Chapter 5

5

" I didn't know you get service out here." And by out here I mean the middle of the freaking ocean. As in, there is nothing around. Nothing visible but blue water and blue sky and the sun.

"That's because you haven't bothered to turn on your phone," he quips without bothering to look up. "But we don't have regular service out here. This is a satellite phone."

"Then what difference would it make if I turned on my phone if we don't have service?"

It's also not true. I turned on my phone shortly after we left Miami and texted my parents to let them know everything was good, that I was safe, and that I'd be out of touch for about ten days or so. Since the stalker, they're jumpy when it comes to me. Understandably so since I was a minor when all of that started, but I'm not a child anymore. I'm not a little girl. And I'm tired of feeling like I have to ask permission for everything I do.

He ignores me. He's absurdly good at that.

This is our third full day on the boat, and I've held to my word. I've kept my distance from him. We take turns cooking and cleaning up, but other than that, we don't talk or interact much, last night's dinner and swim notwithstanding. At home, there are always people around or someone calling and texting me. Even when I'm alone, I'm not truly alone.

So all this quiet and solitude was fabulous when I drove down to Miami from Georgia, and even the last two days as we sailed. It was the mental recharge I needed to start things off. I wrote almost a full song, the words and notes flowing through my head like the boat cutting through water, and after that, I relaxed in the sun, and read a smutty rom-com.

Stone's been quiet and introspective, and I haven't wanted to interrupt that even if I still don't know what brought him out here.

Today, I'm starting to get a little antsy. It doesn't help that Stone won't let me do much with the ship and spends all his time sailing us in a very serious and concentrated way. Plus, the boat's really been moving, choppy water that makes us rock from side to side and high winds so loud it's difficult to hear myself think, let alone sing. I can't read because, with the way the boat is moving, it makes me a little nauseated. I've been strumming my guitar, sitting in the center of the boat since I've found it's the most stable part, rocks the littlest, and has shade with the hard top hanging over me, but even here I can hardly hear what I'm playing.

So yeah, I'm antsy. Possibly a bit bored. I need a change. Something to do to occupy me. At least until we stop somewhere or the boat settles.

"Who are you texting?" I ask when I can't take his silent dismissal for another second.

"My parents," he says without any inflection to his voice or even bothering to look up from his screen "I'm letting them know we're sailing to Nassau."

"I thought you said we were—" My fingers freeze mid- strum and I lift my chin in his direction as I snag on one word. "We?"

He glances up quickly before returning to his phone, typing in rapid fire with two thumbs. "I told them you're with me."

"What?!" I shriek, shooting to my feet as he continues to text.

"I didn't think it was right that you didn't tell anyone where you are. What if someone needs to get in touch with you? You told me your phone is off and in the bottom of your suitcase. That's not safe. They said they'd let your parents know. I'm sure they're worried about you."

"Are you kidding me?" I set my guitar down and fly at him. He jumps back from the wheel—the ship evidently on autopilot—and I just miss him. "You better not have, Stone. I mean it. My parents would be supersonically pissed that I not only lied to them but snuck onto your boat the way I did."

"Why? You're an adult. What can they do?"

True. I am an adult, but as an adult, I don't want to answer questions that I know my parents will ask. Not to mention answering to others and doing as they tell me has been one of my toxic traits for, well, my entire life.

"Stone, please tell me you didn't tell your parents I'm with you."

"It's just my parents." He shrugs indifferently. "They won't mention anything to Forest." He tilts his head. "Why don't you want them to know that you're with me?"

My eyebrows shoot up and my palms tingle, ready to strangle that cocky, surefire smirk from his handsome face. "You better not be serious."

"And what if I am? What will you do? My parents and I are close. I tell them everything."

I narrow my eyes skeptically, studying him. Unfortunately, he has a hell of a poker face. "I don't believe you. You wouldn't do that. You don't want anyone to know I'm with you any more than I do."

He holds his phone out in front of him and wiggles it back and forth. "Come see for yourself."

I charge, and he shoots to his right, putting the leather captain's chair between us, and fuck him for being so fast. "You missed, Little Rose." His phone pings with an incoming text, and his smirk grows into a Cheshire grin. "I wonder what they have to say. Should I read it out loud?"

"Really? You want to taunt me like that?"

His head bobs toward his shoulder, and he makes a passive noise.

"You broke our pact."

Another shrug, and he returns to his phone, typing something in. Hmm. Okay. If he wants to play dirty, I'll play even dirtier. I rip off my shirt and then shimmy out of my shorts, then toss both in his face. I'm wearing a hot pink bikini. The kind that's a lot of string and not a lot of fabric. I planned to be on this boat alone, after all.

"If you get to break our pact, so do I. Should I bend over to give you the full boob and ass effect?"

His eyes flash, growing molten as a stream of emotions passes over his face, tightening his lips in displeasure. I fold my arms under my chest, making my girls lift. Now it's my turn to smirk.

"Put your clothes back on," he grits out, and a muscle in his jaw tics.

"Let me see your text." I hold out my hand, palm side up.

