around mine as he led me out onto the bow of the ship. The deck was beautiful, and the sunset over the ocean was perfect. It was mirrored precisely as the ship cut right into the picture of it all, and I felt compelled to photograph it. I set my drink down on the ledge of the ship and grabbed my camera, snapping pictures to try and capture the beauty of what I was witnessing.
But I could feel Rhett’s eyes on me the entire time.
I was ready to talk with him, to give him a piece of my mind about everything that had transpired between us. My boiling blood was thrashing about like the waves of the ocean, crimson red like my wine and glowing with heated delight like the sunset setting before my eyes. I turned around and captured an entire picture of the ship from my point of view, trying to put space in between Rhett and me. Despite how angry I was with him, I could feel the tension brewing between us the moment I had decided to take his hand.
What a stupid fucking move for me to make. But I couldn’t avoid the warmth I still felt when I was near him. After all this fucking time, and all that fucking heartache. Damn him.
The entire time we walked, I felt his hand flex. I felt the strength in his fingers and the calluses rubbing against my palm. I could see his back working underneath the tightness of his button-down shirt, a shirt that was too fucking small for him.
Part of me wanted to rip it off him before I smacked him across his face, just so I could run my fingertips down the muscles I knew the fabric of his clothes covered.
