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The ants had me getting to my feet. No, thank you to a million little bites. “Fine.”
“Finally.”
I headed in the wrong direction just to fuck with him.
“We have a fucking curfew.”
“And?” I asked, following the curve of the shore.
“We are going to lose privileges if we aren’t back.”
“I think that was only for the rehab folks. Do you really think they’re going to do bed checks?” I didn’t want to go back and face reality, and I kind of liked that Royal was following me.
“I don’t fucking know, but if they take away alcohol, I might not have the will to live.”
I rolled my eyes at him, about to tell him he had a problem when my mouth dropped open. “Holy shit.”
“What?” Royal asked.
“Look.”
“I’m not avoiding looking at you,” Royal scoffed.
“Not at me, at the water, fucktard.”
The water glowed blue. Lit with bioluminescent plankton. I’d seen it years ago on the internet and had no idea it was real.
“What the fuck is that?” Royal grabbed me and pulled me out of the water.
“What are you doing?”
“What if it’s toxic?” he said like I was a moron.
I hadn’t considered that. “Wouldn’t they warn us when we checked in if it was?” I said, not sure he was wrong, but I was in the mood to argue.
“Not if we should be in our fucking beds because of the curfew.”
“Fine. I won’t go in the water. But I want to stay and watch.” I backed up and sat back down.
“Will you please come back to the bungalow?”
I shoved to my feet. “You’re right. This is far too romantic a moment to share with a homophobe.”
We walked back to the bungalow in silence, and when we slipped inside, another unresolved issue hit me. There was only one bed, and I was sure he hadn’t gotten in touch with Levi or our case manager.
“I’ll take the couch.”
Royal’s stare burned into my cheek, but I refused to look at him as I stripped off my wet jeans. I had boxers on, so he could deal.
I ditched my shirt and then found a non-sandy one to pull on.
“Are you not going to shower?”
“No?” I asked. He’d never asked me if I was going to shower before.
“You can’t sleep in here sandy.”
“When have you ever cared about how I slept? I’m pretty sure you’ve slept next to me after I laid half-drunk off my ass in an alley.” Or worse, when I’d had the shit kicked out of me and was a bloody mess.
