I channel my inner-dolphin.
Here I go.
I hop and splash into the pool, expecting the cold to breach my lungs and steal my breath and fix everything.
Instead, the water warms my bones.
What. In the world.
I ungracefully surface, spitting chlorine water out of my mouth, the temperature of a bath. This did not go as planned. I comb my wet hair out of my face and eyes, and I try to heave my body out of the pool. I don’t struggle for too long. Lo squats in front of me and lifts underneath my arms, so effortlessly.
I graze his features, lusting after his sheer masculinity. Snap out of it, Lily. I blink quickly, hoping he’ll morph into a monster.
Not so. Loren Hale is striking and gorgeous through and through. If he possesses any monstrous qualities, they’re layered with beauty.
“Why are you so pretty?” I say.
His amber eyes penetrate me. “Just think about how awful I look in the morning.”
I let out a small laugh. “You’re still beautiful.”
He lifts my chin so I stop staring at his lips. “Lily Calloway,” he breathes, “you’re doing really well. I’m proud of you.” My heart swells.
He knows I’m aroused. He knows how hard it is to snuff out these feelings that pop up from almost anything and everything.
Dripping in water, I kiss his nose quickly, showing that I’m able to control this. Somewhat. And I choose the lounge chair next to his, lying down. “If I Jedi mind-trick myself, all will be well,” I tell him with a nod. I shut my eyes to attempt this.
I hear the legs of his lounge chair scrape along the deck. The frame touches mine, and he lies on his towel, close to me but not too close. A perfect non-tempting distance.
“You should know, Lil,” he says in a low voice, “that every guy on this yacht has the hairiest goddamn feet. It’s nothing but hobbits.”
I smile, my eyes still closed. Although Frodo is cute, I’m pro-elves. “Are they all short too?”
“Oh yeah, they barely reach your waist.”
“Except you,” I say, licking my lips.
“I’m not an elf,” he reminds me.
I pop one eye open and turn my head. He’s lying on his back like me. “You’re a wizard—”
“No, Lil,” he whispers. “I’m human.”
I shift on my side, my legs crossed together. I reach out to hold his hand, and he lets me, not scared of enabling. “Do you think our baby will have powers though? Even if we’re human, he could be magical?”
Lo nods determinedly. “Definitely. He’ll be the strongest guy ever.”
“Like Professor Xavier,” I smile at the image. But it fades quickly. “Do you think…do you think he’ll forget about us, if we’re just human and he’s something more?” Beads of water roll down my temple.
Lo’s hand rises to my arm, and he rubs my skin soothingly. The embrace comforts me more than it arouses. “I don’t know,” he says honestly. “I guess we’ll see.”
Yeah. I guess we will.
I’ve drawn closer to Lo, I realize, my ankle hooked over his, but it’s not a sexual action. It’s just a natural one.
* * *
While Lo grabs waters from inside, I decide to wade in the pool for longer than a couple seconds this time. I’ve been scrolling through his cellphone. Not the best idea since that picture of me bent over, reaching for sunglasses, has turned into an internet meme. My brows crinkle at the dozens of photoshopped images. There’s one where Ryke grabs me from behind instead of just standing there.
Where I’m reaching for a dildo instead of sunglasses.
Where Loren and Ryke are cropped out and replaced by hot dogs.
It’s awful. Though their photoshop skills are pretty good. I have to give them credit for that.
“Connor,” Rose says, her lounge chair scooted next to his. A paperback perched on his lap, his hand has yet to leave her bare neck. He massages her while she clutches an empty ice bucket. Rose risked vomiting again to join me outside.
It takes a solid second to realize that Rose commanded him to do something since she’s out of commission. Connor needs no more info to read her well.
He just stretches forward and steals my phone right from me. And then he settles back, his hand returning to Rose like nothing just happened.
“That was mean,” I tell him. “I was doing important research.”
“If I didn’t do it, she would’ve tried,” Connor explains, passing the cell to my sister. “And I don’t want my wife moving around.”
Rose searches through the phone’s history and then gives me a cold look.
I raise my hands out of the pool. “They were hard to avoid.”
“The more you stare at these, the more paranoid you become. If anyone is jumping overboard, it’s me.” She went from slaughtering the boat to drowning herself. I take it that she’s feeling pretty lousy still.
Connor flips a page in his book and says something in French.
She replies back, shutting her eyes tightly. He pulls her closer to his side, his arm sliding around her shoulders. Hugging her in comfort. He whispers another French word and then kisses her forehead.
I frown, wishing I could understand them. Even with my studying, I can only pick up a few words here and there. I block the sun with my fingers and scrutinize the spine on Connor’s book. A smile replaces my frown. It’s C.S. Lewis’ The Voyage of the Dawn Treader.
For Christmas, I gifted Connor the entire Chronicles of Narnia series. Normal people ask for things they want for Christmas, but Connor asked us to gift him things we like. He consumed Lo’s present—G.R.R. Martin’s Song of Fire and Ice series—in a matter of three weeks. Now he must be working on my gift.
With a happier mood, my gaze drifts and lands on Ryke and Daisy, both of which sit on the silver railing near the stern. We’re anchored, so the yacht doesn’t wobble too badly. Daisy takes off her shirt, and Ryke wears her hairband around his wrist. Her blonde hair and dyed green tips are tangled and slightly frizzy.
I’m too far away to pick up their conversation, though Ryke smiles and that says enough.
“They’re a good couple,” I say aloud. And then I turn back to Rose and Connor, leaning my arms against the ledge. “Why does the media insist on destroying something beautiful?”
Rose slips her Chanel sunglasses on, her knee curved towards Connor, almost lying on her side. She seems more relaxed though.
Connor glances at Rose, his hand placed on her thigh. “Is this a rhetorical question?”
“I think so.”
It wasn’t, but maybe there isn’t an answer.
Connor ditches his book to scroll through his phone, glimpsing at Rose every half minute to check on her. And when his eyes fix back on the cell, he suddenly frowns. “Lily, did you…” Even though his chair is propped up, he sits even straighter. “You joined Twitter?”
“Just for two seconds,” I say, raising my hands again. It was really hard finding a username since variations of “Lily Calloway” were already taken by fans. I ended up with @lilycallowayX23, and I sent a total of three very important tweets.
“Right now?” he asks. “You joined Twitter five minutes ago, while we were all sitting here?”
I squint. “Is this a rhetorical question?”
Rose snatches his phone to confirm. “I don’t understand why you always use that OTP thing.”