Page 19 of Beauty
“I’ve got flippers.” Eddy’s voice pulls me from my thoughts, but it’s the loss of this man’s touch that sends me teetering forward again. Shocked. Stupid.
He grips my thigh, his movement just as quick as the last, and sucks in another exaggerated breath. “Why don’t you get off the netting?”
I laugh lightly, maintaining an unbothered appearance. “Right. Thank you.”
He steps back, keeping his arm outstretched so I can use it for support as I climb onto the solid teak surface.
“Come on, Noah. Last person in is a rotten egg,” one of the men I met on the deck this morning—the rounder one, with the bald head—calls. Then he catapults himself off the side of the boat and tucks his legs, cannonball style, creating an enormous splash.
The other man shakes his head and points at the water. “Your goggles.”
“Sienna,” Eddy says, cradling my elbow. “Let me get everyone set up, and then I’ll go in with you.” He holds out the flippers he fetched for me. “Everyone must have a buddy. And don’t swim too far from the boat.”
“I’ll go with her.” Noah reaches into the bucket of goggles at Eddy’s feet and plucks a set out, shaking off another pair that’s tangled around them. He turns toward me, but instead of handing them to me like I expect, he steps close, loops the strap around his wrist and uses both hands to push my hair behind my ears.
I can’t help but stare at his lips, one of which he has caught between his teeth. He drags his hands down my jaw, his thumbs brushing over my cheeks, the blue of his irises suddenly stormy.
The warm air crackles between us, and my pulse picks up. Is he going to kiss me? And if so, what would those lips feel like? What would he taste like if he pressed his mouth to mine?
Between one heartbeat and the next, his hands are gone and he’s pulling back. He holds up the goggles, and when I nod, he fits them over my head and adjusts them on my face.
When I reach up to tighten them, he shakes his head. It’s the tiniest of movements. Then, with his tongue in his cheek, he tightens each side.
“This okay?” he asks.
I’m beginning to hate that question, because I swear every time he asks, his next move is to pull back. Despite that, the simple words light me up inside. The check-ins are as endearing as they are sexy. He’s clearly a guy who thrives on consent.
Heat swirls in my core at the thought, and my nipples pebble.
Shit.
Why the hell did I let my mind wander there?
I have to step back. I have to get away from his heady scent and that mouth. It’s too damn expressive, his thoughts written all over it rather than in his eyes. Biting down when he’s apprehensive, licking his lips when he’s turned on, the corners tipped up when he’s surprised to find himself happy.
I barely know him, and already I see so much.
And he’s made a point of putting space between us.
Clearing my throat, I give him a nod. And with a quick thanks, I take my flippers to the edge of the boat where a ladder is located.
Like any stubborn younger sister to a whole slew of boys would, I don’t wait for him or Eddy. I slip the flippers onto my feet and drop into the water. The cool temperature is as much a shock as it is refreshing, and when I surface, I can’t help but smile. I can’t remember the last time I did something like this.Joining a tour with people I don’t know. Spending the day on a boat that isn’t private.
The thought makes me stupidly giddy and defiant and free. I tip forward, kicking my feet, and put my face in the water to confirm my goggles won’t leak and that my snorkel is clear. Rather than coming right back up, I’m sidetracked by the kaleidoscope of color beneath me. Orange and deep blue fish with the prettiest black and white fins dart below me. I drift, enraptured, until I catch sight of a reef only a few feet away. With excitement coursing through me, I kick my way over to it, taking in the variety of fish and sea creatures.
The sight is incredible. The colors, the beauty, the whole world that exists beneath the surface. This is why people should snorkel in pairs, not just for safety, but because right now, I wish I could share this with someone. I’ve always hoped to one day fall in love, but I’ve never truly craved a relationship. But as I note a starfish close by, I get it. This is the kind of moment that I want to share with someone. It’s an experience to look back on.
A fish peeks out of a cavernous cave within the reef, and when my shadow passes over it, its body puffs wide. I gasp, the sound strange in my ears. I’m practically giddy at the sight.
When there’s a tap on my shoulder, I turn and find Noah’s goggled face beside mine. My instinct is to smile at the gorgeous man, but before I can end up with a mouthful of saltwater, I school the expression and give him a thumbs-up.
He grasps my hand and tugs me forward, and we spend the next twenty minutes pointing out the fish and coral we see, each prettier and more exciting than the last. As the minutes go by, I’m not sure if it’s the bright tropical fish or Noah’s firm hand in mine that makes me feel lighter than I have in a long time.
EIGHT
NOAH
A womanI barely know shouldn’t have the ability to silence every thought in my head. Her mere presence shouldn’t push me into living in the moment in a way that only hockey ever has. I don’t have the patience or capacity to sit and watch television or a movie. If I want to relax, I’m better off with a crossword puzzle challenging enough to require deep focus.
