23. Sail

sail

. . .

S ail spent all of Saturday on the water. By the time he managed to put his dinghy onto the trailer, he was exhausted and slumped over in the passenger seat of Crew’s truck. When they got home, he didn’t bother to shower and barely had enough energy to climb the up the stairs to his room. He flopped on his bed, with his phone in his hand, and had every intention of texting Galvin. To his credit, they hadn’t made plans and she’d taken the late shift. They’d see each other tomorrow, and he’d hopefully get her out on the water.

When he woke the next morning, he felt crusty, sore, and swore he’d been drinking all night. His mouth tasted like he drank a gallon of moonshine, even though he’d never had it before in his life and had only heard horror stories about how it put hair on your chest. He made his way to the bathroom, smacking his lips with each step he took. Turning the shower on, he cranked the water to hot, used the facilities and stripped out of his sea dried clothes.

“I’m a mess,” he muttered as he stepped into the scalding hot shower. He let out a scream. It was neither manly nor one he hoped anyone heard and pressed himself against the shower wall to adjust the dial.

Every muscle ached. Even the aches ached. He’d lost to Crew. Every time they went out, no matter the course, Crew whooped his ass, easily. By the end of the day, Crew had taken on the role of big brother and was whipping Sail into shape.

“I should quit,” he said to the shower wall. He was lucky it didn’t talk back because it would tell him to grow up. Sail entered the contest and he needed to see it through.

After what felt like an eternity, Sail washed and rewashed every inch of his body until his skin turned red. With each pass of the washcloth, more sea junk fell off his skin. It was like Sail had swum with the fishes and nestled in a bed of seaweed.

“Stupid rain.”

Of course, the weather hadn’t helped. Sail wanted to cancel yesterday’s excursion, but Jack was against it. A little rain wouldn’t stop a regatta. Thunder and lightning were a different story.

A loud continuous knock sounded at the door. “Hurry up, I gotta go to work.”

Sail couldn’t tell which brother needed the bathroom and he thought about reminding whoever was at the door that they had two more he could use. But the likelihood was, the brother’s stuff was in this one, and that meant Sail needed to hurry.

He shut off the water, grabbed his towel, and put his disgusting clothes in the hamper. He’d start a load of laundry after he dressed because his mom shouldn’t have to clean up after him. Sail opened the door to find Tidal standing there.

“Where’s your bathrobe?”

“Don’t have one,” Sail said as he looked down at the towel around his waist. Their parents had oversized towels which seemed to cover everything. “What’s wrong with my towel?”

That’s when he heard the voices downstairs.

“Who’s here?”

“Mom’s book club.”

“She has a book club?”

Tidal nodded. “They’re all . . . I don’t even know the word for it, but they make eyes at me. Some come into the hotel and they’re all ‘hey, Tidal,’ and touching my arms and shit.”

“Rawr,” Sail made a clawing motion with his hand. “Sugar mama or cougar?”

Tidal’s eyes widened. “Gross. Those are my mother’s friends!”

Sail laughed. “We see this shit all the time in Miami. The older women, younger men. Vice versa. It happens. People like to feel alive.”

“Are you saying Mom is going to leave Dad for a younger man?”

The thought made Sail’s stomach twist and revolt. He couldn’t even imagine his parents splitting up. Not only would it ruin their family, but the people of Seaport would be beside themselves.

“No, I’m just saying don’t knock it until you try it.”

“Are you dating someone in Miami?”

Sail couldn’t believe the words coming from his brother. “First of all, I’m not a douche. If I had someone in Miami, I wouldn’t pursue Galvin. Second of all, see the first. I’ve made mistakes in my life, but I’ve never cheated, and I would never disrespect Galvin that way.”

He pushed past this brother and headed toward his room.

“I’m so?—”

“Can it, Tidal.”

Sail slammed his door. He sat on the edge of his bed, fuming. It would be one thing if he’d messed around with a bunch of girls back in high school, but he hadn’t. He’d never been the type. Yes, college changed people, but he wasn’t one of them.

