27. Ashley
ASHLEY
F ox stayed below until the cat was motoring into the marina, giving me lots of time to overthink our kiss while trying to pretend I was enjoying the company of strangers.
The rest of the meal had been served with an apology for cutting short the cruise. The captain was taking the surfer back to shore so he could get medical attention, in case he had injuries beyond the nasty cut on his leg that Fox cleaned and closed with butterfly bandages.
“We’ll talk to the tour company about compensation. We really appreciate your understanding,” Tala said, offering an extra round of drinks.
I had polished two of the hard lemonades I’d been offered which did nothing to erase the taste of salt and Fox from my lips. Or ease my nerves when Fox finally came above deck.
Was he mad at me? Was our kiss my fault? I could have pulled away at the last second. We had pretty much sworn a blood oath that nothing like that would happen between us and it had barely happened anyway! It was a fluke. Curiosity. He had pulled back before I’d had nearly enough.
I was freaking out over the way he’d pulled away and moved away. His mouth had felt really good, soft and supple and strong and knee-weakeningly hungry. I could have kissed him forever.
I had wanted to, much to my shame. It was a terrible realization to have about a friend. Why had I let it happen? I didn’t want to mess up what we had, either.
Maybe we could pretend it hadn’t happened at all?
“How is he?” I asked, apprehensively searching his eyes for clues to his thoughts.
Fox had his guard up. Way up. His shoulders were like a yoke made of iron. He barely met my gaze before he tracked it restlessly across the water.
“Still spitting seawater, but he’ll be right. He bought a house thinking he could surf straight out his front door. Didn’t ask any locals about rip currents or other hazards.”
“Kook.” I didn’t know everything about surf culture, but I knew what the idiots who failed to recognize their own limits were called, especially when they wrecked everyone else’s fun.
The purse of disgust on Fox’s mouth agreed.
“I said I’d take him to the clinic and drive him home.” Fox’s gaze struck mine for a split-second before he looked away again. “Do you mind taking the shuttle back? Will you be okay going to the villa alone?”
“Of course.” I didn’t want to believe he was volunteering in order to avoid me, but that’s what it felt like, leaving my heart feeling stretched thin.
“He offered me a private heli-tour tomorrow as a thank you.”
“Oh. That’s nice. He’s either really grateful or he’s sizing you up for a kidney.”
“At least he’s being a gentleman and buying me breakfast first.”
I smiled, but it trembled. I couldn’t think of anything witty to add. I couldn’t stop thinking about our kiss. Oh, shoot , I recalled with a thud in my heart. I had to tell him about the photo and the video.
I opened my mouth, but Fox said, “He, uh, saw us...” His flinty gaze touched my cheek and ear. “You’re invited. On the heli-tour.”
My insides did a lift and swoop as if we’d crested a particularly rough wave, even though we were moving very slowly in the sheltered waters of the marina.
Whatever he read in my eyes made his expression turn cautious.
Keep it casual , I reminded myself with mild panic. Friends .
“Do I want a free aerial view of the island? Who wouldn’t?” Hard to get into too much trouble wearing seatbelts and shouting over the drumming noise of a helicopter. “Unless you’d rather go alone. Is he the pilot? Because…”
“No.” The corners of his mouth deepened. “He owns the chopper, though. Sounds like he has one of everything.”
“How is he so rich?” I glanced over my shoulder, but the surfer was still below. “Is he famous? Why didn’t anyone recognize him?”
“He sold an app,” Fox said dryly.
“How is that still a thing? Was it an app for making apps? Because I feel like everything else has been invented by now. And is that what buys you a mansion with a private beach? You and I have to put on our thinking caps so we can buy a house on a beach.”
It was our usual, garden-variety banter, but it landed like a fart in an elevator when he said, “I have one.”
“Right. Forgot.” I was forgetting a lot of things, most especially that I’d been engaged his best friend, the man who owned that house with him. That’s why I wasn’t supposed to suck Fox’s face.
My stomach cramped and I stared blindly at the boats we were passing as we closed in on the slip.
“Ash—”
“There’s a picture,” I blurted while keeping my voice low.
“Of?” he asked with dread.
“Us. And a video.”
“Fair dinkum?” He pivoted to face me, saying in a quiet hiss, “It lasted five seconds.”
Definitely wasn’t happy about our kiss. I held up a hand and he swung back to the rail. His jaw muscle pulsed and his biceps flexed.
“There’s no video of that. Margorie, the older lady, took a snap of us—” I glanced over my shoulder. “ Hugging .”
It wasn’t a hug. It looked like the cover of a romance novel, him shirtless and dappled with beads of water, me clutching at him, hair windswept, my expression all limpid and smoldering as I looked up at him.
“I don’t know if she’ll post it.” Margorie had promised to send it to me, though. “The mom with her hair in a bun? She filmed the rescue. That’s definitely getting uploaded. She was already trying to do it, but we were out of range. I thought about saying T&B might pay her for it, but if she knew she might get more traction by tagging Shane...” It had been a tough call. “I got her details.”
“How does it look?” Fox asked uneasily.
“Honestly? Really dramatic and exciting. Everyone is sounding all worried, then they cheer when you get him. I wouldn’t be surprised if it gets picked up by some networks. You should capitalize on it.” I wrinkled my nose, already knowing he would hate that idea. Shane was the face of the company. Fox liked his role behind the scenes.
He grimaced. “I’ll get so much blowback on the safety side.”
“You will. That’s why it has viral potential. Everyone will have an opinion. You might even wind up with your very own troll.”
“Lucky me.”
“The price of success, my friend.” I faltered in lifting a hand to pat his arm. That word felt as though it was made of sharp edges as it lingered on my tongue. I dropped my hand back to my side, but pressed on with my attempt to pretend that’s all we were. “Instead of Shane Says, you could call it Fox Freaks.”
“You’ve had time to think about it and that’s the best you could come up with?”
“Feats? Frolics? Doesn’t have the same ring of urgency. Or insanity.”
His choke of humor was laden with self-disgust.
“I need my ass kicked for being so reckless.” He ran a hand over his hair, started to say something else, then pinned his mouth shut. His nostrils flared and his brows lowered with dismay.
We’d both done something reckless.
As the catamaran engine finally cut off, my stomach churned with worry that we’d made a huge mistake. The kind that couldn’t be undone.