Chapter 5

5

A fter a family-friendly beginner’s trip in the afternoon, only Logan and Tom joined our sunset dive at the Champagne Reef. We arrived just as the last sliver of sun dipped below the horizon, leaving a twilight glow that slowly merged into the indigo of early night. As we slipped into the water, the surface shimmered in a myriad of colors, rippling like liquid glass.

Our dive lights illuminated a world that pulsed with life. The thermal vents of the reef exhaled streams of warm bubbles that danced in the light, surreal like swimming through a giant, fizzing beverage. Corals appeared almost alien in their vibrant textures, dotted with polyps that seemed to bloom in slow motion, reaching out with tiny, waving arms.

Logan and Tom didn’t need my help, so I’d brought my camera. I captured bubbles that sparkled like tiny stars in the underwater night sky. A curious octopus slunk from its den and paused momentarily, its eyes reflecting the light back into my camera lens for an almost surreal shot. Snaking through the crevices, a moray eel peeked at us with baleful eyes. In the beams of our lights, its skin gleamed like polished leather.

We ascended slowly and were greeted by the cool night air, the boat’s reflected light dancing on the sea. Nia waited for us with honeyed ginger tea. The spicy sweetness pooled warm in my belly, and fuck yeah, this was the life —a stunning sunset, a great dive, and a hot beverage at the end. All that was missing was a splash of rum.

When I said as much, she pinched my waist. “Do I get a thank you for letting you have this dive?”

“You’re a wonderful boss and a beautiful human being,” I told her.

“Damn right,” she said.

Tom cocked his head. “There’s rum?”

We usually hid our stash from guests, but once in a while, exceptions were made. The way Nia assessed him with a sharp look told me this might be one of those occasions. “There is,” she said. “Beer, too. But you tell anyone, we’ll make you regret the day you were born.”

“We’ll keep our mouths shut,” Logan said. “Scout’s honor.”

“Scout’s honor?” Tom’s tone turned friendly and teasing. “Please. You think a compass is a fashion accessory.”

Night tangled in Logan’s grin. “Why would I need a compass if my phone points the way?”

“You know,” Nia said, “some of us remember a time when maps didn’t talk.”

I slung an arm around her shoulders. “That’s okay, babe. You have many redeeming qualities.”

“Like the power to hand me a beer,” Tom put in. “We all know divers must stay hydrated.”

“Smooth.” Laughter was tucked into Nia’s voice. “So, beer for you. Logan, Milo—beer or a spiced rum toddy?”

“Is that like a hot toddy, but with rum?” Logan asked. “I think I saw it on the bar menu.”

Nia nodded. “It’s the Caribbean twist, yeah. Keep the honey, lime, and hot water, but replace whiskey with rum and add some spices like cinnamon and cloves.”

“Sounds delicious,” Logan said. “Sign me up. ”

“And one for me,” I said with a squeeze of Nia’s shoulder. “I’ll help.”

”Nah, it’s okay—go take a look at your pictures. I know you’re dying to see what you got.”

She was right. I had high hopes for the octopus, and there was also a shot I’d taken right as we’d gone down—the last slices of sunlight had penetrated the water in golden beams that illuminated the corals below.

“Thank you.”

“Then I’ll help,” Tom said easily. “But only if there’s one for me too.”

“Deal.” Nia set off for the wheelhouse, waving for Tom to follow, while I sat down near the back of the boat and opened the camera app on my phone. I’d expected Logan to join Tom and Nia, so I was surprised when he lingered. In sweatpants and a loose T-shirt that advertised some indie band, the details of his features lost to the darkness, he seemed more college boy than rich kid. Something about his stance suggested hesitation.

“What’s up?” I asked him.

He shifted to the balls of his feet. “I wanted to apologize. For earlier.”

I reviewed the last hour along with our dive this morning. Did he mean his underwater antics with Tom, or putting me on the spot about the picture Katie apparently had in her shop? I started the camera transfer to my phone before I gave him my full attention. “What do you mean?”

“For overstepping.”

“Overstepping?”

“Flirting.” His gaze spun to meet mine, voice low even as his words picked up speed. “I didn’t mean to put you in an awkward position. It wasn’t… No hard feelings, right? I wasn’t thinking.”