Neither of us moves, other than for me to flip some of the wind-tangled strands that escaped my braid out of my face.

"I mean it, Tinsley."

"You know, I didn't do my sunrise yoga this morning. The boat was moving too much. But maybe I should do it now." I turn and hear him curse when I start to bend into a downward-facing dog, and he gets a view of my ass since these are more than a little cheeky.

"Cut the shit and put your damn clothes back on."

"Just let me see your phone so I know you're lying. How hard can that be?" My gaze drops to his swim trunks, but with the angle of the sun shining directly on him, I can't actually see anything or tell if he's hard. Shame.

"You're being a brat."

"And you're being a dick," I throw back at him, righting myself and glaring at him. "Speaking of. Let's see how excited we can make the little guy. I've always wanted to sunbathe topless." I reach behind my neck and start to undo the knot there. I don't actually intend to show him my tits again, but he doesn't know that. The threat is there and he's reading it loud and clear.

He growls in pissed off defeat and tosses his phone at me, making me catch it.

"Wow. You must really want me to put my clothes back on. And here I thought I looked pretty good in this bikini."

He's not amused, but I sure as hell am.

"For the record, you didn't make me hard."

I pout mockingly, staring down at his shorts again. "Aw, poor little guy. Do you have performance issues?" My eyes flash back up to his. "Is that why you came out here alone instead of with one of your usual companions?"

He moves around the chair and sidles up to me. His hand wraps around my waist to hold me steady as the boat rocks, towering over me and forcing my neck to crane to meet his eyes. "Oh, Little Rose, I think we both know I have no issues with that, and you can call my guy little all you like, but there is nothing little about me, soft or not. You're cute when you think you can tempt me to prove it to you. "

I smile. It's not a kind smile. "Except this isn't a challenge I'm trying to win. The last thing I want to see is your tiny, limp guy, even if we both know you want to see my girls."

His gaze shifts, dropping down between us just as a text comes in, and he immediately draws back, his expression showing me all the ways he's sworn to hate me for eternity.

"Unlock it," I demand, and shockingly, he complies.

He does it with his face for me to find his text is already pulled up on his screen, and I see it's a group chat he has with Mason, Vander, and Owen, his friends and cousin. Mason and Vander are my friends too since their dads are best friends with my dad and long before they had us, they were in a very successful rock band called Central Square. My father was the lead singer and is where I get my own vocal talent from. Owen I don't know as well, but he's my best friend Wren's older brother.

I quickly read through his texts, making sure there's nothing about me in them, but something catches my eyes, and I freeze before slowly looking back up at him, my eyes wide and my mouth gaping open as a shiver runs up my spine. "We're getting a storm? A hurricane?"

I hand him back his phone and go for my clothes, slipping back on my tank top and shorts because now the game isn't so fun.

"Possibly. When I checked the other day, it was tracking in a different direction as all the models had it curving east and blowing out to the open ocean by now. It swung more west than they were anticipating and stalled. Right now, I have us heading south instead of north where we were originally going, so hopefully if we do catch any of it, it's just the tail."

"Stone." I pause for a beat and audibly swallow.

I don't like storms. Not any kind of storm. When I was nine, my parents thought it would be fun to take me and my younger siblings camping, and we got stuck in a horrific thunder and lightning storm complete with hail and monsoon-caliber rain that flash-flooded our tent. I nearly drowned trying to get my siblings who were little above the water in our tent. I had nightmares about it for years. I am not okay with this. Not to mention, a hurricane is an entirely different level of beast.

"Why didn't you tell me?" I bite into my lip, and I can feel myself shaking. I'll be honest, this all sounded like a great idea and a fun adventure, but the no-visible land thing with a hurricane nearby is disquieting and frankly freaking me the fuck out. Stone is obviously very experienced with sailing—he's been doing it his whole life with his father—but the idea of a hurricane out here…

My heart starts to pound as panic sets in.

"Hey." He steps forward, putting his hand on my arm, only to immediately pull away and then think better of it and bring me into his chest and hold me. "It's okay. She's a big ship and meant to handle rough seas. We'll be nowhere near the heavy stuff, and it's only a category one at its center. We'll be fine. This is why I didn't tell you. I didn't want you to worry. It might blow right past us and not be a thing."

"When is it supposed to hit?"

"According to my radar and the reports the guys are telling me, maybe sometime overnight. If at all," he tacks on. "All that said, I do think you should tell your parents where you are."

"Because we could die tonight?"

He pulls back and makes a show of rolling his eyes. "We're not dying tonight, Little Rose." He releases me and goes back to the wheel. "I'm going to lower the sails and keep the engine on autopilot, and we'll go slow. As it is right now, we're getting great tailwinds, and they're pushing us along at a good clip."

"How far are we from land?"

He keeps his back to me as he answers, and I don't like that. It feels like he's trying to hide something from me. "The storm will make landfall over Great Abaco, which is closer to Grand Bahama than I want to be, so I had to change our course and head south. We're about ninety nautical miles from Nassau." He throws his head over his shoulders and briefly meets my eyes. "But like I said, it won't be a big deal."