12. Billie

CHAPTER 12

BILLIE

“ H ow can this island possibly be big enough for a waterfall?” asks Jens as we crunch through a barely visible trail. “It’s not tall enough, is it?”

I shrug. “I mean, it’s not that small. It’d take you two days to walk from one side to the other. And there is a waterfall.”

He hums thoughtfully, as if rotating a map in his mind. Or constructing one. Or maybe he’s just off on another one of his tangents. Then he says, “Are we almost there? I don’t like hiking.”

“You don’t like anything!” I scoff.

“Not true,” he says, too quickly, then clamps his mouth shut like he was about to say something that he didn’t really mean.

I squint at him in curiosity, but by now I know better than to ask him questions. It’s not like I’m going to get any answers.

“Whatever. Yes, we’re nearly there,” I say. “We’re just going the scenic route.”

“Why?” he whines.

“Because I thought you might be interested in seeing some of the conservation efforts that are going on here. People don’t just come here for the animals, you know.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, for sure. Why do you think we get no signal out here? This is one of the few places in the world where we’re trying to keep as much negative human impact away as possible.”

“Cool,” he says, his eyes widening.

I tell him some more about it as I walk, and as I keep glancing back at him, I can’t help but notice the way he looks. In the week or so of being here without products or a razor, his hair has grown shaggy, no longer well-groomed and styled. Scattered stubble prickles at his chin, and the sun has kissed his skin, turning him from a pale Scandinavian into a golden island boy.

I just wish he would give me some answers.

As we pass some birds perched on a branch, I point out the way they’re all tagged. “All those tags have a microchip in them,” I explain. “So we can track where the birds go, who they interact with, stuff like that. We can build a pretty good picture of all the different habits of the birds.”

“That’s really cool,” he says, then tilts his head a little, thinking. “Billie, why don’t you have a degree in this stuff? Why aren’t you studying it for real?”

I bite my lip, then think oh, what the hell and confess to him. “I was an only child, and my mother… well, it was just me and her, and we never had the easiest relationship. And college in the US isn’t exactly cheap, and I was never smart enough for a full-ride scholarship or sporty enough to get in that way. But I would have loved to have gone, and studied ecology and conservation. God, how cool would that be?”

My face falls as I get snapped back to reality. There’s no point in dreaming about this again. “But I didn’t, so I’m here now.”

“You’ve still got time,” Jens says gently. “You’re what, twenty-three, twenty-four?”

I chuckle at his flattery. “I’m twenty-five.”

“There you go, then. You’re still young. There’s still plenty of time. What’s stopping you?”

“It’s not time that’s the issue,” I mutter.

I can’t say it doesn’t feel good to have him believe in me so wholeheartedly, but there’s no use in trying to explain. Somehow, I’d let myself forget that he clearly comes from money, and that means he’ll never understand what it’s like to have to work for everything you’ve ever had.

“You should think about it. I bet you’d be really good at it,” he keeps going, as if motivation is the thing I’m lacking.

“I would,” I say, nodding. I know more than enough to breeze through a bachelor’s by now.

“There you go, then! You should go!”

“Yeah, me and whose money?” I sigh, then wince at seeing his face fall. I don’t want him to feel bad about this, but facts are facts.

It’s not worth dwelling on.

“Look, we’re nearly there!” I say, changing the subject decisively.

I run ahead, disappearing around the corner where the path widens up. Jens crashes along behind me and comes to a sudden halt with a gasp when he sees the lake.

It’s a beautiful spot — not quite the tropical lagoon of movies, but gorgeous nevertheless. It’s surrounded by greenery, huge leafy trees, birds flitting about the sky, and mammals snuffling around in the bushes. And at one edge of the lake stands the waterfall, crashing down in a white torrent that casts a sense of serenity over everything.

“Wow,” says Jens, stepping forward, looking around, mouth wide open. “This place is awesome “Don’t you just want to come on vacation here like all the time?”

“You can’t,” I chuckle. “You have to get a permit, remember?”

