Page 22 of Delirium

I knew taking James on board had been a mistake the minute he emailed me, feeding me bullshit about being the only one he trusted to get him up and down the river in one piece.

Bullshit. That’s all it was. I smelled it from a mile away, and still some stupid part of my brain was hopeful that everything he said was true, that he wanted to put bygones in the past, or whatever pompous shit he’d written. Besides, it wasn’t exactly like I was rolling in cash. James’ offer would be enough to set me up comfortably for the next few months, and pay for all the repairsCarpe Diemdesperately needed. Most other captains would’ve docked their boats until they could get the repairs done, but I trusted my girl not to let me down. She was sturdy and strong, and wouldn’t give out just yet.

Landing hard in the chair next to her various controls, I threw my head back, scrubbing my hands over my eyes.

If I was wrong, and James hadn’t been bluffing, he’d be in there right now, telling Camp and Scarlett all the dirty secrets I’d spent years in the rainforest trying to bury. At the end of the day, Camp was going to believe what he wanted to believe. But Scarlett…I wasn’t sure I could handle her looking at me differently.

“Gulliable Nash, whywouldn’the believe me when I fed him lines about being friends? Stupid Nash, of course he’d think I was telling the truth when I said I trusted him. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.” I groaned, tipping dangerously far back in my old chair.

“Sorry, am I interrupting something?”

My eyes flung open to Scarlett’s voice, at the exact moment I lost my balance in the chair, tipping too far backward, and landing with a solid thunk onto the floor.

“Oh my God, are you okay?” Scarlett rushed over, offering me her arm to help me up.

“I’m fine, darling, nothing more than a bruised ego.” And possibly a bruised tailbone, but that was beside the point. I rubbed my lower back, pulling my chair upright. “You’re missing dinner.”

She shrugged, offering me a small smile. “It felt wrong to enjoy delicious food without the chef in question.”

Did he tell her? Was she just being nice now because she felt bad?“I’m sorry about that. James and my relationship is…strained.”

“That’s definitely one word for it.” Scarlett laughed. “I didn’t realize you knew each other when he first came onboard. You seemed distant. Not like people who have known each other for years.”

Years. How did she know? Did he tell her?“Yeah, well, a lot of years have passed since we were close, and a lot of life has been lived since then.”Ifwe were ever close. I was beginning to have my doubts.

Scarlett was quiet, watching me with the soft examining eyes she regarded the world with. Even when she wasn’t talking, she was processing, putting puzzle pieces into place. Some of her books had fallen out when I was taking them to the storage room, books about understanding humans, and how we interacted with each other. I wondered what she thought about me. What sheknew.

I wanted to ask. But how did you ask?Hey, did my ex-friend tell you my darkest secret I’ve spent the last decade running away from, or are we still cool?No way that question was normal.

Luckily for me, Scarlett was a mind reader. Or just well-read. “He didn’t tell us anything, if you’re worried. All he said to us was that ‘Carpe Diemwas nothing like you’re thinking,’ and then poured himself a glass of wine and started to eat. I came to check on you instead of sticking around.” She rolled her eyes with a smile. “I’m not sure if that tidbit of information was useful or not. It’s pretty easy to tell that nothing about this trip is anything like I thought it was going to be.”

“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”

Hopefully, she wasn’t already over the drama and ready to leave. I wasn’t sure how to explain the usual trip down-river normally wasn’t anywhere as exciting as this. Usually, Humphrey was the highlight, maybe a howler monkey or two, until at least day three or four, when we got deeper into the rainforest, and civilization was farther behind us. But between guests? Or myself? Never too exciting.

She walked over with an easy confidence, sitting on the table across from me. “Jury is still out. Ask me again in 24 to 48 hours.”

“I’ll make a note of it in my calendar.” I leaned back in the chair once more, careful to not lean back so far that Scarlett would need to rescue me again. I was a feminist where it counted most, but I was still a firm believer that I should be the one helping her out, and not the other way around.

“Youhave a calendar?” Her feet dangled from where she sat on the table, her legs swinging slowly, giving her a completely carefree air.

I grinned. “No. And even if I did, I’d never stick to it. But I’ll tell you what. I’m going to be an optimist and assume your answer will be good, and if it’s not, you’ll have to come correct me. Okay?”

“Okay.” Scarlett’s laugh was quiet, but real, and I found myself wanting more of it. I wanted to know more abouther. I wanted to know why she was on my boat, but I didn’t want to pry, especially because she hadn’t pried about me and James.

But I could offer, couldn’t I?

“Did you…” I hesitated, the words sour on my tongue, burning a hole the longer I left them to linger. “Did you want to know what James really meant?”

Scarlett’s eyes widened, and even in the dull overhead light of the wheelhouse I could see the curiosity taking over.

If I were James, I would file that information away for later, scribbling it down in my diary—Scarlett’s weakness is her curiosity. She’ll let it get the better of her eventually—but I wasn’t James, and I had no intention of manipulating the beautiful soul in front of me. I simply wanted to offer myself to her, and see if I could find out more about her in return.

I waited for the yes to leave her mouth. Instead, she screwed up her face and shook her head. “No. I mean, yes, of course I do, but I’m also aware of how uncomfortable you are. You’ll tell me when you’re ready. I won’t ask for it before then.”

Scarlett’s words hung between us in the humid night air, the underlying meaning clear. I’d tell her when I was ready meant there was already something between us.

Something tangible.

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