Okay, so… huh?

I crossed my legs at the ankle and leaned back against the side of the boat. “You didn’t overstep.”

“I didn’t?” He sounded deeply skeptical. “You kind of scrambled. ”

Because you’re way out of my league.

Yeah, I wasn’t about to admit that I wanted him. Not like ‘holy shit, you drive me crazy’ kind of want, just… casual appreciation. Objectively, he might be the hottest guy I’d seen off-screen, but I wasn’t that shallow. Although, truth be told, I was starting to like him, too.

No matter.

“You’re a guest,” I said instead. “Which means that you’re the one on vacation, and I’m the one making sure you enjoy it. That’s the hierarchy of resort life.”

For a second, Logan didn’t move. Then he sat down next to me on the bench, about an arm’s length of space between us. Light from the wheelhouse glinted along the edge of his profile, his thoughtful voice blending into the night and the gentle lapping of waves against the boat. “What if I told you I didn’t care?”

“Doesn’t change the facts.” I twisted my lips into a smile. “We’re not equals. Not when you can get me fired.”

“Jesus, I wouldn’t.” It had come out rushed and genuine, and yeah, okay, I honestly didn’t think he’d be that guy. Still.

“It’s not about whether you would. It’s about you having that kind of power over me.”

Logan was quiet for a beat. “Would the resort really fire you based on one guest’s complaints, which could be completely made up?”

“I don’t know,” I told him quite honestly. “Maybe not. Nia would fight for me, that’s for sure. But Richard doesn’t like me much.” That was a stretch—I was mostly beneath his notice, just another minion to do his bidding. As long as I performed as intended, he wouldn’t waste his time on me.

“He doesn’t seem to be very popular among the staff.” Logan’s statement tilted up just a hint at the end, inviting me to comment. Shit. He’d run interference at the bar, when Richard had been about to rip Frankie a new one. I appreciated that. But Logan was still a guest , as we’d just established.

“Look, I don’t know much about resort management.” I spread my hands in an aw-shucks gesture. “There’s a reason Richard is running things the way he is, and it’s not like it’s a popularity contest. He needs to get shit done, simple as that.”

One corner of Logan’s mouth tugged up. “Wow. Would you like a white flag with that impressive feat of diplomacy?”

I grinned—couldn’t help it, really. “I do try.”

“Well, nothing in the management handbook says you have to be a dick to get the job done.”

“Theory versus real life?”

“Maybe. But some people are just jerks by nature.”

I shouldn’t. Yet I arched an eyebrow, tilted my head, and pointedly didn’t reply. After a moment, Logan exhaled a laugh, his teeth flashing white in the darkness.

“Hey, that was acting .”

“Keep telling yourself that.”

“I thought you’re supposed to help me enjoy my vacation?”

“And aren’t you?”

“Yeah.” His voice slowed and dipped, rich like dark chocolate. “I really am.”

“All right,” Tom said. “Show us the goods.”

We’d migrated to the front of the boat after switching off all but the mandatory position lights. The night had turned velvety and cool, a contrast to the rum’s warm glow in my belly, dim stars scattered across the sky.

“What goods?” I asked because the request had been directed at me. “If you’re asking me to whip it out—that’s another drink away. Or three.”

Logan coughed a quiet laugh into his cup. “Classy.”

I nodded. “That’s me, yeah.”

“The photos you took,” Tom clarified.

“Sure.” I dug out my phone and called up the first of seven pictures that had made the cut—since I didn’t have the patience for digital clutter, I shot with care and culled with abandon. “Here, swipe left for the next one.”

Tom grabbed my phone, Logan leaning in so he could see the pictures as well. They were quiet for a minute while I kept myself from fidgeting. Yeah, I posted my pictures online, but it was different without the cloak of anonymity.

“This one’s amazing,” Logan said. “The first one, with the sunset cutting through the water. Reminds me of Caravaggio’s chiaroscuro technique.”

Tom nudged him. “Your art degree is showing, man. Leave some pretentious airs for the rest of us.”

“The what technique?” Nia asked.

“Using strong contrasts between light and dark,” I told her, “mostly to give the illusion of depth.” I turned to Logan. “Thought you were studying hospitality management?”

