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Thirty-Two

Huck

I want to stay with Stella in the dark, beneath this gorgeous expanse of stars all night.

Fuck it. I want to stay right here with her forever.

I know it can’t happen, but my hand still fits in the curve of her back like it was made to go there, a lock and key, exactly like last year.

It is taking every ounce of freaking control I have not to pull her in and make her mouth mine, make her mine, and let her brand me as hers with her lips.

The universe brought us together once, but now it seems to have other plans.

That zephyr from a few minutes earlier is quickly becoming something more akin to a gale, and the gentle rocking motion of the ship turns chaotic.

Sea sprays into our faces and my scopolamine patch waves a white flag and now my self-control shifts from Stella purely to the prevention of me hurling the contents of my stomach over the railing.

“This doesn’t seem normal,” I call over the wind.

She squints as rain comes at us sideways. “It’s just a little squall.”

She and I seem to have very different definitions of little . “Cool, cool, cool,” I mutter, eyeing the door to below deck, which is farther away than I remember.

“You look like you are about to freak out. Are you working up to a scuba moment?” Stella asks.

“Kinda, yeah.” I don’t even have the energy to lie.

My stomach is a tornado and the railing I’m death-gripping is getting wet and slippery and the boat is thrashing.

Stella is calm, of course; she’s a badass.

She slicks her hair out of her face and goes to double-check on all the gear, confirming it’s secured.

Then she starts making her way toward the door.

“Coming?” she asks.

I will not vomit in front of her. I will not. “We don’t have to stay up here? Make sure we don’t sink?”

“The bilge is on auto with a high-water alarm, and we’ve got plenty of chain on the anchor.

We’ll be fine. Let’s get out of this weather.

You’re soaked.” She extends a hand, and I grip it, and just like that, my scopolamine patch is back in freaking business.

I know we’ll be safe. Stella is in control.

We make it through the door and stand, chests heaving, hands still intertwined for a moment in the refuge of the landing. The urge to kiss her is back, and so fucking overwhelming that I have to untangle my hand from hers.

“Thanks,” I say. “I guess I’m not good in a crisis.”

“Did you think that was a crisis?” she teases. “It was just a bit of weather. It’s probably already over.”

“Now you’re just rubbing it in.”

She smooths a hand over her soaked hair and wrings out her ponytail, smiling. “Maybe a little. Fair play, in my opinion.”

It seems like maybe she’s right. The motion of the boat has slowed.

But then it pitches in a motion so sudden and violent that it catches us both off guard and flings Stella past me toward the stairs.

Without thinking, I reach out and pull her back, spinning us away from the steps and we collide against the door.

I have to catch myself with my hands so my chest doesn’t crush her, but this also manages to trap our faces close together, which I did not intend.

My heart jackhammers around in my rib cage and the air squeezes out of my lungs.

What if I hadn’t caught her? Man, my chest feels tight.

For a second I think this is just a weird physical effect that the combined stress of little squalls and Stella in a stairwell has on me, but then I look down and realize that she has the fabric of my shirt in her fist and is twisting it.

She notices it at the same time and releases her grip.

I clear my throat and take a step back.

“Not bad for someone who isn’t good in a crisis,” she admits, peering up at me.

“Nah.”

“You saved me from the steel stairs. I’m calling that slightly heroic, and this is the only time I’m going to be that generous, so take the damn compliment, Sullivan.

” She grips my shirt again, and oh shit, does she want to kiss me ?

Yeah, okay, I’m still freaking out a little and I did just embarrass myself on deck and almost toss my cookies, but now she thinks I’m a hero, and heroes kiss the girl.

Even if they completely fumbled a year ago.

As long as we both want this. God, I freaking want this…

I press myself against her and start to lean in. “Slightly heroic, eh?”

“Maybe just a smidgen.” She’s still. Her gaze drops to my mouth.

I’m a millisecond away from her lips. “I’ll take it.”

“Well, well, well,” a deep voice booms from below.

Stella peeks around my shoulder. I can’t see her expression, but I can imagine that it’s something like mine.

A mix of shock, guilt, and absolute for the love of everything holy, could you not have just waited thirty seconds…

forty-five seconds…who the hell am I kidding—twenty minutes… so we could finish this kiss, dude?

“Everything good, Gus?” she asks.

“I would ask you the same thing, but your situation is looking, ah, pretty good.” He snickers.

“No, it’s not. She’s still mad at him.” Zoe. She bellows the last part, just to make sure we both hear it. I have to give it to her, she’s masterful. This move would bring me back down to earth under different circumstances. However, Stella’s still holding on to my shirt.

And to be totally honest, the presence of Gus and Zoe judging us from below doesn’t really compete with Stella’s small hand hanging on to me.

Her expression is positively defiant. I marvel at the fact that her friends interjecting themselves into this situation doesn’t matter to her.

It certainly hasn’t really dulled my, ah, enthusiasm.

She blinks up at me and catches the parched skin of her bottom lip with her teeth in what is arguably the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.

I wonder if our kiss will taste of salt.

I’m just getting started with this mental exploration when she releases my shirt and ducks under my arm in one swift motion.

She pauses at the top of the stairs. “Probably time for bed,” she tells me, and then jogs down as if nothing ever happened.

“What the hell was that?” Zoe says.

Maybe she doesn’t realize the way her voice carries in the hollow stairwell and her previous announcement was only incredulity and not gamesmanship.

“Just a little squall,” Stella answers.

“Squall my ass.”