Chapter 32
Dinner fades into background noise – the sound of everyone laughing, drinking, having a good time. It’s been fun, hanging out together, enjoying ourselves like it might be our last night on earth. Well, when it might, why not, right?
Every so often, I’ve caught Lockie looking at me across the firepit. Not in his usual way though, I don’t know, it’s like his cogs are turning. I’m not quite sure what they’re telling him.
It makes my stomach twist up, like I’m about to board a rollercoaster with a name like ‘Skull Destroyer’ or ‘Death Trap’, or like I’m walking along the edge of a cliff hoping I don’t fall.
And, of course, how do I notice that he keeps glancing at me, unless I keep catching myself glancing at him too?
When he finally stands, brushing sand from his shorts, I know before he says a word that he’s going somewhere, and I’m going with him.
My heart thuds, loud enough I’m convinced Honey can hear it next to me.
For a second I panic – should I say something?
Should I act chill? But Lockie just tilts his head, a silent invitation, and it’s like my feet move without consulting my brain.
‘Come on,’ he says. ‘I fancy a walk.’
I arch a brow.
‘Why do I feel like you’re about to get me killed?’ I ask as I follow him.
He just gives that maddening, gorgeous half-smile.
‘Come find out.’
The others barely notice us slip away: Tony’s arguing with Camilla about who drank the last of the rum – he says she has a guilty look on her face, she says it’s just good genetics – and Ozzy is letting Honey pull his hair into cute little plaits, which makes me think he might be the one who polished off the rum.
It’s the first time I’ve felt invisible in weeks, and it’s delicious.
No eyes on us. No cameras. No producers.
Just dark, warm air and the thud of my own pulse in my ears as I follow Lockie into the trees.
The jungle swallows the light quickly. The further we walk, the more the night wraps around us.
He doesn’t say anything for a while, just glances back every so often to check I’m still behind him, still following him. I pretend not to stare at the muscles shifting in his back, the way his shoulders move as he pushes through vines, but it’s captivating.
‘This better not end with me falling into a volcano,’ I say. ‘Or being snatched up by a net, like you see in the movies.’
‘No promises,’ he says. ‘But I’m pretty sure we’d know if there was a volcano – knowing our luck, probably via it erupting – and if you do get caught up in a net, it won’t be mine.’
I’m not so sure about that.
‘I feel like we know every inch of this island,’ I remind him. ‘So I don’t know where you could be taking me, unless you got that hatch open, and there really is a man with a bunch of food in there.’
He laughs, softly.
‘You’ll just have to trust me.’
‘Yeah, that’s famously one of my weaknesses,’ I reply.
The sound reaches me before the sight: water. Oh, we’re at the waterfall. I’ve been here before – not at night though, and it really is something.
The waterfall is silver in the moonlight, crashing into a pool of black glass below.
The rocks feel slick beneath my feet and the roar of water is so loud I have to lean closer to hear Lockie’s voice.
‘It’s better at night,’ he says, watching me instead of the view.
‘I can see that,’ I reply. ‘It’s beautiful.’
‘Come on,’ he says.
‘What, have you brought me here for a wash?’ I joke. ‘Do I smell that bad?’
‘If you do, we all do,’ he jokes. ‘But that’s not why, just trust me.’
He takes my hand – properly takes it, his fingers sliding between mine, gripping me firmly – and leads me towards the curtain of falling water.
‘We’re going under it?’ I check. ‘Because that is just the shower – are you trying to get me wet?’
I regret my choice of word the second he starts grinning.
‘Don’t say a word,’ I warn him.
‘I’m not trying to trick you into showering,’ he replies. ‘And we’re not going under it, we’re going through it.’
I cock my head curiously.
‘Through it?’ I check. ‘What’s through it?’
‘Wait and see,’ he replies.
He just smirks and steps through first, tugging me gently after him. The waterfall crashes over my shoulders, cold and wild, stealing my breath. And then it fades.
We’re behind it, in a hidden alcove behind the water. The only light comes filtered through the wall of falling water, turning everything silver-blue. It’s small, but it feels… safe. Untouchable.
‘I had no idea this was here,’ I whisper.
‘It’s where you get into the control room, for the waterfall,’ he explains. ‘The door is locked, because of course it is, but this might just be the most private spot on the island.’
‘I love it,’ I blurt.
We sit on a flat rock, close enough that our legs brush. Lockie runs his thumb over my knuckles, absent-mindedly, like he’s done it a hundred times. I tuck my wet hair behind my ears and try very hard to act normal, but my breath catches, and I hope he doesn’t notice.
We don’t say anything, or look at each other, for a while – we just watch the water.
When he finally speaks, his voice is softer than I’ve ever heard it before.