It took him a minute to calm down. Once he had, he dressed in khaki shorts and a navy sweater with a white collared shirt underneath. He was in desperate need of a haircut and opted to wear a navy ball cap to keep his unruly locks in place while they were out on the water.

He and Galvin had a date. Sail was very much looking forward to taking her out for her first sailing trip. The weather already looked promising. And then tonight, they’ll gather around his families table for dinner. In the morning, his life would be about the upcoming regatta. Three days of constant sailing, competing, and planning.

Before he picked up Galvin, he stopped at the local sandwich shop and ordered up their lunch. He was tempted to add a bottle of wine to his order, but then decided he’d done really well since his return and didn’t want to mess with what he had going on.

Sail stood at the helm, his fingers curled around the worn mahogany wheel, eyes squinting against the golden sunlight that danced across the waves. The sea stretched out in every direction, a vast quilt of sapphire and cerulean hues, stitched together by glimmers of white foam. The boat—his parent’s boat—cut through the water with practiced grace, its sails billowing like the wings of a swan. The wind whispered secrets only he could hear, and for a moment, Sail was entirely at home.

He turned his head and looked at Galvin. She stood at the bow, her arms crossed tightly over her chest, knuckles white as she gripped the steel railing. The sun bore down on her, making her look as majestic as he thought she was, but her face was etched with uncertainty. She stared out at the water as though it might betray her at any moment.

Sail would never let that happen.

He smiled, a mixture of amusement and love playing across his features. He’d been on boats since the day he was born. There wasn’t a time in his life he couldn’t remember being on the water, but for Galvin, this was a first. When she told him she’d never been out on the water, like this with the wind rushing through them, he wanted to be the one bring her and share this moment with her.

The deck creaked underfoot as he made his way over to her and shielded his eyes as he looked toward the sky at a flock of birds heading toward land. The scent of salt, freedom, and happiness filled him.

“Hey,” he said softly, coming up behind her.

Galvin jumped slightly, then let out a breath and laughed, though it was a little too forced. “Sorry. I didn’t hear you.”

“That’s because the boat’s behaving herself today.” He glanced at her hands, still clenched around the railing. “You don’t have to hold on so tight, you know.”

“Easy for you to say.” Her voice wavered, but she tried to mask it with a half-smile. “I feel like if I let go, I’ll go flying into the water.”

He chuckled and stood behind her, encasing her body with his arms as he gripped the railing. Sail kissed her neck, the spot near her ear which made her quiver. “The boat’s got you. And I’ve got you. You’re not going anywhere.”

Her brown eyes found his, filled with doubt and hope. “Promise?”

“Always.”

She nodded, taking a very slow, shaky breath. “Okay.”

Galvin pressed her back into Sail and closed her eyes. He could stay like this all day and night, if given the chance. He’ll never understand, or to even try to understand, how in such a short amount of time, she had this much hold over him. His mom had always told him, the right one will come along when you least expect it.

Early, in his life, when he left for college, he’d promised himself he’d never look for the one. Believing no such thing existed. And yet, here he was, with the person who was undoubtedly, his one.

Sail kissed neck her again, and this time, she angled her head slightly, giving him more access. He felt her body go rigid and then pull away from him. Without letting go of the railing, she turned toward him.

“What’s wrong?”

“Who is driving the boat if you’re here with me and we’re clearly moving?”

Sail laughed. “Autopilot.”

“As in a drone is guiding us?”

He loved how adorable she was. He shook his head, smiling at her. “The navigational system will keep the boat on the course I set. Obviously, I’m right here if something goes wrong.”

“Oh,” she said looking over his shoulder. Sail had a fairly good idea she watched the helm move back and forth on its own.

“I would never allow anything to happen to you, Galvin. Ever.”

“I know. I’m just nervous.” She reached up and touched the seasickness patch he’d placed there earlier. The last thing he wanted was for her to get sick and then never want to come out with him again. He needed this to be a positive, happy, and romantic experience for her.

“Want to try something with me?” he asked.

“Depends. Will it involve me getting wet?”

He laughed. “Not unless you want it to.” Sail winked, hoping to send the right message.

She tilted her head and blushed. “What do you have in mind?”

“Come with me to the helm. I’ll show you how to steer.”

