Chapter 16
Erica
Here I was, thinking we were just going to hang out on the beach like normal people, and maybe finally have a little bit of a moment together. Instead, he got all serious. But as soon as he asks if I can keep a secret again, I feel more like I’m the one that’s the weird little secret.
I know that doesn’t make any sense, since we’re not anything official, but that’s why I’m feeling this way.
Ugh, I don’t know what to think. He’s waiting for me to respond and all I’ve done is nod so far, so I guess I should get out of my head and say something .
. . “Yeah. I can. I’m a pinky promise level secret keeper,” I sarcastically boast, feeling a little short and snappy.
“It’s not just my secret. That’s why it’s so important. If I tell you this . . . the whole world changes.”
There’s a raw vulnerability in his eyes that pulls me in, and I find myself a little breathless when I reply, “I can keep a secret. I promise.”
He blows out a breath, running his hands through his hair. “Would you believe me if I told you most of the stories and fairy tales you know are true in some respect?”
My eyes dart around waiting for the punch line, but he says nothing, so I say nothing in return.
“Shit, I don’t know how to explain all of this. Maybe I could show you?” He seems to be talking more to himself than me at this point but extends a hand to me before taking it back. “Wait. First, can I? Fuck, I’m fucking this all up.”
I’m not entirely sure what comes over me when I take his face in my hands and kiss the boy.
He was just so flustered and I’ve been wanting to kiss him for well, ever, and he seemed so stressed and like maybe he wanted me to.
In the first heartbeat, I worry I’ve done the wrong thing.
His body tenses, but then he’s quickly melting into me.
One of his arms winds around my back, pulling my body tighter against him while his other hand reaches to the loc’d half of my hair, holding my head as his tongue teases the seam of my lips.
Opening for him, I feel like I’m glowing.
There are too many emotions warring within my chest, and the thrill of sensation everywhere our bodies touch is nearly overwhelming.
A kiss has never felt so right in all my life.
I’ve never been this turned on. Part of the fun of my hormonal condition is that I have a bit of a low sex drive.
It’s one of the things that always contributed to men’s eventual tire of me.
Can I please not think of other men when my wildest dreams are coming true in real time?
I’m a panting, nearly moaning mess when he pulls his lips away and rests his forehead against mine.
“Mmmm, you taste even more amazing than I’ve been dreaming of.
” His voice is low and gravelly, and it makes my thighs clench.
“We will absolutely be doing that again—I hope—but I really do need to finish telling you about us.”
Oh right. Ominous fairy tales and such.
He paces a bit in the sand, so I take his hand. When his eyes meet mine again, he smiles brightly. “Come on, I’ll show you,” he says as he begins to pull me toward the ocean lapping at the sand, like it’s reaching for us.
I stop just short of the water, stepping out of my flip-flops, and maybe a little more seductively than is needed, I slide my swimming cover up my body and over my head.
Having Ari’s entire attention on me, and my body, is a feeling that could easily become addicting.
There’s a hunger in his eyes as they trail every inch of flesh visible in my little black, spiked string bikini.
This is something I never could have left the house in while I was with Vann because he firmly believed “women my size shouldn’t wear bikinis” and all other similar fatphobic, misogynistic logics.
Horribly pretending not to notice that Ari’s practically salivating over my body, I pull my hair tie from my wrist and maneuver my hair and locs into a bun on top of my head to try to keep them from the salt water as best as I can.
I may also have dramatically arched my body in the process, but I’m not sorry.
Beginning to walk toward the water, I look back over at him where he still stands slightly stupefied. “Are we going in?” I look between him and the moon hung above the ocean.
He scurries to catch up to me, gently capturing my wrist just before I’ve made it to the water.
I’m so close I can feel the gentle, salty mist in the air.
I don’t remember what I’ve opened my mouth to say as Ari’s cheekbone seems to sparkle and morph right before my eyes, something shimmering on his face that I didn’t notice was there before.
A surge of slimy, green jealously weaves its way through me, though I have no right.
I know that they’re rockstars and women all over the world want him.
Hell, I was—I guess am—one of those girls.
I reach up to dust someone’s left behind glitter off his face, not understanding how I didn’t see it back at the hotel.
Only, when my fingers graze his cheek, the shimmering doesn’t go away and if that’s glitter, I’ve never felt such solid, strange glitter before. It feels almost like . . .
My mind spins with information and the little, weird things he’s been saying today.
Through all of my glitter jealousy and thoughts racing through my mind, I realize he’s just sitting there.
Looking a little pale, even in the dark.
Is he waiting for me to say something or get the weird substance off his face?
Then—still without saying anything—he takes a step back and holds his arms out.
I see along his shoulders, collarbones, elbows, hips, and even the tops of his hands, there’s more shimmering in the moonlight.
If I wasn’t a bit freaked out, I would ponder over the fact that he looks like a high-class makeup artist spent an exuberant amount of time applying what looks like amazing contouring highlights.
Of course that would be the moment he asks me, “What are you thinking right now?” His voice sounds funny. Like he’s holding his breath.
“Honestly, I was going to ask you what highlighter your makeup artist uses, but I have a feeling that’s not what this is.”
He at least chuckles at my response, and just the sound sets a bit of my body at ease.
He offers me his hand, and I take it as we step into the water.
He stares out at the ocean for what seems like an entire lifetime before he turns to me and just as plain as day, like it’s absolutely no big deal, says, “I’m a merman. ”