Chapter 23
It’s impossible to fall asleep after the fire-dancing show. Nate and I didn’t let things progress beyond holding hands, not letting them drop until the end of the show. Ever since, I can’t shake the feeling I’ve let go of something I’m meant to hold on to.
Every time I close my eyes, Nate is there. Not Brody, not Nate pretending to be Brody, but the actual Nate I’ve come to know.
Nate doesn’t have the same trouble going to sleep. His chest rises and falls in a steady rhythm, accentuated by the snores that irritated me on the flight here and punctuated our nights since. The sound isn’t just familiar but welcome.
I close my eyes again, and my brain replays the sex dream I had nights prior until my cheeks heat and I force my eyes open. There’s really no hope of sleep now.
I slip out of bed, pulling on a fluffy bathrobe before tiptoeing toward the deck. Nate’s snores cover the noise of me inching open the door and stepping outside.
It’s quiet out here. Peaceful. The water still, the neighboring bungalows darkened, and the night full of possibility. There’s an opportunity in front of me, and I’m seizing it.
Under the twinkling stars, I shrug off my bathrobe and let it fall to the ground. My tank top, matching sleep shorts, and panties follow, puddling onto the deck as the warm night air dances across my bare skin.
Naked in the moonlight, I understand Sarah’s mindset that fatal night in a way I never have before. She was growing up, embracing a bright future, and shedding what no longer fit—never once afraid to simply be herself. She may be dead, but she lived. It’s time for me to do the same.
I cross to the stairs leading into the water, holding onto the railing as I descend. When the water’s edge licks my feet, my heart stutters. Then I hear Nate’s words from the waterfall in my head. Deep breaths, Abigail. You can do this. Nothing to be afraid of.
He was right. I’m no longer the girl who panics at the sight of water, who stands frozen on the sidelines while the rest of the world goes on without her. I won’t let myself be.
I step down, then down again, the water rising with each step until it hugs my waist. Seconds pass before I take a deep breath and push out from the stairs, the liquid cool and silky against my skin.
I shift to my back, my arms drifting at my sides as the water moves with me, not against. The night sky stretches above me, a blanket of stars twinkling in celebration.
Nate’s reassuring voice speaks in my head again. I knew you could do it.
I smile, closing my eyes. The fear, the anxiety, the paralyzing doubt it’s all washed away. I’m not that scared girl anymore; I’m someone who can dive into the unknown, who can trust herself.
Maybe I’m someone who can take a risk in love, too.
The thought makes my heart flutter. This isn’t just about the water anymore. It’s about letting go of the fears and insecurities holding me back. For the first time, I’m ready to break through them.
I submerge my head under the surface, letting the world go completely silent. When I come up seconds later, I’ve let something heavy go.
I slowly blink my eyes open. When I do, Nate is standing on the deck next to my discarded clothes. He’s still in pajamas, his hair loose as he runs a hand over his face.
“What are you doing?” The observation goes unspoken. You’re in open water by yourself.
I expect to be embarrassed or at a loss for words, but I’m not. If anything, I’m emboldened. “What does it look like?”
“It looks like you’re skinny-dipping.” A lightbulb seems to go off for him. “Is this because of Sarah?”
I nod, my chin kissing the water’s surface. I don’t clarify this is as much about me as it is about Sarah. Somehow, this is bringing her closer while also setting me free.
He nods back as if he fully understands. Maybe he does. If this trip has shown me anything, it’s that Nate gets me in a way no man ever has. He’s someone I can trust my whole self with if I choose.
Nate peels off his fading gray t-shirt, revealing an expanse of toned chest and the broad shoulders that have helped me feel safe during this trip.
I inhale sharply as he reaches for his gym shorts, making quick work of them as well.
I’m staring lower than I should be, soaking in the way his navy briefs cling to his upper thighs and the bulge between them.
“What are you doing?” My question is barely a whisper while my mind shouts don’t stop.
Nate seems to hear both voices. “Testing how cold the water really is at night. For research.” He hesitates. “Unless you think you have it under control?”
A smile works the corner of my mouth. “It’s definitely a two-person job.”