Her eyes widened. “Steer? Me?”

“Yeah. Why not? I’ll be right there with you. It’s not as hard as you think. And you might even like it.”

She bit her lower lip and glanced out at the open water. This was the place he loved but he imagined what it might look like for someone who wasn’t as familiar with the ocean as he was. The waves seemed vast and unknowable, temperamental and always shifting, and never the same size.

But then she looked back at Sail, and he saw something shift in her eyes. The fear was gone, replaced with determination.

“All right,” she said, her voice steadier now. “Let’s do it.”

Sail kissed her hard, smiling against her mouth. It was a small step, but one she’d take with him. He took her hand and led her to the helm. The wheel loomed before them, large and imposing, and her grip on his hand tightened.

Sail guided her to the helm and placed her hands on the metal. “Feel it,” he said as he stood behind her. “Let the helm tell you what it’s doing. Right now, the navigation is guiding us.”

“It feels so strong.”

“It’s easy, believe me.”

“Let up a little,” he said as he rubbed her knuckles. They were white again, her hold a bit too tight.

“Like this?”

Sail turned off the navigation and moved the helm under her hands. “Good,” he murmured, standing close behind her. His arms came around her, his hands covering hers. “You’re not fighting it. Just guiding.”

Her back was warm against his chest, and he breathed her in. Between her perfume and the sea salt air, he was in heaven and seriously considered turning the navigation back on and seeing if Galvin wanted her sea legs—his now perverted version of the mile high club—and something he’d never done with anyone before.

Galvin shifted, making the growing issue in his shorts a slightly bigger problem. “Stop moving,” he warned. “Or I’m going to fuck you right here and make you keep us on course.”

“Sail,” her voice barely made it over the sound of the ocean.

“What we’re going to do first,” he said as he pointed. “Do you see that opening? Where it looks like nothing exists?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s where we’re headed. Keep her pointed there. I’ll adjust the sails if needed.”

“What if I mess up?”

“You won’t,” he assured her. “But if you do, I’m right here.”

“What’s there anyway?”

“The ocean.”

Galvin stared from him to the vast space in front of her. “Then what’s this?”

“The bay.”

She pointed. “Sharks!”

Sail smirked. “Too cold for that right now.”

“But they do exist here?”

He shrugged. “Anything’s possible if they’re hungry enough.” He wouldn’t tell her the truth. It wouldn’t serve him well at the moment. “But this isn’t the right season. Like I said, the water is too cold right now.”

She inhaled slowly and nodded. He stepped back just a little, giving her space, but his presence was a solid wall behind her.

Steady.

Unwavering.

She turned the wheel slightly to the left, and the boat respond to her command, the bow slicing through the waves.

“I’m doing it,” she whispered.

“Yeah,” Sail said, his voice tinged with pride. “You are.”

They sailed like that for a while, the silence between them comfortable, filled only with the sounds of the sea. The sun climbed higher, warming their skin. Galvin’s shoulders relaxed by degrees until she no longer looked like she was bracing for disaster. Her smile widened, genuine now, radiant.

Sail leaned against the rail, watching her, his heart swelling. This was the woman who’d surprised him at every turn, who’d challenged him, teased him, and made him feel alive. Seeing her here, onhisturf, conquering her fears—it made him fall a little deeper.

After a while, she turned to him, eyes shining. “I think I love it,” she said. “The wind, the water. It feels . . .free.”

He grinned. “Told you.”

She stepped away from the wheel, and he took over, steering them toward the open waters. H would never ask her to navigate the rougher waters. She stood beside him, her hair whipping around her face, cheeks flushed with excitement.

“Thank you,” she said quietly. “For this. For being patient.”

He looked at her, his expression softening. “You don’t have to thank me. I love having you here.”

Her eyes met his, and for a moment, everything else fell away—the sea, the sky, the world itself. There was only them.

“You know,” she said, “I think I might trust you with my life.”

Sail reached for her hand, threading his fingers through hers. “I’d take care of it like it was my own.” He leaned in, his lips brushing against hers, a whisper of salt and sunlight. She leaned into him, the world tilting in the best way possible.