Page 40 of Unmoored

“Okay, okay. All aboard the HMCS Serious.”

It’s hard to be melodramatic when Murph’s doing this big, calm thing. “Anyway,” I huff at him. “I’m just saying… there are a million newer, shinier boats. Why this one?”

Murph runs his hand slowly up my shoulder blades, across my neck, and tangles his fingers in the hair at the back of my head. “Exactly what I keep saying,” he murmurs. “Why’d you choose this old rust bucket?”

I groan and elbow him, but this time, Murph doesn’t break into a grin. He just gazes at me through the darkness, letting his touch tell me that he’s being serious.

“Did you really, truly have no other options?” Murph adds. “Or was your heart telling you which way to go?”

“Uh,” I stutter, slowly shaking my head. “I—I, uh—I mean—I can’t trust my own heart anymore, you know? I don’t know what to say all the time, and I’m used to him talking circles around me, and then I get stuck in my thoughts?—”

“Eden,” Murph says softly. “Tell me with your body. It works better that way, doesn’t it? You’ve been doing it all along.”

I blink up at him, stunned into silence. Suddenly, I’ve got a heart full of feelings and a lump in my throat that just won’t go away, however hard I swallow. It’s almost overwhelming, my urge to chatter and fill the air—even with my uncertainty, if that’s all I have?—

Wait.

My breath rushes out like I’ve been punched in the stomach.

That’s it, isn’t it? With George, I had to fill up every silence, take every opportunity I could to reassert myself, so I didn’t get swallowed up by his perfect little fantasy—my perfect nightmare.

But I’m with Murph. He lets me talk and talk, and when I look up at him, he’s always there with a calm, secret little smile for me. Like he’s promising me something, and now I think I’m starting to understand what.

“Oh,” I finally whisper. I slowly lay my head on his shoulder again, closing my eyes as he gently finger-combs my hair and scratches my scalp.

Murph just lets the silence stretch on, soft and comfortable, and I smile slowly to myself. There’s so much more space than I ever realized: to rest, to think… and, most of all, to feel.

I’m breathing in and out, slowly coming unfurled and loose and soft in Murph’s arms. At last, I breathe out a sigh, my throat tight with gratitude. “Thank you,” I whisper.

I had no idea how much I need to be loved like this. And now I don’t know what I’d do without it. But I’m not going to look for problems when I’m already good enough at finding them on the fly.

Murph grunts, shrugging off the thanks as usual. But he wraps his hand around the back of my head and presses a kiss into my hair before he rubs my neck again.

“I’m glad you were so close to a safe harbour, Eden. Don’t beat yourself up about it. You’ve been out in the storm for long enough.”

My breath rushes out. I press my face into Murph’s chest, my hands curling up under my chin as I close my eyes. And, of course, Murph hears me when I ask with my body, so I don’t even need to say it out loud.

He just holds me and holds me as our breathing falls into a rhythm, until the darkness finally steals me away.

ChapterFifteen

MURPH

My eyes flyopen to the sight of sunlight streaming through the window, in unfamiliar surroundings. I push myself to sit up before I can even think straight.

The milk run?—

No, wait. I took the morning off, which is a rare occasion. But I knew there was a good chance I wouldn’t be spending the morning at home. And here I am, twisting to glance over my shoulder at?—

Eden snorts, rolls onto his front, and burrows under the pillows. So I grin down at his back, envying the sunlight for the way it caresses his body.Idid that last night, I can’t help remembering. And it felt…

Fuck. I don’t know how to describe how it felt. It was like opening a door to a room I had no idea existed inside me, and then finding out that Eden’s already there inside of it.

I need to distract myself before I take my cue from the sun’s rays and start touching him again—because I know where that will lead.

Coffee. I’ll make us both coffee.I slowly ease my way out of bed, sorting out the clothes we tossed aside in haste last night. Once I’m finally dressed, I pad barefoot toward the kitchen.

It’s not hard to figure out which galley outlet is the working one. The fridge is plugged into the bottom socket, and Eden’s put a piece of duct tape over it as if trying to remind himself not to take it out. The top one is free, and all the other appliance cords are lying around in a tangle next to it.

---