He hooks a finger in the waistband of his briefs, and I avert my gaze just in time. Seeing something I can’t have—shouldn’t have—would be torture. Brody and I may have ended things, but that doesn’t make it okay to cross this line with his twin brother.
But Nate is also a man who’s earned part of my heart. After everything with Brody, Nate might be the only one with a real claim to it anymore.
My heart races at the thought, egging me to look back. By the time I do, Nate is waist-deep in the water, his briefs secured on the railing. I spin around, pretending to study how the moon casts a surreal glow across the lagoon, making the surface look as fragile as glass.
I hear Nate dunk under, then his steady strokes as he swims closer. If I didn’t, I’d still know he was near without looking. His presence is a magnet pulling me in even when I’ve tried to resist.
“It’s not terrible.” His voice is closer, teasing and familiar.
I face him, finding him close enough to see droplets glistening on his eyelashes. My breath hitches. I’m not sure if it’s real or imagined, but I can feel the heat from his body through the water.
“Don’t undersell it. It’s perfect and peaceful out here.” I try to keep my tone light despite the fluttering in my stomach.
His eyes lock with mine. “Yeah, it is.”
We keep our attention pinned on each other as we swim in what could be mistaken for silence. There’s a familiar question behind his stare, one I don’t need him to voice because we’re each other’s answers.
His gaze flicks to my mouth, just for a second, and my heart stutters. We’ve spent this trip pretending there isn’t this inevitable pull between us and wielding Brody like a shield to stop it. But now, there is no one and nothing between us.
It no longer matters what’s right or wrong by Brody. All that matters is the present.
Me, here with Nate.
How I’m not his, but I want to be.
“Nate,” I whisper. I’m not sure what to say next, only that I need to break the silence before it swallows me whole. Forget the mouth of the ocean—letting even one more moment pass us by is what scares me now.
Nate’s right there with me, his hand already reaching for my cheek. His touch is light, almost hesitant, as if this alone is too good to be true or too perfect to trust. Perhaps it is.
“Maybe we shouldn’t be doing this.” I make the offer, giving him an out while hoping with all my might he won’t take it.
“Maybe not,” he says, unmoving. “But is it bad that I don’t want to stop?”
The world is so muted, his breathing is amplified. There’s the heavy rise and fall of his chest, and the faint ripple it makes in the water around us.
“No, not bad,” I say, my voice raw. “I feel exactly the same.”
My chin tilts up in his hand, and his lips crash down on mine.
The impact is hungry, but the kiss is soft, and tentative, tasting faintly of the pineapple margaritas from earlier and minty toothpaste.
His hand slips from my face to my waist, drawing me in with a promise of something more, if I want it.
It could just be the intoxicating effect Nate has on me, but I can’t recall anything I’ve wanted more.
My fingers tangle in his hair, pulling him closer. It feels like I’m sinking, like the water is swallowing us, and each of us is the other’s lifeline. My mind races with thoughts I can’t put into words, but I don’t need words. Not when his lips are here, warm and inviting.
Not when my entire body aches for more.
It’s a need only he can fulfill.
Nate pulls back just enough to assess the situation, his gray eyes dark, his expression open in a way I’ve never seen before. The closest was the night on the deck when we spilled our secrets, but this is already something deeper, even if it were to end here.
Neither of us moves away. We just float, our bodies entangled, caught somewhere between defiance and surrender.
I’m hyperaware of every point where we’re touching—his hand at my waist, the way his chest grazes my breasts, our legs brushing underwater. Every inch of me is ablaze, my heart racing with all the things we’ve left unsaid, all the ways we’ve tried to pretend we didn’t feel this only to end up here.
Nate’s fingers slide up my spine, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake.
“You’re shaking,” he murmurs.
“It’s cold.” Neither of us believe me. Heat radiates between us, having nothing to do with the environment.
He brushes a strand of wet hair from my cheek. “Liar.”
Before I can consider protesting, his mouth is on mine again.
The kiss is more certain this time, more intense.
I sink into him, my hands move on their own as they boldly explore the expanse of his chest, sending an electric surge through my veins.
His breath hitches at my touch, and a low sound between a sigh and a growl escapes.
It's as if I’ve unlocked a hidden part of him, and the rush of discovering it entices me to seek more.