“For my second degree, yeah. Art was my first one.” His shrug conveyed a hint of self-deprecation. “Mostly fucked around with that, to be honest. Just picked something that I liked. Great parties, though.”

Tom laughed as he handed back my phone. “Until his parents read him the riot act. Told him to stop wasting his time and their money.”

“Yeah, well.” Logan dipped his head for another sip of his drink, something somber passing over his face before he smiled. “Not all of us can be working on a PhD in Mathematics. Have some sympathy for mere mortals like me.”

“Seriously?” Nia asked Tom, and uh-oh, I recognized that twinge of interest in her voice. She had a healthy appreciation for eye candy, but intelligence was her kryptonite.

“What can I say?” Tom grinned. “I’m kind of a big deal.”

Logan blew an amused breath through his nose. “I honestly wish he was joking. He’s some sort of genius, just hides it well. Not sure what he’s doing with a loser like me.”

I’d have expected Tom to gleefully accept Logan’s invitation to tease him—it didn’t get much more silver platter than that. Instead, Tom frowned. “Dude, stop insulting my best friend. You’re plenty smart. You just haven’t figured out what it is you really care about.”

It sounded like a conversation they’d had before and made me feel like Nia and I were intruding on years of friendship. I took a mouthful of my drink, lukewarm by now, and let my gaze drift over the shadowed tumble of rainforest that dripped from the island into the dark waters.

I’d missed out on college. Even if I’d known what I wanted to be—other than anything Michael desired—money would have been too tight. And so we’d mocked those who spent years learning useless trivia, who sat on their butts all day parsing towering piles of books rather than putting in some good, honest work. Not that Michael had been terrific at that either.

God, I’d been an idiot.

“Another?” Nia asked, jerking me back from the brink of self-flagellation.

“Think I’ve had enough,” I told her.

“Same.” Logan sighed. “Got to make some actual progress on my thesis tomorrow. More rum seems counterproductive.”

“Suit yourself.” Tom pushed to his feet and held out a hand to help Nia up. “Kindly escort me to the libations, good madam.”

She snorted, but the way she grasped his fingers told me she was charmed. They ambled off together, leaving Logan and me in momentary silence. He broke it, voice low to match the quiet night. “So you’re from Miami, right? How did you end up here?”

The air felt cool on my cheeks as I drew a breath. “Needed a fresh start. Katie knew the guy who used to run the dive shop here and recommended me for the job.”

It wasn’t the whole truth, but Logan didn’t need to know that their connection had taken me both ways—first to Katie after I’d done my Open Water certification here, and back again some six years later. He certainly didn’t need to know about Michael, about how that relationship had damn near erased me until I clawed my way out of a hole I’d helped dig .

Logan raised his cup for another sip. “Bit of a change from the big city.”

“Yeah.” I stretched out my legs. Nia and Tom were chatting in the wheelhouse, their voices fast and bright, and it somehow made me aware of Logan’s warmth beside me, the night like a blanket around our shoulders. “I mean, it can get too quiet here at times,” I continued. “Not a whole lot to do when the biggest town has less than twenty thousand inhabitants. But it’s beautiful. And we get visitors from all over the world, get to hear their stories, so that keeps things interesting.”

His chuckle curled like wispy smoke from a campfire. “Even if some of them are jerks?”

“Or at least fake it well.” I smiled. “No, most people are nice. It’s good.”

“So you don’t miss it? The noise, the lights…”

“Sometimes.” I paused, not sure how to continue—whether I wanted to. The gentle murmur of the waves was a lullaby for my anxious thoughts. “But here… It’s like I can breathe. I wanted simple, you know? Time to figure out who I am.”

“And did you?” The question held a wistful note even though Logan couldn’t possibly understand.

“It’s a work in progress,” I told him, more honest than I’d intended.

“Isn’t that all anyone can ever really say?” His tone left room for an answer without demanding one.

I met his eyes for a smile and shrugged. He smiled back, equally silent, then tipped his head back to watch the night sky. For a second, maybe two, I drank him in—his high cheekbones and the way his drying hair curled around his ears, the slight tilt to his eyes and the sharp cut of his jaw.

