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“Marine biology,” I replied, my voice husky and harsh.
“That’s so cool. So you, like, swim with whales and sharks all day?”
“I—”
“He flatly refuses to go in the ocean.” Neri stood upright, planting her hands on her indecently curved hips. “Don’t you, Aslan?”
My nostrils flared as I glowered at her across the small space. “If you’re trying to shame me, it won’t work.”
“Shame you?” Neri placed a hand over her heart. “I’d never dream of doing such a nasty thing. I’m merely trying to save you the horror of being asked to go skinny-dipping later.”
Rita laughed loudly. “Ooo, you’re gonna be fun.” She patted the blanket next to her. “Come sit by me, Nerida, and tell me all about your family friend’s secrets.”
My heart almost broke through my ribs.
She wouldn’t.
Would she?
I subtly shook my head as Neri brushed away leaves stuck to her knees.
All it would take was for her to tell them what I truly was.
In a single drunken whisper, she could sign my death warrant.
“Neri...” I murmured, never taking my eyes off hers. I couldn’t say the word, but I shouted it as loudly as I could with my stare.
Don’t.
With a shiver and a strange look in her stunning ice-blue eyes, Neri abandoned the camping stove and sat next to Rita.
She didn’t speak to me and jumped a little as Molly passed her a bottle full of heinously pink liquid. “Watermelon vodka. I think it’s time we got this party started, don’t you?”
With a smile that didn’t reach her eyes, Neri nodded. “Right. Let’s have some fun.”
She stressed the word fun.
She made my heart patter the same way it had last night when Jack had told me to enjoy his daughter.
My skin had tightened.
My body had hardened.
And I’d cursed myself the moment Neri had stormed to her bedroom because as much as Jack had meant it innocently—as much as Jack trusted me to keep Neri safe and had given me his ultimate faith the moment I saved her from drowning—he had to be absolutely blind not to sense the hum of electricity between his daughter and me.
A hum that only grew louder as Neri grew older.
When she was twelve, it’d been ignorable.
When she was thirteen, it’d been a gentle burn.
When she was fourteen, it’d been an itch I couldn’t scratch.
But now she was fifteen?
Fuck me, it was agonising.
I’d done my best to fight it.
