Page 58 of Just One More Thing

“They’re so cute.”

“No, Mo.”

“What?”

“Those warning signs are there for a reason.”

“Afraid we’ll take one home?”

“You do not want one of those monkeys. They used to be test animals for some nasty shit. They may look sweet, but God help us if they ever get off that island.”

I lean away from the edge of the boat. “I’d be okay getting farther away from them.”

He steers us wider. “You’ll hear the full Monkey Island story later.”

“Can’t wait.”

When there’s a lull in the breeze, you can feel how brutal the sun is today.

“Hey, you’re starting to look a little pink.”

He glances down at himself.

“I brought sunscreen. Want it?”

“Yes please.”

I dig through my tote, shake the bottle, squeeze some into my palm. “Back and shoulders?”

“That’d be great.”

The moment my hands touch his skin, he goes completely still. His shoulders tighten under my palms, then slowly ease. I can feel the heat of him. Solid muscle under sun-warmed skin. The steady rise and fall of his breathing. It reminds me to breathe.

My hands are shaking a little. I hope he doesn’t notice. I lift the bandana off his neck and smooth the sunscreen across and move to one shoulder, then the other, focusing hard on the motion instead of the fact that I’m touching him like this.

“You know,” I say carefully, “just because I’m leaving soon?—“

“It’s okay, Mo.” I feel him exhale. “I knew this wasn’t forever. I don’t have expectations.”

My hands stop. “But what if I did?”

The engine slows to an idle. He turns, meeting my eyes fully. “Do you?”

My gaze drops to his mouth and away again too late to pretend I didn’t. “Were you going to kiss me the other night?”

“Yes.”

Absolutely no hesitation. None.

“Why didn’t you?”

“You weren’t ready.”

I step closer. The space between us narrows until I can feel him without touching. My pulse goes wild. My thoughts go completely blank. I know I was about to say something. I have no idea what it was.

“You’re starting to look pink too,” he says softly.

The breath I let out is almost a laugh. I hand him the bottle and turn, lifting my hair. “Would you mind?”