Then I looked away and finished the last of my drink. Time to head back.

Crickets chirped through the open bathroom window, fresh air pouring in along with the sound. The cracked mirror above the sink was only just starting to clear, condensation slowly dissipating after I’d showered the salt off my skin.

“So,” Nia said.

I glanced up from wetting my toothbrush under the weak stream of water. “Does that sentence have a subject and verb?”

She tossed me a grin. “You like him.”

I weighed and dismissed the idea of affecting confusion as to who she meant—no use delaying the inevitable. Instead, I devoted a great deal of attention to applying the perfect amount of toothpaste. “Well, he’s hot. I’ve got eyes.”

The eloquent arch of an eyebrow told me exactly what she thought of my attempt at playing it cool. She nudged me out of the way to grab her own toothbrush, the space so cramped that we were able to share it only due to routine and an easygoing attitude about bumping hips and elbows.

“Sure,” she said, accepting the toothpaste from me. “But you also like him.”

I snorted. “This feels like passing notes in class. ‘Do you like him? Check yes or no.’”

“Stop deflecting.”

Ha, as if.

“Well.” I aimed for a haughty smirk. “You like Tom.”

“I do,” she said easily. Damn, and there went all the wind in my sails. “But you’re the one who’s been living like a monk, minus the fashionable buzz cut.”

“Uh.” I fixed her reflection with a pointed squint. “Conservative island state? Homosexuality is a sin in the eyes of the Lord? And the law, up until recently?”

“That hasn’t been enforced in a good long while, and the fact they finally abolished it is proof of that.”

“It’s proof they don’t want to harm the tourism bottom line,” I countered .

“One doesn’t exclude the other.” Nia’s voice turned gentle. “I’m just saying, Milo—have some fun. Get laid. It’d be good for you.”

I entertained the thought for a second—Logan’s dimples and big hands, his fucking perfect body. What if I’d dragged him in right after he’d sipped from his rum toddy, chased the spices on his tongue? Or even before that, after he’d apologized for overstepping—what if I’d pulled him towards me right then, one hand fisted in his hair and the other grabbing his ass, fingers digging into the muscle? I exhaled and focused on the minty taste of reality.

“Just so we’re clear,” I told Nia. “Ordering me to get laid when you’re my boss? Wildly inappropriate.”

“Remember last week, when you whined about your neck until I gave you a massage?” She smirked around her toothbrush. “Didn’t hear you complaining about hierarchies then.”

Fine. It had been a weak argument anyway.

“He’s a guest,” I said.

“When has that ever stopped me ?”

“But you’re you.” I jerked my chin at her. “You’re the unofficial queen around here. Meanwhile, me?” I pointed back at myself. “I’m the court jester. Also, I don’t even know if the attraction is mutual.”

“One,” she said, “way to make romance sound like a corporate merger. And two, of course it’s mutual.”

The easy statement shouldn’t have burst in my gut like a firecracker. I forced myself to breathe through it, spit and rinse. “How do you know?”

“Look, Milo.” Nia’s voice softened. “I know you were an awkward teenager and Michael did a real number on you. But you, my friend? You are hot .”

I willed down the heat in my cheeks. “Again—inappropriate.”

She laughed. “Please, you’re like my brother. Doesn’t mean I can’t judge these things or see how people look at you. So— Logan . Think about it, okay?”

“You’re like a tiny devil on my shoulder.”

“Someone has to be.” She set down her toothbrush and leaned her hip against the sink, suddenly serious. “Hey, it’s not every day I see you show actual interest in someone. In fact, it’s a first. So, come on. What’s the worst that could happen?”

Richard could fire me. Logan could say no, and I might make a fool of myself. Or he’d say yes and I’d lose myself in him.

Except I wasn’t that guy anymore.

I pursed my lips. “Do you want it alphabetically or by order of magnitude?”

“All I hear are excuses.”

Ugh. I dropped my gaze and swallowed. “He’s only here for a month.”

“I didn’t say you have to marry him.” She grinned, but it was quieter than before, sweet and fond. “Just… have a good time, for once. Live a little.”

“I’ll consider it,” I said, mostly to shut her up.

I wouldn’t. It wasn’t worth the risk.