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I have to make it worth her while.
Just breathe, Flynn. Traffic in Greece is horrible. Right? Isn’t that a thing?
I scratch my jaw which is smooth, if not a little irritated from shaving first thing this morning. I stare out at the blue-green waters. I’ve never been one for yachting, but that’s a requirement when it comes to the lifestyle I’ve chosen. Two weeks on a boat is… not ideal. I’m already picturing myself knocking my head on a low doorframe or the showerhead.
Even the most mega of yachts fail to cater to us tall guys.
The boat is docked a little down the way. I’ve managed to stay out of sight, not wanting to be recognized by any of Adelaide’s old friends. I’ve been watching as a steward with space buns is greeting guests at the gangplank while the crew is grabbing the overabundance of luggage.
I have had a few weeks to prepare for this. But there’s not enough preparation in the world that could make this situation any easier.
“Flynn!”
I leap into the air at the shock of hearing my name. “Christ!” I turn around and find Stella rushing down the dock toward me. Her brown curls are pulled back into a messy mop on her head and sweat is dripping off her brow. More noticeable, though, is her outfit. Striped overalls that make her look like a fucking train conductor over a light cotton blouse that is so see-through I can make out the shadow of her collarbone through it. And some beat-up Tevas. Dear God.
“I was – looking for you –” she says breathlessly, skittering to a stop in front of me with her bright purple suitcase. “Didn’t you – my calls –”
“Your calls?”
“I was calling, I couldn’t – couldn’t find – “
I pull my phone out and notice I don’t have any bars. “Shit, I didn’t have service. I’m sorry, I –”
“No worries. It’s…” Stella holds up her hand.Give me a minute. She grabs her shirt and fans it away from her chest. “Jesus Christ it’s hot here.”
“It’s the Med.”
“It’s the Med,” she replies in a mocking tone.
I roll my eyes. This is already off to a bad start. “You know you can’t talk to me like that once we’re on the boat. We talked about this.”
“I know, I know. I’m just getting it out of my system,” she says, then takes a deep breath, putting on a serene smile. “Okay, I’m better now. Hello, honey.”
My body braces at her term of endearment. She always says it facetiously, but it does feel nice to have someone call me that, even if we’re faking. “Hello, dear.”
“Dear? How old are we, Flynn?”
“What do you want me to call you? Darling? Lover?”
“Lover?! Eww! That’s so –”
“Stella,” I scold, taking a step closer to her. “What did I say?”
She demurs her head to the side, fluttering her lashes. “Even people in a relationship give each other shit, Flynn.”
I suddenly realize how close I’ve gotten to her. I can smell her perfume mixed with her sweat, sweet and salty at once. It’s… intoxicating. I clear my throat and take a step back. “Just don’t make a sour face when I try to be sweet to you, alright?”
“Then don’t look like I’ve just kneed you in the balls when I call you ‘honey’,” Stella says dryly.
Is that really how I looked when she said it?
Stella nods her head toward the yacht. “That the boat?” Then, she starts walking in that direction.
I follow her, dragging my suitcase behind me. “Woah, slow down.”
“Why? Doesn’t it leave port in half an hour?”
“Stella, we need to talk about what you’re wearing,” I say. Even though she’s set a quick pace, my long legs keep me on an even keel.
