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I still sense the Bargainer behind me, but I might as well be alone right now. I wade into the water, wincing just slightly at the frigid temperature.

The sound, the smell, the feel of the ocean all steady my pulse.

I am home.

Clothes and all, I dive into the sea. I surface only to dive back under again. Down here in the sea’s watery depths, there’s a quiet peace. Second by second I feel my worries and insecurities wash away. There’s just me, the night, and the ocean.

The next time I surface, I look to the beach. Des watches me from shore, several strands of his white hair whipping about his cheeks. The expression on his face is so familiar; I’ve seen it on mine a thousand times. An outsider’s expression.

I swim to shore, dragging myself out of the ocean. He steps forward, probably thinking I’m ready to go back. Instead, I grab his hand, tugging him back towards the frigid water.

Des stares at me, looking bewitched, as I drag him into the waves. And he doesn’t resist. That’s the oddest part of all.

The ocean has always been the place where sirens kill men.

“Callie, what are you doing?” He finally says when the water rises above his waist.

Isn’t it obvious? “Making you join me.”

We move out far enough that our toes no longer touch the seafloor. Des dips his head underwater and slicks his hair back.

We tread water like that for almost a minute, neither of us saying anything. I drift to my back and stare up at the dim stars. His world is above us, and mine is below. There’s something very satisfying about that.

“You know,” I say, “I missed you. Every day.” It was an ache that lasted seven years. It should’ve dulled, but it never did.

He’s quiet for a long time. Finally, he confesses, “I missed you too.”

It’s not untillate that evening that, soaked to our bones, we make it back inside. The Bargainer leads me to my room, and when I see the giant four poster bed waiting for me, I belly flop onto it, quickly ruining the sheets with sand and ocean water.

“You continually disprove the theory that sirens are graceful creatures,” Des says from behind me.

I bury my face in the sheets. “I have no clothes.”

“I have a pretty loose no-clothes policy,” he replies.

“Des.” My voice is muffled by the sheets.

He gives a rumbly laugh, then comes over, dropping a large fadedKissT-shirt and a pair of boxer briefs next to me. “This is the best I got at the moment.”

I stare at the clothing items.

He places a hand on my back, and every single cell is aware of that touch.

He leans in close to my ear. “Shower quickly enough, and I might just tuck you into bed.” He punctuates the thought by nipping my ear.

I give him an annoyed look, but it’s no use; my skin’s glowing like it used to when I was a teenager and my hormones ran wild.

“Only if you take away a bead.”

“Callie, Callie, Callie,” hetsks, “I thought we were beyond paying for each other’s company.”

I grimace, remembering all those days I bought his presence, using him to drive away my loneliness.

“Try to stay out of the bathroom this time,” I say, sliding off the bed and heading over to the bathroom in question.

“Try not to think about me,” he says.

I flip him the bird over my shoulder.