Not Up for Debate

16. Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Sixteen

Now

I stretch my arms above my head and sink my head deeper into the soft pillow. I’m so glad I’m waking up in a bed right now and not on the floor.

My eyes open and find the room full of warm sunlight and the smell of briny saltwater in the air. I fell asleep last night with the balcony door open so I could let the sound of the ocean waves lull me to sleep. It was a fantastic choice, if I do say so myself.

The rest of my night was both uneventful and exciting at the same time. Well, maybe most people wouldn’t call it exciting, but it was exactly what I needed. After turning off my phone to avoid any more unavoidable texts thrown my way, I moved aside my shopping bags and plopped myself onto the bed.

I ordered room service and binged the trashiest of reality TV shows until my eyes couldn’t stay open any longer. The best part of the night though, was the dessert—-pineapple cheesecake, a mocha brownie, and a triple berry cobbler. For the life of me, I couldn’t decide what sounded better, so I got them all. Never once did I regret my decision.

As soon as the desserts were laid out in front of me, I’m not ashamed to say that, I may have acted like a judge on one of those famous baking shows.

First, I inspected their beautiful presentation, then I took a not-so-bite-sized piece of each. Holy hell, they were delicious. After all the judges' scores were tallied, it was clear that the brownie was going to be the winner of the night. I scarfed it down faster than I care to admit, then put the other two remaining desserts in the mini fridge to eat for breakfast.

You can think what you want, but I happen to be a firm believer that while on vacation, you can do whatever you want. You want to eat two desserts for breakfast? Go for it! You want to spend copious amounts of money on fabulous new lingerie, swimsuits, and clothes? Do it! You want to stick with kale and avocados to meet your fitness goals? You go girl! When in Rome and all that.

A big yawn escapes my mouth and all this thinking about dessert has my stomach growling. I open the mini fridge and both remaining desserts sit there staring at me.

I choose the cheesecake and move back over to my spot on the bed. I spear a piece of the pineapple on my fork and pop it into my mouth. I don’t know how it’s possible, but it tastes even better today.

Licking my spoon clean, I glance at the clock on the nightstand. Shit, I only have half an hour before I need to be at the boat.

I get up from the bed to rummage around my luggage and new shopping bags. I have to find exactly the right thing to wear.

I’m embarrassed to say that yesterday the soft Hawaiian breeze convinced me that I needed to buy three new bikinis. My brain knew I brought two in my suitcase, but my heart was listening to what Hawaii wanted. What can I say, Hawaii brought the fight and Hawaii won.

Quickly putting on the top of one new suit and the bottom of another, I stare intently at the third option lying on my bed. No one ever tells you what to wear when you go snorkeling. Or maybe they do, but Noah Riley sure doesn’t.

I peel off the mismatched suit and slip on the third. Hot damn, this is the one. Of course, it also happens to be the one I debated returning right after I bought it because of the hefty price tag. But alas, it’s the one that hugs my body most and the all-white color shows off my also new spray tan.

I rip off the tags, tie a cute little sheer white wrap skirt around my hips, and finish getting ready.

On my way down to the pier, I begin ruminating over possible scenarios on how this day could go. I’ve always wanted to go snorkeling, but never in a million years did I think I would be going with the person in the world that I dislike most.

There is one benefit to it though. Since we’re underwater, we won’t have to talk to each other. Which is good, because talking with Noah is where all hell breaks loose. My mind gets all turned inside out and my words don’t come out right. I guess another possible benefit is that he could drown and then be out of my life for good. Yikes, Jane that’s morbid.

“Hi, Boss.” I hear from my left. “When did you get the Danny Devito tattoo?”

Drown the man.

“Ha very funny.” I roll my eyes. “This bruise was given to me by an inconveniently placed coffee table in my room. It was dark, and I tripped over my bag. The corner of the table got me.”

“Ouch, that sucks. What were you doing roaming around in the dark?” He asks, not breaking his stride.

