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So instead we walk around town, looking in shop windows. Orca’s hand catches on my arm whenever she sees something she wants to ask me about. Her laughter is my new favorite sound, snatched up by the wind and street noise. Bursts of music and air conditioning spill from the open doors of shops, which I pull Orca into just to see her reaction. Stores, art galleries, coffee shops—she’s never seen anything so “magnificent and otherworldly” in her life.
But I’ve never seen anything as magnificent as her—sunlight flashing off the waves, lighting up her long, messy hair. We’re standing at the edge of the harbor now, looking out at the deep blue water and all the glossy white boats bobbing gently on the tide.
“Let’s go sneak onto the yachts,” I whisper into her ear.
“What’s a yacht?” she says.
“I’ll show you.”
I grew up in marinas, running the docks and sneaking onto empty boats. It’s not new to me, and it’s not the first time I’ve done this with a girl either—but I don’t want to remember the other times. Orca makes all my memories feel like black-and-white photographs of someone else’s life.
“This seems wrong,” she says, giggling, as I whisk her aboard a shiny yacht called the Aphrodite.
“It’s not, I swear. I know the owner.”
“Really?”
“I mean… I know he’s a millionaire.”
Orca snort-laughs, and I decide that’s my new favorite sound. She leads the way to the bow, her skirt rippling in the wind, her sunlit fingers skimming over the rail. When she reaches the front of the boat, she stands facing the wind, taking in the view.
“Can you imagine sailing around the world in one of these?”
Orca shakes her head. “No, I can’t imagine.”
“Wouldn’t it be awesome, though? To be out there all on your own, nothing to hold you back… To sleep under the stars every night and do absolutely nothing all day?”
She laughs. “You have a way of making everything sound so fun and romantic.”
“It would be. Fun and romantic. We should go together.”
“All right,” she says, turning to grin up at me. “When do we sail, Captain Stevenson?” The sunglasses are off now, folded in her hand—and god, those eyes. They flick back and forth between mine, blue and sparkling like everything around us. Her face is so close, it would only take a split second to get my lips on hers.
Damn it. I can’t wait any longer.
I decide to just kiss her, right now. What’s the worst that could happen? When I see her gaze shift to my lips, I know it’s okay to move in. My hand drifts to her waist, and the space between us slowly shrinks to a few inches, and we’re so close to actually doing it when—
THUD.
The boat rocks.
Footsteps.
I freeze, and Orca gasps, looking up at me.
“We should probably get out of here,” I whisper, holding back a laugh.
We run, leaving the kiss-that-didn’t-happen behind us. I take Orca’s hand and lead her down the starboard deck, narrowly escaping in the nick of time. Orca’s eyes widen as I vault over the side of the boat and land on the dock below. She sits on the edge but looks too scared to jump, so I reach up and grab her waist. She gasps my name as I lift her down, her fingers gripping my shoulders and sliding down my chest. It feels way too good.
“Thanks,” she whispers, looking up at me.
“You’re welcome,” I whisper back, my hands still on her hips.
That’s when voices from the yacht catch my attention and snap me out of it.
“Come on,” I say, and we run like fugitives all the way back to shore, dodging tourists and mariners on the docks.
We’re both laughing and out of breath by the time we get back to the street. I’m starving, and I’m sure Orca is too, so we grab pizza at the best place in town and sit on a bench, facing each other with the box between us.
