Chapter 7 Sienna
SEVEN
SIENNA
Well, this was an epic failure. Last night, when the itch to work almost overtook me, when I was struggling to just be, I booked this snorkeling trip. This morning, when I found out that Noah was switching rooms, I felt like the earth was going to swallow me whole.
Or maybe I wished it would.
Because a woman knows when a man wants her, and it’s clear as day that Noah does not want me. So much so that he’s given up a beautiful villa to get away from me. So that I won’t bother him? Is that it? So that I don’t throw myself at him and beg him to spend time with me?
Yes, I flirted last night, but did I go too far? Did I miss some sign that he wasn’t interested?
I don’t have the first clue, and now here we are, on the same catamaran. He probably thinks I followed him on this snorkeling trip. Especially if the you again he greeted me with is anything to go by.
Maybe while we’re out here, a whale will swallow me whole. Or maybe there’s a life raft nearby, and I can drift off to sea.
While I wait for either opportunity to arise, I do what any properly chastised girl would do and relegate myself to the corner of the catamaran, away from Noah, away from the crowd and the drinks and the dancing.
So much for distractions. I might as well be on my deck by myself, because it’s just as easy to freak out about Paris here as it was there. The show too, and my impending move. How I’ll be halfway around the world all by myself for the first time in my life.
No, instead, that’s all I can think about.
That and Noah. He’s probably groaning to everyone about the desperate young girl who won’t leave him alone.
Gah, this is embarrassing.
“Sienna,” Eddy sings as he bounces onto the netting beside me.
I paste on a grin and slide my glasses up, giving the flirty tour guide my full attention. The man’s muscles have muscles. He’s a delicious specimen, and I can’t help but preen when he discreetly checks me out.
“We’ve got a half hour until the first stop. Would you like another punch?”
I hold up the drink he made for me a few minutes ago, which is still pretty full. “I think I’m good for now.” Though in this heat, I will eventually want another.
His eyes wander, maybe a little too brazenly this time, reminding me that in my celebratory my brothers aren’t coming on vacation packing, I didn’t bring a single suit that covers my ass.
This one is a hot pink string bikini. And when I say string, I mean it’s truly nothing but a lot of strings and the smallest bits of fabric. Whoops.
“The sun is very strong down here. Did you put on sunscreen?”
I did properly sunscreen my body before I left my villa. I’m twenty-four, not sixteen. But I can picture what it will look like from where Noah is standing if I tell sweet Eddy that I missed a spot. And after the shit Noah has pulled, I’m feeling like a petty bitch.
If he doesn’t want to see me, then he’ll look away.
But even after all the signs he’s thrown out, I have an inkling that it isn’t so much that he doesn’t find me attractive as it is that he can’t make up his mind.
And on this boat, surrounded by a crowd of people who are much older than we are—and Eddy, of course—his focus will be easily caught.
So I dig into my bag, pluck out the lotion, and hand it to Eddy. Then, propping myself up on my knees, I ensure I’m providing Noah with the perfect view of my sweet cheeks.
The man beside me hisses, then curses under his breath, but from the heat burning into my back from the attention focused there, he’s not the only one feeling that way.
When Eddy is finished lathering my shoulders and back, I take the bottle and thank him. “How long have you worked here?” I ask as I settle back into my spot on my towel.
He crosses his legs, resting his forearms on his knees and lacing his fingers, and tells me how he’s been with the tour company for a year.
He’s polite, making sure to ask me about my job too, but I gloss over the specifics and turn the conversation back to him.
By the time we arrive at the first stop, I’ve learned that he was raised by a single mom and has two sisters, and on his nights off, he loves to dance.
He jumps up with ease, going from sitting to standing in one move, and holds out a hand to me. “Let’s get you a mask and flippers.”
I polish off the last of my drink, then let him help me up. Though I’m not the teensiest bit tipsy, my feet get caught in the netting and I lose my balance. Just as I’m certain I’m going down, Noah appears, stopping my fall.
He loops an arm around my waist and pulls me against his chest, then eases me onto my feet. “You okay?” he asks, his brows furrowed.
Annoyed, but well-practiced in the art of not letting such negative reactions show, I suck in a breath and nod. “Yes, thank you.”
His body is so much bigger than mine. His one arm wraps almost completely around my waist, his large hand practically touching my back.
Like this, with his forearm draped across my torso, his olive skin looks incredible against mine. I never hold a tan. My skin is always this creamy color. Though fortunately, I rarely burn.
He sucks in a quick breath, his chest expanding, and when I tip my head back to make sure he’s okay, I get caught on the most beautiful pair of eyes. Fuck, that was a bad idea. They’re endless, beguiling. The sparkling ocean surrounding us has nothing on their blue depths.
I may be drowning in the Caribbean pools, but he’s locked in on the space between us.
Only then do I notice the way my practically bare ass is tucked up tight against his board shorts.
It’s his fault, really, because he’s the one who caught me and pulled me in. Because he’s the one who hasn’t let go.
