Page 185 of Pull Me Under

‘Modest as ever.’

‘I’ve earned the right to be smug.’

He laughs. Slides an arm around my waist, pulling me against his side. I let him. More than let him – I lean into it, into him, into the solid warmth of a man who spent five months proving he meant what he said in that Bristol garden.

It wasn’t easy. I didn’t make it easy. But he showed up, again and again, even when I pushed back. Even when I tested him. Even when I needed to be sure he wasn’t going to bolt the moment things got hard.

He didn’t bolt.

‘Nervous?’ I ask.

‘Terrified.’

‘Good. You should be. University’s full of bright young things who actually remember how to study.’

‘Thanks for the vote of confidence.’

‘I’m just saying. You’re going to be the old man of the cohort.’

‘I’m twenty-eight.’

‘Just,’ I correct, thinking back to his recent birthday when we surfed until our muscles ached and then ate pasties dusted with sand snuggled under a blanket in the cove. Then I grin and add, ‘Practically ancient.’

He pinches my hip and I squirm away, laughing.

It still surprises me sometimes. The laughing. The ease of it. After everything that happened – the hospital, Bristol, the weeks of careful rebuilding – I didn’t know if we’d ever get back to this. To a life that feels like it contains so much joy I don’t know how to handle it without exploding.

But here we are.

‘What time’s your train?’ I ask.

‘Eleven. Kit’s driving me to the station.’

‘And you’ve got everything? Books, laptop, that ridiculous amount of stationery you bought⁠—’

‘Brynn.’ He turns me to face him. Both hands on my waist. ‘I’m going to Plymouth, not the moon. I’ll be back every weekend.’

‘You’d better be. Someone needs to crew the lifeboat and I’m not trusting Bill with her when Cal isn’t on shift.’

‘Wouldn’t dream of it. Kit’s back now, anyway, he’s deputy.’ His shoulders relax, easing as he remembers the pressure that suffocated him only a few months ago is no longer his burden alone.

He kisses me. Slow and warm, tasting like coffee and salt air and the future we’re building together.

When he pulls back, his eyes are soft. ‘Thank you.’

‘For what?’

‘For pushing me. For not letting me hide behind duty and obligation and all the excuses I made for staying stuck.’ He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. ‘I’d still be on the Mary Jane if it weren’t for you. Still pretending I didn’t want more.’

‘You’d have figured it out eventually.’

‘Maybe. But you made me brave enough to actually do something about it.’

I don’t have words for that. So I kiss him again instead.

The sign above the boat shed still makes me smile.

Trelawney & Harding Marine Services