Page 8 of Wild Life

“What? They get to keep everyone up with their drama and I can’t comment on it?”

“Lay off, Malcom,” I grumbled. “I’m not in the mood.” My head was pounding, and I needed to get my shit together before we made landfall to set up nests to tag bats.

“Never mind him, he’s just jealous he’s not hooking up with anyone.” Fran waved our boss away.

Ever since the breakup with Sibley years ago, Malcom had become the eternal bachelor, and it was no wonder why. His loose tongue scared off any woman who paid him attention.

“If that’s what a relationship sounds like these days, then count me out of it.” Malcom pushed his cereal bowl out of the way.

Fran shook her head and directed her attention to me. “I’m here if you want to share.”

“Thanks.” I offered her a weak smile.

Where would I even begin? How could I explain that I needed Eli in my bed so I could sleep properly, except now that he wanted to be exclusive and labelus, I was damn near ready to jump out of my skin to get away from him? It would make no sense, no matter how hard Fran tried to understand it. It barely made any sense to me.

No.Deflection was the only sane option. “Do we think we’re really going to make it out into the field today?” The floor heaved, jerking me forward so my sternum met the edge of the table.

“It had started raining before I came down here,” Fran said.

“I spoke to the captain, and he said that we’ve moved into a system. We’re close enough to shore that he should be able to drop us off and then we can find shelter on land to ride it out. Unfortunately, we may have to push our start out by a day or two, depending on how long the storm lingers.”

I groaned. I was too excited to commence research, but I understood the potential change of plans. The shitty weather would certainly disrupt the ecosystem for a few days, throwing the bats off their usual routine.

“Morning.” Eli’s sunken voice cut through the room, raising the hairs on the back of my neck.Time to face the music.

Fran and Malcom swiveled their heads in his direction, each offering a jumbled “Good morning” in response.

He looked terrible, just like me. Eyes bloodshot and hair disheveled. His gaze didn’t quite meet mine. The awkwardness was like static electricity—painful and inescapable. We still had two more weeks left on this trip, and it wouldn’t be fair to our colleagues to drag this energy with us off the boat. The right thing to do would be to explain my lunacy and move past this as best we could. It was my fault that this had escalated the way it did.

So, I decided to be an adult and approached him first. “Hey.”

“Hey,” he replied nervously.

“Can we talk?”

Suddenly, my balance vanished, and I lurched into Eli. He caught me in his arms before we stumbled backward into the wall together. Fran shrieked as she flew headfirst over the table.

The floor tremored violently underneath us. My stomach roiled from the motion, threatening to heave marshmallow cereal chunks. Loud creaking, like when wood is about to snap in half, echoed through my ears.

Dishes smashed onto the floor. Malcom’s laptop went flying across the room. Our bodies moved as if without gravitational center, rolling and knocking into each other haphazardly.

Shouting blared from above. Malcom charged through the mess, planting his palms on the walls for stability. Eli was hot on his heels.

“Eli!” I cried. But he never turned around.

Fuck.

I gaped at Fran, seeking any justification to follow the guys—a nod, a thumbs up, or maybe an “I’ll come, too,” but she just stared back with wide eyes, begging me to stay.

I couldn’t sit still when it sounded like Armageddon up there. What if something happened to Malcom or Eli?

“Wait!” I called out, running after the men.

“Maris, no!” Fran shouted after me.

I took two steps at a time, the rough wooden edges scraping my bare feet. I pushed the hatch door and climbed up onto the deck.

Water pelted my face, and the wind tossed my body to the side like an empty plastic bag.

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