“Not looking to get a giant bruise shaped like Danny Devito, I’ll tell you that much.”

We reach our boat, and the other hopeful snorkelers are gathered around, waiting to board. I feel him stop right behind me.

Honestly, can’t he go stand somewhere else? I fold my arms across my chest and tap my foot in annoyance. It’s hard to pay attention to the instructor’s speech about the dos and don'ts of snorkeling when I can feel Noah’s presence pulsing behind me. It’s like there’s a fly buzzing around in the room. The constant invisible buzz is irritating and distracting.

The air around me changes as I hear his breath come close to my ear. The hairs on the back of my neck stand up as he bends down and whispers, “By the way, I like your suit.”

My entire body erupts with tiny little goosebumps. I suddenly feel overly exposed. Memories of the first time he said these words to me flood into my head. I’m transported back to being seventeen at the lake, surrounded by other teenagers, and feeling extremely self-conscious in my ugly one-piece swimsuit.

My face feels hot as I continue staring forward. I don’t know what to say. Does he really like this suit or is he just being an ass again? “Oh…um, thanks. I’ve had it forever. I don’t even really like it anymore. I was actually thinking about getting rid of it.” Well, that’s not true. Why does he make me do this? I bring my hand up to play with my necklace, hoping to hide the flush creeping up my neck.

A brief minute passes with neither of us talking. I wait for him to say something, anything, but it appears he’s finished with our conversation.

I breathe out a sigh of relief. Then, I feel the warmth of his body press into my back. His muscles tense behind me as he bends his head down, inching closer to my level. The heat of his breath tickles my ear as he quietly whispers, “That’s fine. I like you better in the little red one anyway.”

Apparently, Wednesday mornings are the least busy time to go snorkeling because our boat isn’t nearly as full as I would have expected. The flat-decked boat isn’t very big, but there is more than enough room for everyone to find a nice place to sit. A cute couple situates themselves in the rear corner, and a pleasantly plump elderly woman sits in the front chatting the ear off a middle-aged single dad who’s here with his two sons. I’m not sure where Noah is, but at least he isn’t by me.

I take my seat in the middle of the boat and stare out at the blinding sunshine reflecting off the turquoise water. I can sense everyone’s growing excitement as our boat pulls away from the pier. As we gain speed, the salty spray mists my face, and the warm sun beats down on my skin.

Everything about this whole moment screams perfection, but I can feel a part of myself that’s not willing to let go. That part of myself keeps replaying the sentence Noah murmured into my ear. What did he mean when he said that? I like you better in the little red one anyway. The words are obviously clear, but I don’t know what they could mean coming from him .

I hear his laugh before I see him. Noah is unsteadily making his way in my direction with a crew member following close behind him.

Straightening myself, I pretend not to notice, although my heart starts to pick up pace.

“Thanks, Zeke, I’m sure sitting here will help with the motion sickness.” He plops his butt down on the bench seat right next to me and rests his arm on the cushion behind my head.

“No problem, my friend. Sometimes it takes a while to get your sea legs.” Zeke crouches down and gently moves my feet to the side. He reaches under my seat and takes out a small trash can. “We just ask that if you do vomit, you either do it in this or off the side of the boat.” Zeke laughs. “The fish would enjoy some extra lunch anyway.” He pats Noah on the shoulder and retreats to the back of the boat.

“Don’t you dare throw up on me,” I say, picking up his heavy arm from behind me and dropping it onto his lap.

“Oh, don’t worry, I already feel much better,” he says, setting the trash can aside.

“That was fast,” I say with a sideways glance, not at all believing his sordid tales of motion sickness.

“So, are you excited to go snorkeling?” He asks, placing his arm back behind my head.

My eyes narrow on him. Is he seriously going to pretend like his body—his hard body— wasn’t just pressed up against my back while whispering very hot and very confusing things into my ear?