“Damn,” he frowns, almost disappointed that he can’t make this a destination for the future. “I’m glad to be here now, then. Wait — is this illegal? I don’t have a permit. Am I allowed to be here?”

I laugh. “Don’t worry, I think they would make an exception for a guy who got shipwrecked and washed up on shore and had to be rescued by…”

“Rescued by?” He frowns, puzzled by why I stopped halfway through my sentence.

The truth is, I was about to say rescued by a beautiful woman, but somehow flirting with him feels like something I shouldn’t do, even though he’s gorgeous. And even though we’ve spent way too much time together over the last week, the chances of him — a handsome, rich guy — wanting anything to do with someone like me are very, very small.

“By someone,” I say lamely, not knowing how else to end the sentence.

Jens nods sagely, as if that’s a good enough response for him, and I’m just glad it gets me off the hook.

We keep walking in silence, and I feel that stupid desire to hold his hand again. A few times, we’ve held hands — not in any meaningful way, but every time he’s helped me up or I’ve guided him through the woods and our hands have entwined, sparks have flooded through my fingers.

I crush it all down. There’s no point getting caught up in something that can’t be.

Even if he is utterly gorgeous.

“Can I swim?” he asks as we approach the waterfall.

“You want to swim?”

“Yeah, why not? I don’t mind getting my shirt wet. Unless it’s not allowed. I mean, if there’s, I don’t know, important fish or special seaweed, or?—”

“Yes, Jens. You can swim. I’m going to catch us our dinner.”

“ Catch it?”

I burst into laughter. He’s just so adorable like this, when he’s clueless and confused. “Yeah, dummy. A fish. You know, those things that come from the water. Please tell me you know where food comes from.”

He rolls his eyes. “Yes, of course I do. I just didn’t realize that would be allowed here.”

I could swear that for a fraction of a second, his eyes dart down to my breasts, and I have to stop myself from throwing him my own wanting look. He probably wasn’t. He’s not that kind of guy. It’s just my own wishful thinking going wild.

He strips off his pants as I settle down with my net, and I stare down at the water, willing myself not to stare at him as he jumps into the lake. He swims right up to the waterfall, dives under the surface, then emerges, throwing his hands into the air. He pushes his wet eyes out of his hair, then waves at me. “This is awesome!” he yells.

I just smile back. His T-shirt is sticking to his chest, showing off his defined pecs, teasing me with the idea of his abs, his taut stomach. His muscular thighs…

This is becoming a real problem.

Fishing. I am fishing. I am not looking at Jens, standing under the waterfall, grinning back at me whenever he catches my eye. I’ve promised him a fish dinner, and that’s what we’re going to have.

He swims back over to me eventually, giving me that puppy-dog smile again. “Got anything yet?”

“No, not yet.”

“Oh. How long does it usually take?”

“What — you in a rush to get back?”

He shakes his head and flops back into the water with a splash. “No! Not even a bit!”

“You’ll scare the fish off with all that noise,” I laugh, and cover my mouth with my hand to stop myself from giggling as he keeps splashing around to amuse me.

“You love me really,” he winks, then dives back under the water like he doesn’t want to see how I react to the comment.

Which is good, because I react with open-mouthed shock. There’s no way he can know, can he?

And then, a fish all but jumps into my net.

I whoop for joy, which brings Jens back to the surface, blinking the water out of his eyes so he can stare at me again. “Oh! You got one!”

Quickly, I pull it out of the net and, as humanely as I can, put it out of its misery. Jens winces, but I ignore him. How else does he think we’re going to eat it?

“Does this mean we have to go now?” he asks, frowning pitifully.

“Not at all,” I grin, leaning back on the grass, tilting my face up towards the sun so I can absorb its warm rays. “Take as long as you want. We’ll go back whenever you’re ready.”

He winks at me again, then heads back out into the lake. I watch him go. I can’t pretend it isn’t a pleasant sight.

And I’d be lying if I said I wanted this to end. Sitting here in the sun, watching my new friend having the time of his life on my favorite island in the world? Yes. I could do this forever.