Page 14 of Adonis (Salt and Starlight #1)

A small wave lapped onto the back of the paddle board, and he propped himself onto his elbow to take in their new positioning. The water was no longer dead calm. The merman’s tail swaying in the water held the board perpendicular to the shoreline, letting the newly formed smaller waves wash past with the least amount of disturbance.

Connor checked his watch for the time and was surprised to find it was already past lunch. He looked down at the merman, who gazed steadily up at him. “You’re very distracting, you know,”

he said. He’d done little more than stare at the merman for the past few hours, talking and examining him at leisure.

He sat up fully and scooted to his cooler, digging out the wrap Laurence had insisted on making him before going to school.

Connor took a bite, though noticed a keen gaze fixed on his mouth. “Do you want some?”

he asked, offering half of the wrap.

The merman’s eyes widened. He moved in a rush, making splashes as his tail disappeared under the water and he set his forearms on the paddleboard, which dipped under his weight. Connor eyed just how far, trying to remember how many people he’d had on the board in the past to get the same result. At the very least, his merman weighed more than half a dozen people combined.

The merman’s expression filled with excitement, his gaze ping ponging between Connor and the wrap.

Connor hadn’t expected him to be that excited about it… he made a mental note to bring a full one for the merman tomorrow if he liked it. Meanwhile, he grinned at the merman’s expressive face.

“Here.”

Connor pressed the wrap to the merman’s hand when he didn’t reach for it. “I’m giving it to you. To eat.”

He took a bite of his own half to show the merman.

The merman seized both the wrap and Connor’s hand, trapping them together. Connor cried out in surprise as the merman dragged it to his mouth and took a large bite. It was a salad-filled wrap with a mayo dressing, which didn’t seem to bother the merman. He quickly took another bite. And another. Connor eyed the flash of sharp canines nearing his fingers, but the merman was careful not to catch his flesh between his teeth, licking the last remnants between Connor’s fingers. Goosebumps broke out over Connor’s skin.

Done eating, the merman gazed up at Connor making that keening sound; however, this time, it was deeper in delight. Connor gripped his half of the wrap, wanting to offer it, to watch the merman eat from his hand… he released a long breath to regain his senses. As entertaining as that was, he couldn’t spend an hour paddling home on an empty stomach.

“You don’t have a name, do you?”

Connor asked him. “I’d like something to call you. I’m Connor, by the way.”

The merman watched him intently, obviously listening, but not replying.

“You won’t be angry if I give you one, will you?”

Connor asked. “I’ll call you something good.”

The merman made his usual keening sound in response.

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

Connor wouldn’t dare nickname him something silly; that noble mouth and those dark eyes were far too alert and alive for that. A part of Connor thought that if he called him something derisive, like Flipper or Free Willy, the merman would know he was being mocked. He obviously had emotions and humour given that purposeful snort earlier, so he likely had the flip side of those emotions, too.

“What about Adonis?”

Connor asked after studying his face for a long time. “He was very beautiful, too. It’s a unique name, and you are certainly unique… I think it suits you.”

The merman made a fond keening sound.

“I’ll take that as a yes, too.”

Connor smiled. “Nice to meet you, Adonis.”

Connor lingered on the water for as long as he could. But he knew his time was up as the waves got bigger and clouds formed on the horizon-line. He had to go or he’d get caught out in harder weather and get stuck trying to paddle in after dark. He’d done that a few times during the summers, and having only the torch to guide him home had been a nerve-wracking experience that he wasn’t eager to repeat. He’d imagined giant squid beneath his board the entire way home but despite his fears, he always found his way back without issue.

Connor stood and pulled his oar free.

Adonis retreated a few meters, a question in his eyes.

“Time for home,”

Connor explained. He set off and was more than pleased when Adonis joined him. They travelled through the waters at a comfortable pace, and Connor discovered just how much his fitness had waned during the school year. All the soccer in the world didn’t compare to an hour on the water, and after the exertion from this morning, Connor was wiped.

Halfway home, he stopped and lowered to his knees, breathing hard. His lungs burned so badly he could taste blood. He laughed breathlessly at himself. By the end of summer, he’d be able to climb mountains without breaking a sweat. He always forgot how hard it was at the start.

Adonis drifted to his side and peered up at him questioningly. His breaths were regular; he certainly wasn’t tired from the short swim this far.

“I just need a minute,”

Connor said, breathing hard. He twisted around, grabbed his water bottle from the cooler, and downed almost the whole thing.

The waves lapping at the board should have pushed Connor further from his goal, but Adonis grasped the board and held it for him.

“Okay,”

Connor said, climbing to his feet. “Ready.”