“When Howard called me yesterday to tell me he booked this trip for us, I was so fired up. I’ve always wanted to go snorkeling,” Noah continues.

Yep, he’s definitely ignoring that anything happened. Okay, then. Two can play at that game.

I turn my body to face him as much as I can, but since we’re sitting on the same bench seat, it doesn’t take much before our knees press together. I shouldn’t have butterflies, I shouldn’t be feeling this way right now. I’m hyper-aware of that small part of my body touching his. Actually, that’s the only thing I’m aware of right now. Every other thought is out the window—gone like smoke in the wind. That little touch is like an itch I need to scratch. I see him glance down at our touching knees and from the look in his eyes, I sense that he feels it too.

I watch as the loose fabric of his linen shirt dances with the breeze of our moving boat. The top two buttons are undone, and parts of his toned chest peak through from underneath. His shoulders are relaxed, and his face is… happy. He’s perfect.

I want so badly for this to be easy. I want to be able to let go, to have a simple, friendly conversation with him. But I just can’t. He broke my heart once, and it feels impossible to forget that fact. It’s especially hard when he makes stupid comments like he did earlier. It’s so unfair.

My brows knit together, and he looks at me with concern. “You okay, Robins? Do you need this?” He thrusts the trash can into my lap.

Here it is. This is my in. The way we can talk, the only way we know how to talk, is to bicker. I can argue and debate with him until the cows come home. This is how it works for us. Here we go.

“I’m fine. I was just thinking about whether I’m excited to be snorkeling or not.” I turn away from his gaze as I make this brutally untrue statement. In reality, I’m so freaking excited. I’m genuinely thrilled to check something off my bucket list, but that unavoidable urge to compete with him always bubbles up to the surface. “I mean, it’s awesome to see all the stunning marine life, but you can’t dispute the fact that it’s extremely unethical.”

“Wait, what? Where did you hear that from?” He scoffs.

“Basically everyone.” Ouch, Jane . What a terrible argument. I’m an attorney, but I just used the equivalent of a child sticking their tongue out at you.

“Ah, everyone . Sounds plausible.” He raises his eyebrows. “Really, what makes you think that snorkeling is extremely unethical, as you put it?”

A few years ago, I went on a marine biology kick and absorbed anything and everything I could about the topic. I read countless books and watched some outstanding documentaries about controversies surrounding snorkeling and scuba diving. Some argue that regularly invading these natural ecosystems negatively impacts the animals and organisms there. While others insist that these practices, if done properly, are actually beneficial. I know this, but am I going to let Noah in on this knowledge? Nah, not right now. I want to see where we can get with this. Let the debate begin.

“Okay, let’s start with the coral. Did you know that coral is one of the most diverse ecosystems in the entire world? There are so many different types of animals that depend on coral for their survival. Even some groups of people rely on coral reefs for their livelihood, their jobs, for their food, etc…And when stupid people come in and mess it all up in the name of a ‘good time,’ it affects everything.”

Noah’s face doesn’t show any indication of whether or not he’s heard anything I just said. He just continues staring at me, so I continue with my arguments.

“Another thing we have to think about is the mass amounts of people these experiences draw in. More people equals more things that could go wrong. There are so many instances where some uneducated snorkeler will touch the animals when they shouldn’t, or feed them, or heaven forbid, even take them out of the water entirely, and each of these things cause such a disturbance in the natural behaviors of the reef. It’s terrible. Sometimes people are meant to stay away from things we don’t understand,” I say, shrugging my shoulders.

He pulls in a breath and folds his arms across his chest.“But there are many people who do understand them. To be fair, they wouldn’t understand them at all if they didn’t go snorkeling or diving in the first place, right?” He says, slightly agitated.

“Okay, Noah, so you’re saying that just because some people are educated enough or have trained their entire lives to research and experiment on marine life, that means anyone and their dog should be able to disturb the precious habitat whenever they want to?” I cock my head, and raise a brow.