‘I meant what I said before, you know. About not getting through this without you,’ he tells me.
‘You too,’ I reply. ‘You wouldn’t have been my first choice for the end of the world but next time, if we’re unlucky enough to have a next time, you’ll make the top five.’
He laughs but doesn’t look away after, he just stares at me, and there’s something in his eyes…
‘You’ve kept me sane,’ he says.
I swallow.
‘Right back at you.’
A beat passes – one of those long ones that lasts a lifetime, that feels impossible to breathe normally through.
‘At least us being off-air gets you off the hook,’ I say lightly, looking back at the water. ‘You don’t have to pretend to fancy me any more.’
Silence.
‘Who says I was pretending?’ he eventually replies.
My heart punches my chest. I force a laugh.
‘Oh, shut up.’
He doesn’t. And he shifts closer too.
‘If I didn’t fancy you,’ he starts, his voice barely audible over the sound of the water, ‘could I do this?’
His lips brush my neck – slow, deliberate and, unlike when he did it in the challenge, it feels hungrier. Like he’s not going to stop.
‘You did that to Honey too,’ I manage to remind him, though my voice comes out weak and breathy.
‘That was for a dare.’ His breath tickles my damp skin. ‘And I wished it was you.’
I don’t move. I don’t blink. I don’t even breathe again until he pulls back enough to look at me.
‘I don’t want to spend the rest of my life wishing it was you, whenever I kiss someone,’ he continues. ‘So, for the avoidance of doubt, in case you’re overthinking things. Cleo – I want you.’
‘I want you too,’ I manage to blurt back with a smile.
Lockie grins back at me, leaning in so close his nose almost brushes mine.
‘So… what do we do about it?’ I ask, hoping he comes to the same conclusion as me.
He searches my face, like he’s making sure we’re on the same page.
‘It could be our last night on earth,’ he points out.
‘It really could,’ I reply. ‘How do you want to spend it?’
I can’t help but bite my lip. That’s the only signal he needs.
He gently cups my face with one hand, his thumb tracing my cheek for a few seconds, like this is my chance to retreat, but there’s no turning back now.
Then he kisses me. It’s not like in the silly challenges or anything we’d do for the cameras; it’s slow, real, and frankly terrifying. I melt into him, wrapping my arms around him, snaking one up his back, into his hair where I can’t resist grabbing it, just a little.
And suddenly everything – and I mean everything – goes quiet inside my head.
No racing thoughts. No panic. No noise at all. All I care about are his lips on mine, and where this might be going next.
I kiss him like I’ve wanted to ever since we met – and all the while I’ve been telling myself I didn’t want to.
Lockie scoops me up and presses me against the cool stone. I wrap my arms and legs around him, like I’m unwilling to let him go. Now that we’re tangled up, I don’t want us to come undone again.
Maybe it’s where we are, or what we’ve been through, or all of it together, but it’s wild.
We can’t get enough of each other, our hands and lips everywhere, things getting more frantic by the second.
The two of us finally getting together feels like the missing piece of the puzzle.
Like I’ve finally found just what I needed.
Eventually, Lockie lies back and exhales deeply. I lie with my head on his chest and listen to his heart thumping in his chest. I swear, it’s louder than the waterfall.
He runs a hand lazily through my hair.
‘If I do die tomorrow, I can’t be too mad,’ he jokes. ‘I went out on a high.’
‘Yeah, I’d rather not die, but I don’t mind that being the last thing I did,’ I reply.
His chest shakes with a quiet laugh. He kisses the top of my head, like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
‘We’d better get back,’ I say, much as I don’t want to. ‘They’ll be wondering where we are – we don’t want them to come looking for us.’
‘It would buy us a little time, to do that again,’ he jokes. ‘But yeah, you’re right.’
Sneaking back to camp feels like being teenagers again, creeping in the moonlight, trying not to make a sound.
It’s much easier on sand than it was on my parents’ creaky staircase.
The others are already asleep, tucked up in their beds together, looking more comfortable for having a few drinks in them.
We slip in beside Ozzy, trying not to make the bed creak. Lockie stifles a laugh against his arm when I lie down with much less grace than I intended.
Settled, we try to sleep, but in the dark his hand finds mine. He squeezes me tightly before relaxing into something comfortable. And then he doesn’t let go.
Who knows what tomorrow will bring? Maybe it will go well, or maybe it will go disastrously. Either way, I don’t know, but I feel happy – happier than I should for someone who is going to take her chances on a raft tomorrow.
I don’t know if we’ll make it off the island, or if we’ll even make it at all, but right now, in this bed, in this moment, with his hand holding mine, I’m not scared.
I’m happy.
Really, properly happy.
And I’m not faking it any more.