2
Colter
“You’re way too cheerful.”
Marc looks up from his suitcase, eyebrows raised in exaggerated innocence. “What do you mean?”
“This.“
I gesture vaguely at the cabin, at the suitcase he’s unpacking with alarming enthusiasm, at the whole situation. “You don’t do vacations. You haven’t taken a vacation in … Actually, have you ever taken a vacation?”
“That’s not true,“
Marc says, pulling out a stack of T-shirts and shoving them into a drawer. “I took a whole year off after college. Before I decided to start being an adult.”
“Right.“
I hang up one of my shirts in the tiny closet. “You got everything right except the adult part.”
“Very funny, Mister When-Was-The-Last-Time-I-Took-A-Day-Off.“
Marc throws a balled-up sock at my head. I catch it without looking. “Seriously, Colter. When was the last time you did something that wasn’t work?”
I shrug. “I’m building a business. Besides, what else do I have? I’m not the sort of person who can sit at home doing nothing, and there are only so many hours I can spend at the gym.”
Marc gives me a look. A pointed, loaded look I recognize immediately, and I hate that I recognize it because it means I know exactly what he’s thinking.
I could have Robin.
But I don’t. Because Robin broke up with me, and there’s no point in dwelling on what I wish I could have or the past I can’t undo. I’ve spent the last few months trying to convince myself of that, staring across the road at his shop, watching him through the window as he helps customers and arranges displays and lives his life without me in it.
“Don’t,“
I say quietly.
Marc holds up his hands. “I didn’t say anything.”
“You were thinking it.”
“Can’t arrest a man for his thoughts. Anyway, come on, let’s hit the pool. I read this ship has the best pool deck in the industry, and I intend to test that claim.”
I want to argue. I want to say that I’d rather stay in the cabin and stare at the ceiling for the next seven days. But Marc is already changing, and I know from experience that resistance is futile when he’s in this mood.
Fine. Pool, it is.
The deck is crowded when we get there, tourists spread out on loungers soaking up the sun. I scan the area for two empty spots, and that’s when I see him.
Robin.
He’s lying on a lounger near the far end of the pool, green swim shorts, dark hair falling across his forehead, with those freckles I used to lose myself in standing out against his skin. He looks good. He always looks good. It’s incredibly annoying.
Jules is next to him, and when Jules spots us, Robin follows Jules’s gaze, which is when our eyes meet.
For a moment, neither of us moves. It’s like time has frozen, the noise of the pool fading to nothing as we stare at each other. I can see the exact moment recognition shifts to confusion to something harder.
Robin sits up slowly, his jaw tight. He turns to Jules.
“Did you plan this?”
Why would he say that?
Jules’s mouth opens and closes. He looks at Marc with an expression that clearly screams help me.
And that’s when it clicks.
I turn to Marc, who has suddenly found the pool tiles very interesting. “You planned this. Both of you.”
Marc winces. “Colter—”
“What gave you the idea that bumping into my ex on vacation would be my idea of a good time?”
I don’t mean for it to come out so sharp, but it does. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Robin flinch. His expression shutters, and when he stands up, there’s a stiffness to his movements that I recognize. I’ve hurt him. Again.
“Enjoy your vacation,“
Robin says flatly, and then he’s walking away, weaving through the loungers toward the stairs that lead to the deck below.
Part of me wants to call after him. Part of me wants to explain that I didn’t mean it like that, that seeing him isn’t the problem, that the problem is seeing him and knowing I can’t have him anymore.
But I don’t. Because what would be the point?
I turn in the opposite direction.
“Colter, wait,“
Marc says. “We just thought … maybe if you two spent some time together, away from Pine Ridge, away from the excuses of work and—”
“You thought what? That we’d magically fix everything?“
I shake my head. “This wasn’t your call to make, Marc.”
“We’re worried about you. Both of you. You’ve been miserable for months, and so has he, and we just—”
“I need to go for a walk.”
Marc reaches for my arm. “Colter—”
“A walk, Marc.“
I pull away, already moving toward the stairs. “Which should be fun, considering we’re on a ship that left port an hour ago.”
I take the stairs two at a time, not sure where I’m going, just knowing I need to move. The corridor stretches out ahead of me, identical doors on either side, and I pick a direction at random.
A whole week. I’m stuck on this ship with Robin for a whole week.
I think about his face when I said those words. My ex. Like that’s all he ever was. Like five years meant nothing.
No matter how far I walk, there’s nowhere to go.
The ship hums beneath my feet, carrying me farther from shore, farther from any chance of escape.
Seven days.
This is going to be a disaster.