“No, of course not. The point I was trying to make is that since there are people who, as you pointed out, work their entire lives examining the underwater environment, we rely on them to guide us in the right direction when we want to take part in the experience. We follow their rules and use best practices, which ensures the safety of marine life and minimizes the human impact on the delicate ecosystem.” He sits up straighter, which takes away his knee from touching mine. The sudden absence of it feels strange.

Trying to distract myself from his missing touch, I sit up straighter in my seat as well. “Do you really think people on vacation, just wanting to snorkel for a good time, actually listen to what the experts say?”

“Yes. Majority do. These excursions exist to bring awareness of the reef’s importance to the native population. When people come to have these experiences, it draws more attention, more mindfulness, and more funding to the reef. All of this is aimed at the actual problems that these habitats face. Sure, sometimes there will be stupid people who do stupid things, but the overwhelming benefit they have for preventing damage and bringing awareness significantly outweighs the few things that stupid people do.”

Damn. He’s right.

He’s staring at me, waiting for my rebuttal. My mind is scrambling to find something to say, but nothing comes. He wins—again.

“Regardless,” he continues, “I don’t care what anyone says, if I see a clownfish, I’m bringing it home.” His mouth twitches up in a smile.

“Did Finding Nemo teach you nothing?” I say to him, feigning offense.

“Nope.” His knee finds its place touching mine once more, and this time, neither of us moves away.

The couple sitting in the back of the boat, starts to make their way up to the middle and sit down opposite us. They’re both so young and gorgeous it’s hard to look away. The woman has on a cute little yellow bikini, and her long brunette hair falls down her back in big loose curls. While her sandy blond, tall, beefy husband looks like he could pick her up with one finger.

“Hi! I’m Lauren! This is my husband, Justin.” Her heavy Southern accent is not what I was expecting. “We got so bored alone in the back of the boat. We decided to come see what’s happening up here! Are y’all married too?”

The answer rushes out of my mouth like a dam letting loose. “No, we are not married. Definitely not married, we’re not even friends, really.” I see both Lauren and Justin’s eyes glance down at our touching knees.

They quickly bring their eyes back up and smile in unison. “Well, we are! We were hitched just four days ago.” She brings her left hand up to her face and wiggles her fingers, showing off her giant diamond. “We’re on our honeymoon. I’m so excited to be here. I’ve never dreamed of doing anything like this before, I’ve never even seen the ocean besides in movies. I’m from a teeny tiny town in southern Alabama, so all this here is just so exotic that I can hardly believe it. I’ve never been snorkeling before. I don’t even really know what it’s all about. Justin here planned everything, so I’m just along for the ride.” She beams with pride as she looks at him. “I’m mostly excited to see a snorkel. What are they like?”

“What?” Justin asks, staring at his new wife, utter confusion written all over his face.

“I’ve never seen a real live snorkel before. I don’t know what they look like,” she says with such childlike amazement that our shock feels unwarranted.

“Lauren…” Justin starts slowly, “what do you think snorkeling is?” He gently puts his hand on her thigh.

She stares at him happily, still wearing that great big Southern smile. “It’s like whaling right? My aunt Tilly went whaling once in Alaska and she got to see a bunch of whales.”

Noah covers his laugh with a cough, and I bite my lip, trying to stifle my own.

“Honey,” Justin starts, “snorkels aren’t fish. They’re the tube thing we breathe through when we’re underwater.”

Lauren’s eyes grow wide, and her perfect little nose crinkles. I think she’s about to cry, but instead, she lets loose the biggest laugh I’ve ever heard. “Are you kidding me? This whole time I thought we were going to be looking at some little crazy fish called a snorkel, and you’re telling me that a snorkel isn’t even a fish at all?” She throws her head back, laughing harder.

Once he saw that his wife wasn’t crushed by her newfound information, Justin let his own laugh burst through.

