5. Eliza
Chapter five
Eliza
T he question burns deep within me, but I don’t for one second entertain the idea of asking it.
He would pull away. He would ignore and avoid and pretend not to see me. And I don’t want to lose my time here with Corey. I don’t want to let the loneliness sink in.
But with every quiet moment I have, I can’t help but wonder: who are you ?
Corey’s reaction to the simple question was too rigid for it not to have cut into him. I knew he was hiding something—but I didn’t realize what he was hiding was himself . Who he truly is.
I have to know.
But it’s better if I don’t.
This is a week-long thing. Whatever he and I have going on, it’s tangled up in dozens of conditions—the strongest of which being how temporary this is. We don’t have the time to share secrets with each other. Don’t have the time to talk about our pasts. I’m here to escape mine, actually, even if only for a little while. And I have the feeling Corey is here for the same purpose, if in a slightly different form .
But that doesn’t mean I’m not curious. Deeply so. It doesn’t mean I’m not dying to know what it is he’s hiding, wondering if it has anything to do with his preternaturally fast reflexes when he saved me from plummeting to the rocky ground.
Being curious is fine. Who wouldn’t be, at least a little bit, about the handsome stranger they recently befriended for a short period of time in a controlled environment? Curiosity is instinctual for humans. We are desperate to know everything—especially about the people we’re near.
So yes, I’ll allow myself to wonder.
But not for one moment will I entertain the idea of allowing myself to ask Corey a single thing.
We’re en route to our next hiking destination, but the ship won’t make it there until late tonight. This means Corey and I have all of today to explore the ship, the various activities—and I have all day to accidentally blurt out the question I’m actively suppressing but could at any moment let slip.
Here’s to hoping that I don’t.
Corey insists we start off at the surf simulation. “I need to know how competitive you are,” he says, winking. “It’ll set the tone for the rest of the day.”
“We’re already both painfully aware of how accident prone I am. You really want to see how much more graceful I get when balanced on a board that’s bobbing on the water?”
“To be totally honest with you,” Corey says, his voice slow and tinted with amusement, “I just think it’ll be hilarious to watch you try not to fall.”
I groan, but I let him wrap his hand around mine and lead me toward the simulator.
This early in the morning, there’s hardly anyone there. Which is good for me, because it minimizes the amount of embarrassment that’s about to wreak havoc on my nervous system.
The simulator is along the rear part of the deck that houses other outdoor activities, like miniature golf and basketball, and a ropes course winds its way overhead.
An unfamiliar couple balance on two of the boards, grinning as they twist and contort their bodies to keep upright. They’re the only other people at the simulation. Everyone else who’s already up is walking on the pathway along the deck, checking out some of the other activities, sometimes taking a seat in one of the vacant lounge chairs. “Are you sure we can’t do something safer, like that mini-golf over there?” I ask, but he just grins at me.
The simulation attendant standing in front of the attraction strides toward us with a polite, warm smile on her face. “Are you two ready to give it a go?”
Nerves wrack my body instantly when Corey turns to look at me, a devilish grin on his lips. I take a quick step away, only just realizing when our hands tear away from each other that our fingers had been laced together. It had just felt so… natural. Familiar. Which is odd, because his hands are far bigger than Adam’s. Not that Adam and I ever really bothered to hold hands, anyway. Neither of us were really outwardly affectionate with each other. I hadn’t really understood I’d been missing it, or wanting it.
Corey has made me realize I was. That I wanted someone to give me those small, simple affectionate touches .
Obviously, it didn’t mean anything, though. Not with Corey. We were friends. Just… unwilling to get accidentally separated in the traffic of the cruise ship. Nevermind how little of a crowd there is right now…
“Well?” Corey asks. “Are you ready?”
I shake my head and wipe my sweaty palms on the front of my denim shorts. “You first.”
“You two can go together,” the attendant offers helpfully.
But I just shake my head. “I want to see how he does first.”
Corey cocks an eyebrow. “Why? You scared?”
I nod aggressively. “Definitely. Because if you fall, do you know what that means for me?” I don’t give him time to answer before saying firmly, “It means death, Cor. Death .”
He laughs, eyes sparking with delight. “I’m Cor now, am I?”
My cheeks flush. “It’s easy to say,” I mutter, embarrassed. “Now go. Let me have the first laugh, at the very least.”
Corey’s eyes scan over me, something almost like possession but maybe a little closer to protectiveness in his eyes. His words are soft, though, not nearly as strong as the emotions I sense from him. “I won’t let you fall, Eliza.” My name on his tongue is a sweet caress. “You know that.”
I think about the cliff’s edge I almost stepped off of. How he was right there beside me, pulling me up so impossibly fast that my stomach had barely even had time to drop.
I nod. “Okay,” I whisper. “But I will never speak to you again if I break a tooth.”
He grins, then nods solemnly. “Sounds fair.”
The attendant offers to help get him on the board, but Corey shakes his head and says, “I’m good. I’ve surfed before.”
I gape. “You’ve surfed before?”
He laughs and nods. “Both in the ocean and on a simulation like this, actually.”
I narrow my eyes. “You asshole! You just wanted to show off.”
A smug grin takes up residence on his face as he shrugs. “So what if I did? Maybe I just want to impress my new friend.”
I roll my eyes even as my heart squeezes in my chest. “Impress away, then,” I grumble.
Corey gets on the board and adjusts his body with the water like he’s done it dozens of times before. Hundreds.
I wonder if he will ever stop amazing me. And then I remember that I’ve only known him a few days, and that I’ll only know him a few more, and there’s not really enough time in that brief window to learn everything about him and stop being surprised by those things.
Corey holds out his hands. Intimidation mixed with adrenaline and anxiety has my gut twisting, but the second I look into his eyes those feelings drift away. I see how confident he is on that board. It’s almost unnatural how perfectly he manages to balance upon it. There’s a certain… almost ethereal sort of grace to his movements. They don’t look real. More like the sort of thing I’d expect to see from a fictional vampire .
In a blink, I’m taking Corey’s hands in mine. He twines our fingers together and holds firm, a steady weight against my palms that keeps my heart beating evenly.
Another blink, and I’m on the board, water splashing against my calves and ankles, but that’s all. I remain on the board as water races beneath us—all because of Corey’s support.
I realize then that I’m not sure that I care who he is. I don’t care about why Ryker thought he looked familiar last night, or about what he’s done that’s made him so damn cagey.
I don’t care, because I know it won’t change anything.
It won’t make me care about him any less. I won’t stop liking him because of a name or a rumor or whatever the fuck it is that happened.
At his core, I know who he is.
And that’s enough for me to know how I feel about him.