Adonis didn’t stray as far this time. He stayed close to Connor’s side and kept looking at him. His observation was a tell of what was to come because Connor collapsed to his knees after five minutes, panting as his muscles gave in to weakness. Adonis darted in, catching the board before the waves stole any of Connor’s progress.

“This is your fault, you know,”

Connor said as he caught his breath, chuckling at the state of himself. “I could have left earlier if not for you. Taken it slow.”

Adonis looked at the oar in Connor’s hand, his hooded eyes narrowed. He sprang. His arm was a blur, and the oar was yanked from Connor’s hand faster than he could react. Adonis went underwater with the oar.

“Hey!”

Connor cried out, heart leaping into his throat. “Adonis, give that back!”

Adonis’s dark form circled the board. He eventually surfaced behind, his dark gaze on Connor.

Trepidation crept over Connor. Maybe Adonis had realised Connor was going to leave him and he didn’t want that? Or maybe Connor shouldn’t have gone swimming with a creature he couldn’t hope to understand without thinking about his own safety. Curse it.

Adonis inched closer until he reached the end of the board. The oar was still in his hand; Connor saw its distorted shape under the water.

“I need that back,”

Connor said, his voice coming out calmer than he felt.

Adonis lifted his hand to the back of the board, and he pushed. Connor’s centre of balance jerked to the side; he barely caught himself from falling into the ocean. Adonis waited until Connor gripped the sides of the board before he pushed again. Within a few seconds, they were gliding through the water faster than Connor had been able to row on the journey out when he’d been full of energy.

Connor swallowed.

Keeping a good hold and widening his knees to keep centre of gravity low, he held out his hand. “Can I have the oar?”

Adonis glanced at him.

“The oar.”

Connor pointed to where Adonis held it in his other hand. He had a spare in case he lost his in an emergency, but he didn’t dare take it out in case Adonis snatched that one from him, too. He was not so far from the shore that he couldn’t swim in, but that would leave him at the mercy of Adonis.

Adonis seemed to realise what he wanted. His top lip curled back, and he hissed.

Connor held his nerve. There was no going back either way. “Adonis, give it back.”

Adonis hissed again.

“Give it back.”

The hiss faded.

“The oar, Adonis.”

Adonis glared at him. They slowed, coming to a stop, and Adonis angrily slapped the oar onto the board. Connor only just gripped it before Adonis set both hands onto the back of the paddleboard and they surged forwards.

Connor breathed out in relief.

With Adonis functioning as an engine, what had taken Connor close to twenty-five minutes to travel was accomplished in ten. His house came into view.

“Adonis, stop,”

Connor called. He stretched out, tapping Adonis’s hands so he didn’t powerboat them right past his destination. “I’m going here.”

Connor pointed to the dock.

Adonis looked first, then easily turned the board in that direction. He brought them in slowly, stopping when they were a few feet out from the shoreline. Adonis swam to Connor’s side, glancing between him and the beach.

Connor was only a few feet away from the dock but was reluctant to close the distance. “I’ll come out again tomorrow,”

he promised. He still didn’t know if Adonis understood exactly what he was saying, but he’d seen enough to know that he had a general grasp of what Connor was trying to communicate, at least. He’d given him the oar back, after all.

Connor took it out now and Adonis tensed. His eyes flashed dangerously. This time, Connor lifted the oar up, out of Adonis’s reach, just as he lunged for it. Adonis’s hand grasped empty air, and he caught the edge of the paddleboard with a frustrated hiss, eyes fixed on the oar.

“Stop it,”

Connor said.

Adonis sank back, leaving only his eyes above the water. He swam to the back of the board and grabbed it. He shook the board, making Connor yelp and wobble, and then Adonis gestured between himself and the spot where he held the board. Adonis ended the display with a lip-curling sneer at the oar.

“Was I struggling so much that you think it’s an enemy?”

Connor asked, finding that he couldn’t stop his smile. “Look, I’m just going to the dock. Don’t grab it out of my hands, okay?”

Connor gave Adonis his best, don’t you dare, look before dipping the oar into the water and guiding the paddleboard to the dock.

Adonis followed with his hands on the back of the board the whole time, and when Connor peeked at him, his eyes were fixed on the oar in a murderous glare.

Connor grinned. Once the dock was within reach, he paused. “You’ll have to let go,”

he said. He twisted around and sank his feet into the water as he sat backwards on the board. “It’s too shallow for you past here.”

Adonis didn’t let go of the board.

Connor slowly rowed in, and it wasn’t until he was halfway down the length of the dock that Adonis’s expression changed. He looked down into the water and made an unhappy noise in his throat. He tensed, and Connor worried that he was about to be pulled into deeper waters. Instead of dragging him out as Connor feared, Adonis let go of the board. Staying in place as Connor continued to shore.

Adonis watched him mournfully from the water and made a keening noise in his throat.