That gives Noah and I permission to do the same. All four of us laugh heartily together as Lauren shakes her head and repeats in joyful amazement, “A snorkel isn’t a fish.”

When we reach our destination, the water is the perfect temperature. My body feels weightless as I float on the surface of the brilliantly blue water. My goggles are crystal clear, and it only takes me a minute to get the hang of breathing through the snorkel.

The magic I see under the water is unlike anything else I’ve ever experienced. The rough coral looks like a cityscape as vibrant fish swim in and out of the various structures. I take a deep breath and dive down. The water gets cooler the farther down I go, and the sereneness I felt on the surface is amplified the deeper I get. It’s not exactly silent, but it’s quiet. It’s calming.

Resurfacing, I take of my goggles, and deeply inhale the sweet ocean air. I feel a sting in my nose as I float up and down in the water. Feeling overwhelmed with so much peace and happiness, tears begin to run down my cheeks. I’m basically full-on sobbing when I hear Noah swimming toward me.

“Robins, don’t tell me you’re crying because you already killed a fish.” He laughs.

“I’m fine, Noah. Go away.” I replace my goggles, hoping they will mask the full extent of my crying. “And no. I didn’t kill a fish. I’m not the one who’s willing to break the rules if they see a Nemo, remember?”

“Hey, I told you that in confidence. I thought we could go in on it together. You know, like partners in crime?” He circles around me, and we end up face to face.

I stretch my goggles and rest them on the top of my head. “Besides, I don’t think they live in Hawaii anyway, so it looks like you’re off the hook.” He bobs up and down in time with the waves. It doesn’t seem possible that such a large man could float with such ease, but I guess he’s proof. “Hey, did you see the humuhumunukunukuāpua?a?”

“What? The hoo moo koo noo what now?”

“Ha, the humuhumunukunukuāpua?a. It just swam over by that rock. It’s Hawaii’s state fish. It’s pretty cool.”

“State fish? May I ask how you happen to know what Hawaii’s state fish is? Do other states have state fish?” I poke.

“Yes, almost every state has a state fish.” He smiles, and I can tell he’s quite pleased with himself.

“Okay then, what’s the state fish of Colorado?”

“Please, Jane. Don’t treat me like a child.” He scoffs.

“Oh, so you don’t know. That’s fine.” I shrug my shoulders and turn to swim away.

The boyhood pride takes over his face as he says, “I’ve known the Colorado state fish since I was three years old, thank you very much. The greenback cutthroat trout are super hard to catch because they hang out under the ice most of the time, but I caught a handful of them myself before I moved to New York.”

“Okay, fish boy,” I say, facing him again. “What’s the state fish of Rhode Island?” I see the gears moving in his mind as he starts to think about this question.

His mouth twitches before blooming into an adorable lopsided grin. “The striped bass.”

“Oh, good Lord, you’re a nerd.”

He laughs. “Ha, I am not! I just like fish.”

“Exactly. Nerd. Are fish your favorite animals?”

“Maybe yes, maybe no. What’s it to you?”

“Nothing at all. I was just trying to have a friendly conversation for once.” I float on my back and look up at the cloudless sky.

“He swims toward my head. “Okay, that sounds nice, I’ll play. My favorite animal is actually a mouse.”

Water washes up my nose, and I think I’m about to drown. After my small coughing fit, I look at Noah through stinging eyes. He’s seemingly undisturbed and maybe even a little smug. “A mouse? Noah, you’re joking.”

“Oh, I don’t joke , Robins,” he says, attempting to appear stoic.

“Your favorite animal is a mouse?”

“Yep. No one likes them, so I do.”

“Gosh, Noah. You get weirder and weirder every time I talk to you.”

“Okay, Jane, what’s your favorite animal then?”

“A dog. Like a normal person.”

We bob in the water, both of us with smiles on our faces. This feels good.

“Okay, next one,” he says, “What’s your favorite food?”

“Easy. A brownie.”

