Page 84 of What's in a Kiss?

“What are theodds Gram Parsons gets seasick?” Jake asks later that morning as he turns off PCH toward the port at Marina del Rey. I feel the sharp stab of déjà vu. Another life ago,on the morning of Masha’s bachelorette, I tried to parallel park into the same spot where Jake parks now.

I flash on my best friend’s blindfolded face, her gleeful shriek when I pulled off the bandanna and she saw that we were going fishing. God, I miss her. If Mash were here, if she didn’t hate me too, she’d tell me what to do about Lorena, about Jake. But Masha’s half a world away in Sicily—and for the good of her honeymoon, I hope I’m the furthest thing from her mind. It’s bad enough I was a stain on her wedding day.

When I realize Jake’s still waiting for an answer, I hoist Gram Parsons in my arms.

“Seasick? This sea dog?” I say, pushing painful thoughts aside. “He was here a week ago, catching halibut with me and—”

I catch myself, break into silence. Jake gives me the same concerned look he gave me when I pulled up to my mom’s old house.

“Gram Parsons will be fine,” I say.

“Fine...andafloat,” Jake says.

“What do you mean?” I ask as Jake reaches into the back seat for a small wrapped package.

“Don’t laugh,” he says. “Or do. But I’ll feel better if he wears this.” Jake opens the package to reveal a tiny life vest. Turquoise. With the handle on top that will make Gram Parsons look like a doggie briefcase. A near replica of the one I’d bought for him back home.

Tears prick my eyes, and I know it’s ridiculous to cry over animal water safety, but the gesture speaks volumes about where Jake’s heart is, and how naturally it syncs up with my own.

“Has anyone ever told you how wonderful you are?” I ask Jake as I clip Gram Parsons into his vest. A perfect fit.

I half expect Jake to make a joke, to bat the comment away, to kiss me quickly and move on, because there’s a certain amount of goodwill that this marriage seems to take for granted, because there’s a way to see this life vest as just an impulse Amazon purchase. But it’s more than that to me, and Jake seems to hear this in my voice. He meets my eyes. He reaches for my hands. He takes the time to receive the compliment. Like a man.

Emotionally available. Hot as hell.

“Thank you,” he says, and then he kisses me. His lips lock around mine and I pull him close, drawn to him on every level all at once.

“Let’s fove,” I whisper, gripping the lapels of his black jean jacket.

He laughs as a yacht horn sounds in the distance. “Let’s catch this boat. But I’m going to fove you so hard in Catalina.”

“Swear?”

As Jake rolls our suitcase across the marina parking lot, our immediate future looms into view. The yacht Aurora chartered looks like a skyscraper fell over in the water—all angled glass and brooding black. Topless waiters in tuxedo pants and bow ties glide around the multilevel decks bearing trays of cold champagne. Guests stream aboard like contestants competing for the most flamboyant hat. Across the yacht’s hull the wordsWet Dreamare painted in cursive.

I find myself staring grudgingly at the scene, holding back on instinct. It’s hard to be in public when all you want to do is have sex. And this crowd is such an obvious scene, I’m dreadingwading into it. I find myself waiting for Jake to lead the way. But he’s waiting for me. This is my High Life crowd, not his. With these people, he’s more Mr. Dusk than Mr. Glasswell.

I feel him take a breath beside me. “We’re really doing this?”

“It’ll be fine,” I say. “I mean, fun. Picture the hotel bed on the other side of that water.”

Jake closes his eyes. “I’m there right now.”

This yacht would fit Glasswell like a glove, but Jake is distinctly uneasy. I wonder what High Life Olivia knows about Jake’s insecurity that I don’t. And then I wonder if shedoesn’tknow, if I’m picking up on it because ofmyreal-life insecurity around this type of scene.

We climb the gangway and board the ship. In a lustrous white toga dress, Aurora stands at the stern. Her arms extended, she awaits my hug as Jake and Gram Parsons and I head her way.

“You bitches missed the caviar,” she says, air-kissing me.

“But we made the boat,” Jake says, less than enthusiastic. “Which is clearly the caviar of yachts.”

There’s zero chemistry between him and Aurora. She barely glances at him. In another life, they were inseparable—at least according to theDaily Mail. In any world, I’ve never seen someone look at Jake with such disinterest.

Even when I thought I despised Glasswell, I recognized it was obsessive. Maybe something inside me always knew it was a shallow form of fascination.

“You two are suchrebels,” Aurora says.

“How’s that?” Jake asks.

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