Connor had spent only one afternoon with him, but Adonis’s heartbreak at being left behind made his own heart squeeze painfully. As soon as he was on the beach, he pulled the board onto the sand and trotted down the dock. “I’m not gone, okay? Don’t make that sound. I’m going to feel too guilty to leave you if you do.”

Adonis’s expression brightened.

Connor walked to the very end of the dock so that Adonis could wade out into the deeper water. He dug his hands into the front pocket of his hoodie and waited as Adonis came to him.

One look at his face and Connor’s will crumbled to dust. “I’ll hang out with you for a little bit longer. Okay?”

He sat on the dock and crisscrossed his legs. He would have dipped them into the water if he wasn’t so cold. The light was fading from the sky, and with the sun disappearing, the warmth was going with it.

Adonis abruptly disappeared underwater. His dark form darted out to sea and vanished into the dark of the ocean. Connor frowned, surprised at his sudden departure.

“Connor?”

Trevor called.

Connor sighed. Right. He twisted around, seeing Trevor halfway down the sandy path leading to the house and approaching fast. Trevor glanced at the paddleboard as he passed it and walked down the dock to Connor.

“You got some sun today,”

Trevor noted, stopping next to Connor.

“It’s just windburn.”

Connor stood up, casting one last look at the ocean before accepting that Adonis had gone. He hoped it wouldn’t be like the lab where he’d been permanently spooked away.

“Here, I’ll help you lift that up.”

Trevor nodded to the board.

Connor was glad for the assistance. Trevor was big and strong, and despite Adonis shouldering the journey back, Connor’s shoulder muscles burned as he put them under strain. Trevor picked up the cooler under one arm while Connor gathered the last of his loose things.

They walked up the sandy path to the back door.

“Did you go out far?”

Trevor asked casually.

Connor cast him a sideways look. His mom was an uncaring individual, but Trevor wasn’t. And given the protective edge he’d seen in his approach to Laurence, he knew, just as he knew the sky was blue and grass was green, that he was about to be on the receiving end of such worry.

“Just the usual,”

Connor answered as casually as Trevor.

Trevor’s dark eyes cut toward Connor, and his expression filled with resignation as he sighed. “You know, ten times out of ten, Laurence and Nick both fall for that? You already know what I’m about to say, don’t you? And you’ve already decided whether you’ll listen to it. And the answer is you won’t.”

“Well, since we got that talk out of the way so quickly, I’ll just…”

Connor grinned at Trevor’s world-weary sigh.

“I grew up on the water and I can swim better than the national swim team,”

Connor said. “I listen to the weather reports before I go out. I take note of the currents. I’m never out there without a way to call for help. And yes, you’re right. I’m not going to listen to you telling me not to go out alone.”

“Your phone is charging next to your bed,”

Trevor pointed out. They stopped by the back door, where Trevor set the cooler on the wooden porch. He placed his hands on his sides.

Connor let out an amused breath. “I don’t bring my smartphone, obviously.”

“Obviously,”

Trevor repeated.

“I have a satellite phone.”

Connor dug into his waterproof backpack and took out the block phone wrapped in plastic, showing it to Trevor. “You can track the GPS signal on this even if it ends up on the bottom of the ocean, and I’ll get coverage no matter where I go.”

He looked at the aged, chunky device. “First phone I ever had. Dad’s pretty good at giving presents despite his head being in the clouds most of the time.”

“May I?”

Trevor held out his hand, and Connor gave him the phone to examine. “Have you checked the batteries recently?”

“The green light flashes orange when it’s low,”

Connor replied.

Trevor was still unsatisfied. “You know most car accidents that happen are experienced drivers on their route home?”

“And most drownings are experienced swimmers,”

Connor said, knowing where this was going. “People get comfortable and endanger themselves in ways beginners don’t.”

“Would you consider not going out alone?”

“No,”

Connor replied promptly. It would have been “no”

even if he hadn’t run into Adonis today. Getting out on the water was the only thing that made this place bearable. The only thing that gave him the strength to get through everything that happened on dry land.

Trevor sighed. “You need to tell me, at least.”

He handed back the phone. “So that someone knows where you are.”

“I can do that,”

Connor said.

“Ideally, you would bring someone with you…”

Trevor looked at Connor hopefully, but that hope disappeared when he saw Connor’s expression. He’d schooled his face into a “no”—a trick he’d learned from his dad. “I’ll settle for you telling me, then. I’ll just be very anxious the entire time and won’t be able to focus at work. I might even develop stress ulcers…”

Connor snorted. Did such an obvious stab at emotional manipulation work on Laurence and Nick? He bet it did. He bet Trevor exaggerated the obviousness because if he’d tried in earnest to guilt Connor, it would backfire. “I can live with that.”

Trevor laughed. “Of course you can.”

Connor grinned.