“That’s a dessert, Robins, not food.”

“Prove it,” I say, my turn to be smug. “I happen to know that it’s the best food that exists in the entire world. It’s warm, gooey, and chocolatey. Basically the holy trinity. What more could you need? You can eat it for breakfast, lunch, or dinner. It’s far superior to any other food there is.”

“Are you done?”

“Shut up, I’m making a point.”

“Oh…I see your point. You’re an insane person who thinks that eating a brownie for breakfast is alright.”

“Not only is it alright, it’s heavily encouraged,” I say, and he chortles, shaking his head. “My turn.” I try to think of a question. “Um…Do you have a nickname?”

“Nope. Just been Noah since the day I was born. My dad always loved the name, but my mom hated it. Said she thought I’d turn out to be a crazy animal lover with a name like Noah, you know, because of the namesake and all that.”

“Well, you do love mice…so maybe she had a right to be worried?”

He lightly splashes the water into my face. “What about you? Any nicknames?”

“What, you mean besides Robins, Boss, or let’s see…what else have you called me?” I bring my finger to my chin, pretending to think.

“What can I say, Robins, I have a knack for it.” He pauses and rakes his hand through his wet hair. “But really, do you have a nickname?”

“Yeah.” My lungs fill with salty air as I take a deep breath in. “My Nan called me ‘Bird.’” Memories of my favorite person fill my head, and those tears from earlier threaten to return. I turn away embarrassed that my emotions turned so quickly. She’s been gone for a few years now, but it’s still hard.

“Let me guess, she calls you Bird because your last name is Robins?” He says, trying to bring me back. “Seems like we had the same idea. She’s one smart lady.” I hear the smile in his voice, begging me to turn back around.

“Yeah. She was .” I wipe my eyes and turn to face him again. “She passed away a few years back. She was really, really great. Taught me a lot about the world, made me feel safe. So, that nickname means a lot to me. It’s like my own little magic word for feeling loved.” I pause, feeling vulnerable. I’ve just revealed too much. “Sorry, woah, that got heavy…” I let out a pathetic attempt at a laugh.

“She sounds wonderful, Jane. I’m sorry you lost her.” I see the earnestness in his eyes, and my heart starts to warm.

“Me too.”

We float in heavy silence, both lost in our heads. After a moment, his eyes grow wide as he slaps the water with his hand. “Okay, I’ve got it. It’s not a nickname, but I will tell you my very…very unfortunate middle name. But, if you tell anyone, Robins, I will have to kill you.”

“Oh, come on. It can’t be that bad.”

“Horace.”

“Excuse you.”

He laughs. “I told you it was bad.”

“Horace? Noah Horace Riley? Woof, that is rough.”

“Right? My mom said since she didn’t get to pick my first name, she got to pick my middle name.”

“And she picked Horace?!”

“Yeah, it was her grandpa’s name. Poor guy.”

Just then, the captain calls for all the snorkelers to return to the boat for the trip back to the island. We look at each other. There’s something in the air between us now. It feels both old and new at the same time. I don’t know exactly how or why it feels so different, but it’s definitely here. It changed; and it changed fast. I can sense that neither of us want to leave.

The captain whistles again, breaking the spell.

“After you, Horace,” I say, casually motioning with my hand.

He rushes toward me and playfully pushes my head underwater.

I come up gasping for air.

“I warned you, Robins,” he says, racing toward the boat.

My hair whips around my face as the boat heads back toward civilization. I shift around in my seat and feel the tightness from the saltwater drying on my skin. I lean my head back, the heat of the bright sun beating down on my face.

The two small boys and their dad are regaling each other with tales from their adventure. The younger boy is buzzing with excitement as he exclaims to his dad that a sea turtle swam right up to him. “Dad! I’m not even kidding! He almost bit my finger off! He came right up to me, and I could tell that he thought my finger was, like, a baby carrot or something! So, I just put my hands in my life jacket, and he swam right away! Like I took his lunch, Dad! It was so funny.” His little-boy enthusiasm and laughter fill the boat. I hear Noah laugh along as the family continues with their stories.

