I watch the moment his eyelids open. I dart my gaze away like I wasn’t watching him sleep, which, okay, technically I was. But only because I was surprised to see him.
“You were on the other side of the beach,” I say.
He stiffens, and when I look back at him, his features have twisted and hardened.
I look toward the ocean. Something is different. “Good morning.”
Jason pushes himself up. “Still in paradise.”
“Yup.” I nod at the crystal blue ocean. I scramble for my sunglasses and put them on.
I groan and massage my shoulder. “Fuck.”
Jason eyes me. “I’m still not giving you a massage, Prescott.”
“I still didn’t ask for one!”
Jason’s lips curve into a grin, and he turns his attention to the water.
Right. I probably should have been looking there too.
“Any boats?” I ask.
He exhales. “No. We’re probably off the major routes.”
“Huh.” I stare at the waves.
The place is ridiculously beautiful, like any advertisement for a tropical honeymoon ever.
Jason stands, slower than yesterday. His movements are stiff, and he winces.
“You still haven’t told me why you came over.”
He hesitates. “I heard a scream. I wanted to check you were okay.”
I blink. “Oh. That’s... nice.”
He rolls his eyes. “I was trying to make sure you weren’t getting murdered by a crab.”
He stalks off, and I can’t help watching him go... until I remember watching Jason is still on the Don’t List.
I follow Jason to the coconuts. “You said an animal screamed?”
“Maybe you had a nightmare.”
I bristle. “I wouldn’t—” I stop. Because maybe Iwould. Maybe I did.
“You looked calm,” he says softly. “When I checked.”
I nod, jaw tight. I don’t like the thought of my unconscious self being anything less than composed. I hate that it might have betrayed something I don’t remember.
“Could’ve been an owl,” Jason offers.
The ocean stretches in front of me—vast, endless, and empty.
But something’s wrong.
And then it hits me: our jet ski is missing.