I practically moan his name against his mouth, and he fights back a laugh.
“Yes?” His voice is thick with restraint I no longer have.
“I want—no, I need you.”
His expression brightens, then furrows. “Are you sure? If we do this…”
He lets the question trail off, but it doesn’t matter. I’ve never been more certain about anything.
My hand trails down his chest, through a thin patch of hair between his hips, and over his generous length.
I grip him, savoring the way he bites into his lower lip at my touch. “Very sure. Any other questions?”
He pulls me against him. “Only why are we still talking?”
“That is a good question.”
We kiss our way toward the deck, where we can touch the sandy floor. When we’re close enough, Nate lays me back on the partially submerged stairs and wedges himself between my legs.
He thrums against my entrance as he drinks me in, cupping a breast when he’s had his fill. “You are so beautiful. I literally don’t have the words.”
I smile up at him. “I thought you were an author.”
He pinches my nipple in response, and then his hands are everywhere—exploring, caressing, smoothing droplets across my skin and somehow using them to light tiny fires in his wake. He’s pressed against my center, teasing me until I’m practically begging for him to stake his claim.
“Oh, crap!” he shouts, pulling away. “I don’t have a condom on me.” His elbows poke out of the water as if he’s checking his non-existent pockets. “I have nothing on me.”
“Do you have something inside?” Impatience scratches through my question as my body is starved of his touch.
He tilts his head. “Given I was pretending to be my brother here, I didn’t think there’d be any chance of sex. Certainly not with you, given various circumstances.”
I hold back a laugh. “Well, I’m on the pill and clean.”
“I’m clean too. I haven’t been with anyone since…let’s go with a while. Not since I was last tested.”
“Then we’re good.” I confirm with a smile.
“Are you sure?” His breath is hot against my neck as his voice trembles with restraint.
“Do I need to show you again just how sure I am?” I trace my fingertips along his hip.
“As much as I’d enjoy that, it’s my turn to show you.”
Using the railing for support, he pushes into me in one swift stroke. The sensation is an intense mix of pleasure and slight discomfort as he fills me. It's a feeling I've been craving, a reminder of the passion I've been missing in my life—the passion Fiji has unlocked for me.
Nate is gentle at first, easing in and out a few times as if testing his restraint, before pulling me against him. Water splashes around us as his thrusts quicken, and every nerve ending in my body comes alive, desperate for more and yearning to be the one to bring us both over the edge.
“Wait,” I say, placing a hand on his chest.
He stops immediately, concern etched on his face. “Did I hurt you? Do you want to stop?”
I shake my head no to both, using my hand to push him out of me long enough to switch our positions so I’m on top.
“Isn’t that better?” I tease.
His expression is a mix of relief and eagerness that’s quickly overcome by a primal groan as I slowly lower myself onto him.
Our bodies synchronize effortlessly, discovering a rhythm both familiar and new. It’s the give and take we’ve been fighting since getting to Fiji.
A blissful moan escapes my lips as one of Nate’s hands ventures between my thighs. He rubs tight circles across my sensitive flesh, proving yet again he knows exactly what I need.
A shoulder to steady myself on the jet ski.
A dinner more substantial than cookies and wine.
A chance to take a risk at my own pace.
A hand that only reaches for me.
A reminder I am enough.
I’m tightening around him as he angles me forward, penetrating impossibly deeper as the night sky brightens with a series of white-hot stars shining just for us.
My nails rake across Nate’s chest, pleasure engulfing me in relentless waves. His breath is hot and ragged against my neck as he follows me over the edge, my name on his lips as he falls.
I collapse against him, and we stay there, clinging to each other as the world slowly comes back into focus.
“Wow,” he says finally, his voice a mix of awe and satisfaction. It doesn’t matter if he just means the sex because the way he says it makes it feel like so much more. Makes me feel like so much more to him.
The thought alone entices a round two inside before falling asleep in each other’s arms.
I wake in bed a couple of hours later—when the pink of a new morning is overtaking the sky—to Nate’s arm looped around me, pulling me close with a hint of a smile on his face.
I fight back a smile of my own before going back to sleep, hoping with every fiber of my being I won’t wake to discover this is all a dream.