Page 37 of Kissing Flynn

“Taking notes so you can stalk me after all this?” I ask, waving a hand around to encompass the yacht, the sea, and the island.

“Of course,” she says, completely straight-faced for a few beats until her grin breaks free.

“I have a condo in Los Feliz,” I answer. “You’re in Santa Monica, right? Close to the beach?”

“Now, who’s the stalker?” she asks, arching a brow at me.

“Milo mentioned it once,” I say with a shrug.

Milo hardly ever talks about Max to me, so anytime he mentions her, I commit every single detail to memory. I’m not even sure I do it on purpose. It’s as automatic as breathing.

She nods, saying, “My apartment is tiny, but the balcony faces the Pacific with a clear view of the water, so it’s worth the exorbitant rent I have to pay to live there.”

“There’s this amazing pizza place on Ocean Avenue,” I start, and she sits up with a gasp, cutting me off.

“Rosanti’s.”

“That’s the place,” I say.

“Their triple meat is to die for,” she says, swooning back against the couch cushions once more.

“You still order the same thing you did in college,” I say softly.

“You remember that?” she asks.

“I remember everything,” I say, then clear my throat. “We should hit Rosanti’s for dinner when we get back.”

“Flynn Nightingale, are you asking me out on a date?” she asks in a teasing voice.

“The first of many, I hope,” I say, exposing my metaphorical soft underbelly.

“I’d love to get pizza with you,” she whispers, and my insides warm.

“It’s a date,” I whisper back, and it takes every ounce of strength I possess not to lean over and kiss her right here in front of everyone.

A staff member appears, leaning down to murmur something to Barnard, who nods in response. The old man stands up, making sure everyone’s eyes are on him before he speaks.

“Captain Porter has dropped anchor so you all can cool off and enjoy the water. There’s a sandbar off the starboard side. We have chairs and tubes near the stern if you’d like to relax in the shallows. We also have snorkeling equipment if you’re feeling a little more adventurous. Have fun. Lunch will be served in two hours.”

By tacit agreement, Max and I wait to see what Lars and Peter choose before making our decision. The two men head straight for the snorkeling gear, and Max jerks her head toward the tubes with a questioning look on her face. I nod, and we each grab one before holding hands and jumping off the back of the boat into the clear, salty water.

I watch as she hoists herself over the float onto her stomach, then flips so her ass sinks into the hole in the middle like it’s no big deal. She watches me expectantly, and I try to copy the move. Only I don’t judge my strength correctly and end up sailing right over the thing to belly flop into the water. I hear Max’s tinkling laughter when I resurface, and I shoot her a stern look before trying again.

This time, I land in the right spot, but when I try to flip onto my back, the whole tube flips with me. I come up sputtering, and Max’s laughter is even louder this time. Baring my teeth and growling, I lunge in her direction. She squeals and tries to get off her float, but I’m on her before she can escape. Dipping beneath the surface, I grab the side of her float and push it up with all my might, flipping her off it with a clumsy splash.

I roar with victory as she pops up, her soaked red hair covering her face. I swim closer with a chuckle, pushing her hair back so I can see her pouting expression. Looking back toward the boat and seeing no one, I lean in and nibble at her bottom lip until she kisses me back, making my blood sing.

When we break apart, we’re both grinning. I gather our tubes, and we both end up floating in the center with them tucked up beneath our armpits, our feet teasing each other beneath the water and out of sight of anyone who might spot us out here.

After a while, we kick our way over to the sandbar where the water is shallow and sit on the tubes while the sun heats our skin. Max lets out a long, languid sigh, and I look over at her.

“This is so nice,” she says. “It’s like we’re all alone out here on our own private vacation.”

I decide right here and now that I’ll take her on a real vacation someday. Somewhere private and tropical like this where we can kiss and act like lovers without worry or scrutiny.

The yacht’s horn blows, startling us, and I awkwardly maneuver my way out of the tube to stand in the calf-deep water before giving Max a hand to help her out of hers. I hold onto her for a beat longer than necessary, and she squeezes my hand in response.

Once we’re back on the boat, we have to wait a few minutes for Lars and Peter to return before lunch is served. As soon as they arrive, the galley staff roll out a buffet cart laden with sandwiches, fresh fruit, bags of potato chips, and a variety of sodas, juices, and bottled waters. While I’m filling my plate, Barnard sidles up next to me to fill his own.

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