Lauren and Justin are once again sitting at the back of the boat, her head resting on his lap. Justin gazes out over the water as he lazily plays with her hair. Periodically, I see him turn his attention on his sleeping wife, and I can see that his face is full of love and contentment. What a feeling that would be. To feel so comfortable and in love.

A warm feeling blooms in the center of my chest at the hope of it. I haven’t had much luck in the love department so far, but at least I’m still hopeful about it. Even if I’m in my sixties when love finally knocks at my door, the wait would be worth it.

I look at Noah sitting across from me on the opposite side of the boat. His head is leaned back and his eyes are closed to the hot sun up above. A small smile is still playing on the edges of his lips.

My next inhale is shaky and goosebumps roll across my skin. I don’t know why or how he’s able to do the things he does to me, but it’s becoming harder and harder to ignore.

We get to the pier and begin disembarking. The dad and two boys are off first, followed by Lauren, Justin, and some of the crew members. I’m still gathering my things when I see Noah helping the elderly lady up from her spot at the front of the boat. I linger behind a bit, watching their interaction. “I didn’t go on this trip to actually go snorkeling. Heavens no. I was just in it for the boat ride! Ha! Could you imagine this old bat squeezing into a bathing suit? Nope. Not at my age. I told Clyde, I said, Clyde I’m going to go on a boat ride. I’ll be back when I’m back! And he said that he’ll probably be sitting in the same place on the beach when I return.” She slowly slips her feet into her sandals.

“When you’ve been together for fifty years, you can do that, you know. Just leave each other to do things you want to do, and then just come back together when you’re done. That’s one thing I like about getting old. It’s not all good, but that part is.” One of her hands is resting in Noah’s, while his other hand is on her back, helping keep her steady on the rocking boat.

“Well, Evelyn, I hope that one day I get to experience that myself.”

My heart constricts at hearing this. Hearing his hope for the future.

“Oh, you will, dear boy. Anyone that has a mug like you doesn’t have to worry about finding love at all.”

I see Noah’s eyes fall briefly, but then quickly recover. He smiles as he says, “You think I have a nice mug, Evelyn?”

I let out a quiet laugh.

“Don’t kid yourself, son. You’re good-looking and you know it.” She hits his hand gently. “To be honest, I didn’t even need your help getting up from my seat. But when I saw you coming my way, I thought, what the hell, it’s not every day you get to walk arm in arm with a handsome young man.” They both laugh in unison.

“Oh, Evelyn, I would walk arm in arm with you any day.” They reach the bottom step, and I see an older man, whom I assume is Clyde, striding happily toward his wife.

“Hello, my Dear.” His voice is low and gruff but full of affection.

“Hello, Sweetheart. This kind young man was just helping your fat, old wife off the boat.”

Clyde laughs. “Thank you—”

“Horace,” Noah interjects as they shake hands.

“Horace? Now that’s not a name you hear every day,” Clyde says, eyebrows raised.

The corner of Noah's mouth lifts up into a smile. “No, it’s not.” He chuckles.

No, it’s not. My cheeks burn from smiling so much today.

“Well, thank you, Horace, for helping my fat, old wife off the boat. I’d be really sad if she was stuck up there forever.”

Evelyn hits him on the back of the head playfully. “Oh, shut up, Clyde, and take me to lunch.” They all say their goodbyes as I step off the boat.

Noah turns and his gaze finds mine. We look at each other for a moment, slow breaths, and heavy blinks. Then, I see the corner of his mouth lift and one of his perfect dimples pops through. “I’m hungry. Wanna grab some lunch?”

I’m supposed to say no.

I’m supposed to be staying far away from him.

I’m supposed to be doing this on my own.

“Sure,” I give in, and we walk up the pier.