Page 61 of Second Tide's the Charm
The boy nods. “A whale shark. They’re filter feeders.”
“My man.” Adrian’s smile is huge, and he offers the kid knuckles. They fist bump, then the boy runs off to an elderly man who admonishes him with a gravelly, “Slow down, Cameron.” He smiles at us over his shoulder. “Appreciate you taking the time. He’s been looking forward to this all week. Storm couldn’t keep us away, but I hear there’s worse on the way. Y’all stay safe,” he says, nodding to me.
When the last of the stragglers clear out, Adrian strides over to me and wraps me in a hug, surprising me. “I’m sorry for earlier,” he says against my ear. Warmth shuffles through my body, a zing of heat from my hair follicles to the soles of my feet, so deep it sinks into my soul as well.
Until I squeezed his thigh on the boat—another embarrassing memory from today I never want to revisit—we hadn’t touched since the night at the restaurant, and this hug is like falling onto a mattress after a long day on my feet, the sting of our argument fading with the comfort of his embrace.
All too soon, he releases me, and much as I miss his touch, I can’t help but admire the sight of him all dressed up, skin glowing rich brown under the warm lights, hair pulled back, showing off the angles of his handsome face. “What happened today was my fault,” he says. “I was so worried about going live, but I let Gabe convince me. And then, well...”
“It was pretty much your worst fear, me spilling the beans about my idea.”
“Yours too,” he says. “I let you get put in a bad position, and I’m sorry.”
“You said that already.” It’s counterintuitive to make up without touching him, but I do my best. “And I am too. I got defensive, but I know I let you down.”
“You didn’t.” He shakes his head. “We’ll find a way to work. I was just...”
“Scared?” I raise my brows, and he nods. “Me too.”
“I still should’ve handled it better,” he says. “I do appreciate you making the suggestion. I just needed time to think on it. Roll things around in my mind. Consider the outcome.” His lips quirk. “How do I put this? Changes to the status quo make me anxious. It might be the best idea in the world, but if it’s new, I need some time to mull it over, or all I see are worst-case scenarios.”
I knew this about him. Heck, his response to my decision to leave was proof. But he’d never communicated it so clearly, or maybe I wasn’t in a position to listen. “Probably better than jumping into things without considering what might go wrong.”
“Leaping before you look isn’t necessarily a bad thing,” he says. “You innovate, and you’re not scared to try new things. You’ve become a big asset to the team.”
The team. It’s a reminder that despite the hug, despite the feelings stirred up by his apology, we’re colleagues, and after this summer, won’t be anything at all to one another. Not unless I can find a way to be his friend.
“Was it weird that I showed up here?” I’m self-conscious now that we’ve gotten the apologies out of the way. “Marissa brought me, but I didn’t mean to intrude.”
“If it helps any,” he says, “Gabe came along last time, so we’re solidly in co-worker territory.” Earlier today, it would’ve been music to my ears to hear we’re staying within the lines. But my feelings have shifted, and I’m not content to leave him behind at the end of the summer.
“I gotta admit that once Marissa told me you were doing a children’s story time, it would’ve been impossible not to come see for myself.” I let my smile show, not bothering to dim it. “You had those kids hanging on every word. I’ve read to Zuri’s kids enough to know that’s no easy feat. Half the time they’re asking questions or bouncing on the couch or doing handstands.” I pause. “Though maybe that’s Zuri’s genes as much as their age. Hard to say.”
He laughs. “I think having something to hold helps them concentrate.”
“Yeah, about that—you gave them those plushies?”
He shrugs. “It’s one way I use funds fromShark Science Crew. I remember begging my parents for stuff like that when we visited aquariums and museums, and they always turned me down.” I heard the same refrain from families at the aquarium where I worked. “Which I get, now. Serious sticker shock at gift shops. But I thought it might be a cool thing to offer at programs like this.”
“Cool?” I grin. “You’re basically a sharky Santa.” I expect him to groan at the alliteration, but his face lights up, and suddenly I’m pulling out my phone, scrolling through my pictures. “Remember this?” I step up next to him, angling the phone his way, trying not to notice the cedar scent of his cologne.
He lets out a laugh at seeing the snapshot of himself in a Santa hat, sporting the shark tie with his T-shirt and plaid pajama pants. “You still have that photo?”
“I’m definitely keeping it now.” I click off the screen and tuck my phone away. “You’re a celebrity. I have to have something to say, ‘I knew him when...’”
“Surely you can do better than that.” He pulls out his own phone and taps, though not long, before holding it out. It’s us at the beach in my hometown. He’s shirtless and I’ve got my arms around his waist, cheek pressed to his bare chest. “Show-off.”
“That’s from before I ever touched a weight. Nothing to show off.”
“Not from where I’m standing.” My eyes linger on the photo for another appreciative moment before I realize what I’ve just confessed. Mortified, I wonder when I’ll stop slipping up like this, letting on how I feel. “I’d better text Marissa. She was running some errands and told me to let her know when I was ready for a ride.”
“No need,” he says. “I’ve just got some holds to pick up, then I can take you back. Unless you’d rather wait for her?”
Cheeks still burning, I can’t bring myself to meet his eyes. “That would be great, thanks.”
We reach the front desk and are greeted by the same cheerful librarian. A stack of hardcover novels sits next to the computer. “I went ahead and pulled your holds from the back room.” She beams at Adrian, open adoration he deflects with a lopsided smile.
“Thanks, Lucinda.” He slides a library card out of his wallet. “How are Duchess and Gracie?”
