Page 118 of Relationship Goals

There’s an opportunity here. An evil, awful one, and the Grinch would be proud.

I twist on the top step of the ladder, looking down at Luke, who’s glowering at everything, and Darren, who’s holding up really well, considering Luke is pretty fucking intimidating right now.

It would be hot if he were serious.

Maybe Luke Wolfe should win an Oscar.

“Don’t you trust me?” My voice breaks. “You don’t think I can do this? You don’t think I can swim in the tank and get my lobster?Ourlobsters?”

Wordless, he considers me. Triumph surges through me.

This is it. This is the moment he breaks up with me. Just one more push.

“Why don’t you believe in me?” I ask shrilly.

Maybe laid it on a little thick.

Darren raises one eyebrow at me. “I cannot believe that he would not believe in you, mademoiselle.”

“Goggles,” I tell him, and he pulls a set out of his inside jacket pocket.

It’s so absurd I nearly break character. But I am an actress, dammit, and I am going to do this.

“I think you can do whatever you want,” Luke finally says, sweeping a hand over his wavy black hair, clearly distressed. “I just don’t want you to get hurt.”

“It would be hard to go to your games if I were hurt,” I say blithely.

He blinks. “Well, that’s true, but I don’t care about that. It would be hard for you period if you got hurt—”

“If you don’t believe in me, just tell me,” I interrupt him, nearly throwing a hand across my forehead in true dramatic fashion.

“Abigail, if you really want to do this, then do it,” he says. “Gerard, you’d better have a towel. I don’t want her to be cold.”

“Why are you always worried about my temperature regulation,” I cry out. “My body is perfectly capable of regulating!”

“Of course it is,” Luke says slowly.

I cringe, turning back to the tank. That was a little far. I pop the goggles on, pressing them into my eyes and making sure they’re sealed.

Maybe improvisation isn’t my strong suit.

Swimming, however, is. I grin at my wavering reflection on the top of the tank, and then I step in. Fish scatter all around me, the water colder than I expected.

It’s always a shock when you first jump in, but this takes my breath away.

Shit. Maybe I spoke too soon about temperature regulation.

Something red and armored scurries across the bottom of the tank, and I grin at it, bubbles coming from my mouth as I laugh.

If Luke isn’t running for the door already at all the red flags I’m throwing at his face, the third act of our date is about to be the coup de grâce. My legs scissor kick, and I break the surface of the tank, taking a deep breath, then surge down as fast as I can, the mesh bag still in hand.

The lobster stops right where I wanted it to, and I narrowly avoid sucking in a lungful of water as I swallow my laugh.

From inside the tank, it’s clear how fake it is, but I doubt Luke can tell, especially at the angle the robot lobster stopped.

Good job, Darren/Gerard.

I kick a few times, reaching the lobster easily and tucking it inside the mesh bag. I give a thumbs-up to the wavering shapes of Luke and Darren, then swim quickly back up to the surface, my prize secured.

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