Page 19 of Cruising with You

She nods, then rocks back on her heels. “Yup. Just peachy. Are you guys ready to go?”

“Yeah. They’re going to start boarding any second to take us to the island.”

And sure enough, the line finally starts to move as the passengers board the ferry. The seating is a little sporadic by the time we make it onto the boat, but I catch a pair of seats on the second level. Entwining our fingers for Gem’s benefit––or at least that’s what I tell myself––I tug Nora over to them.

“We’ll meet you on the island,” I call over my shoulder. “Grab a seat where you can.”

The rocking from the ferry makes the short trip to our seats an eventful one. Losing her balance, Nora practically barrels into my chest, but I catch her in the knick of time.

“Whoa there. You okay?”

She tries to stand before collapsing against me. “Ouch. I think I twisted my ankle.”

Concerned, I attempt to get a closer look at her foot, but the boat starts to move, so I pick her up and cradle her to my chest before sitting down in our seats.

“Let me see.”

As I inspect her injury and softly graze my thumb along her ankle, she winces.

“Shit. Sorry. How does it feel?”

Her eyes gather with tears before a soft laugh escapes her. “I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine,” I argue. “Nora, you’re crying.”

Another pathetic laugh that sounds more like a whimper than anything else slips past my defenses. “Seriously, I’m fine. Welcome to fake dating a Cancer. We cry. A lot. But it’s not from the pain this time.”

“Then, what would it be from?” I challenge, not the least bit convinced.

“Embarrassment?” she offers before burying her tear-streaked face in her hands. “So much embarrassment that it’s not even funny.”

“Why are you embarrassed?”

“Because I just tripped in front of everyone on this boat. Including you, I might add.”

“And that’s embarrassing because…?” I let my voice trail off before grabbing her hands and pulling them away from her face.

“I don’t know! Don’t ask me to be logical right now. I’m more of a go-by-your-feelings type of girl.”

“And what are your feelings telling you?”

“That I just looked really stupid in front of a hot guy who then decided to be all macho by carrying me to my seat like a superhero?” Her cheeks turn even redder.

Unable to help myself, I laugh. Hard.

“Stop laughing at me!” She smacks my pec, but it only encourages me.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. It’s just….” Another laugh rumbles through me.

“What?” she pouts, offended by my boisterous laughter that she thinks is at her expense. If only she knew how adorable she is.

Sobering slightly, I explain, “I don’t know what the astrology experts are smoking. That’s all.”

“What do you mean?”

“You told me that a Leo and a Cancer can’t work because of communication issues, but you’ve also said that a Leo likes to have their ego stroked, which you just did perfectly, by the way. Personally, I think they’re full of shit ‘cause if I could have my soulmate look at me like I’m a superhero”––I puff out my chest––“then I’d be a pretty happy sonofabitch for the rest of my life. Just sayin’.”

“Aaand there’s the ego,” she teases, her tears drying. “But I can definitely see the appeal. It would be nice to have someone look at you like you hung the moon, ya know?”

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