But he doesn’t step away, and neither do I.
I could say it’s because I’m not quite steady on this netting, but that’d be a lie, and if I can’t be honest in my own head, what’s the point?
I like the feel of him against me. I like how his lips have fallen open and he’s trying to breathe without making it obvious how hard he’s working for that simple necessity.
And I really like the sensation of his arousal against the globes of my ass.
It’s proof that I’m not alone in this moment.
He wants me. Maybe he doesn’t want to want me, but there’s no denying he does.
“I’ve got flippers.” Eddy’s voice pulls me from my thoughts, but it’s the loss of this man’s touch that sends me teetering forward again. Shocked. Stupid.
He grips my thigh, his movement just as quick as the last, and sucks in another exaggerated breath. “Why don’t you get off the netting?”
I laugh lightly, maintaining an unbothered appearance. “Right. Thank you.”
He steps back, keeping his arm outstretched so I can use it for support as I climb onto the solid teak surface.
“Come on, Noah. Last person in is a rotten egg,” one of the men I met on the deck this morning—the rounder one, with the bald head—calls. Then he catapults himself off the side of the boat and tucks his legs, cannonball style, creating an enormous splash.
The other man shakes his head and points at the water. “Your goggles.”
“Sienna,” Eddy says, cradling my elbow. “Let me get everyone set up, and then I’ll go in with you.” He holds out the flippers he fetched for me. “Everyone must have a buddy. And don’t swim too far from the boat.”
“I’ll go with her.” Noah reaches into the bucket of goggles at Eddy’s feet and plucks a set out, shaking off another pair that’s tangled around them.
He turns toward me, but instead of handing them to me like I expect, he steps close, loops the strap around his wrist and uses both hands to push my hair behind my ears.
I can’t help but stare at his lips, one of which he has caught between his teeth. He drags his hands down my jaw, his thumbs brushing over my cheeks, the blue of his irises suddenly stormy.
The warm air crackles between us, and my pulse picks up. Is he going to kiss me? And if so, what would those lips feel like? What would he taste like if he pressed his mouth to mine?
Between one heartbeat and the next, his hands are gone and he’s pulling back. He holds up the goggles, and when I nod, he fits them over my head and adjusts them on my face.
When I reach up to tighten them, he shakes his head. It’s the tiniest of movements. Then, with his tongue in his cheek, he tightens each side.
“This okay?” he asks.
I’m beginning to hate that question, because I swear every time he asks, his next move is to pull back. Despite that, the simple words light me up inside. The check-ins are as endearing as they are sexy. He’s clearly a guy who thrives on consent.
Heat swirls in my core at the thought, and my nipples pebble.
Shit.
Why the hell did I let my mind wander there?
I have to step back. I have to get away from his heady scent and that mouth. It’s too damn expressive, his thoughts written all over it rather than in his eyes. Biting down when he’s apprehensive, licking his lips when he’s turned on, the corners tipped up when he’s surprised to find himself happy.
I barely know him, and already I see so much.
And he’s made a point of putting space between us.
Clearing my throat, I give him a nod. And with a quick thanks, I take my flippers to the edge of the boat where a ladder is located.
Like any stubborn younger sister to a whole slew of boys would, I don’t wait for him or Eddy.
I slip the flippers onto my feet and drop into the water.
The cool temperature is as much a shock as it is refreshing, and when I surface, I can’t help but smile.
I can’t remember the last time I did something like this.
Joining a tour with people I don’t know.
Spending the day on a boat that isn’t private.
The thought makes me stupidly giddy and defiant and free.
I tip forward, kicking my feet, and put my face in the water to confirm my goggles won’t leak and that my snorkel is clear.
Rather than coming right back up, I’m sidetracked by the kaleidoscope of color beneath me.
Orange and deep blue fish with the prettiest black and white fins dart below me.
I drift, enraptured, until I catch sight of a reef only a few feet away.
With excitement coursing through me, I kick my way over to it, taking in the variety of fish and sea creatures.
The sight is incredible. The colors, the beauty, the whole world that exists beneath the surface.
This is why people should snorkel in pairs, not just for safety, but because right now, I wish I could share this with someone.
I’ve always hoped to one day fall in love, but I’ve never truly craved a relationship.
But as I note a starfish close by, I get it.
This is the kind of moment that I want to share with someone. It’s an experience to look back on.
A fish peeks out of a cavernous cave within the reef, and when my shadow passes over it, its body puffs wide. I gasp, the sound strange in my ears. I’m practically giddy at the sight.
When there’s a tap on my shoulder, I turn and find Noah’s goggled face beside mine. My instinct is to smile at the gorgeous man, but before I can end up with a mouthful of saltwater, I school the expression and give him a thumbs-up.
He grasps my hand and tugs me forward, and we spend the next twenty minutes pointing out the fish and coral we see, each prettier and more exciting than the last. As the minutes go by, I’m not sure if it’s the bright tropical fish or Noah’s firm hand in mine that makes me feel lighter than I have in a long time.