Chapter 21
Chapter Twenty-One
Avery
T he roar of the speedboat's engine filled my ears as I white-knuckled the railing, the salty Aegean breeze whipping through my hair with all the gentleness of a category five hurricane.
Beside me, Brody flashed a daring grin, his eyes sparkling with more mischief than a classroom of unsupervised kindergarteners as he steered the boat around the pristine coastline of Mykonos.
It was a far cry from the tense silences and forced smiles of the past few days. A rush of exhilaration mingled with the ache of what we'd lost, like a rollercoaster ride through the ruins of our relationship.
“Jesus, Brody!” I shouted over the wind. “Are you trying to recreate The Perfect Storm or just compensate for something?”
He shot me a look that was half amusement, half challenge.
“I think you know better than most that there is little need for compensation.”
Damn it. Now I was thinking about a certain appendage I should decidedly not be thinking about. And he knew it too.
"What's wrong, Spark? Afraid of getting a little wet?" His voice carried that dangerous edge, the one that used to make my knees weak. Still did, if I was being honest.
"After what you pulled in London?" I kept my voice sharp enough to cut. "I think I've had enough of your 'trust me' moments to last a lifetime."
The playfulness vanished from his face. "That was different. I screwed up, I know that." He ran a hand through his salt-sprayed hair. "But I meant what I said—never again. No more surprises, no more pushing you to do anything you don’t want to."
Something in his tone made me look at him—really look. The sincerity in his eyes caught me off guard, made my chest tight in a way I refused to examine. So instead, I looked out at the view.
Mykonos Town sparkled in the distance, all white buildings and blue domes against a perfect sky. It was pretty enough to almost make me forget why we were here—our messy breakup, the awkward pretense of being a couple for our followers (because nothing says 'healthy relationship' like lying to thousands of strangers), and enough unresolved feelings to fill a self-help book.
“Hold on tight, Spark!” Brody called out, using the nickname that once made my heart flutter and now made it do a confused tap dance. “It's gonna get bumpy!”
As if on cue, the boat lurched over a wave, sending spray flying. I let out a surprised laugh that was part exhilaration, part terror, and maybe a smidge of 'holy shit, we might die.'
The sound almost startled me. When was the last time I'd laughed? Probably before our relationship went up in flames.
I glanced back at the boat “chasing” us—the staged chase was part of our latest adventure for our followers, but the adrenaline pumping through my veins felt as real as anything.
I watched Brody as he handled the boat. His confidence had always been both annoying and hot as hell. His arms flexed as he steered, and I felt a flutter in my stomach that had nothing to do with the choppy water.
Damn it. Why did he have to look so good while possibly trying to kill us both?
“You know,” I shouted over the engine's roar, “if you put half as much effort into communication as you do into showing off, we might not be in this mess!”
Brody's laugh was as warm and rich as a chocolate lava cake.
“Oh, Spark, if I didn't know better, I'd think you were impressed.”
As we approached the small islet of Rineia, a sharp turn around a rocky outcrop sent me stumbling like I'd had one too many ouzo shots. Before I could regain my balance, I crashed into Brody, pressed against his chest like a reluctant damsel in distress.
For a second, we just stood there, faces inches apart. The air between us crackled like Pop Rocks, with the backdrop of white-washed houses intensifying the moment like we were trapped in some kind of Grecian fever dream.
Brody's eyes, usually so full of mischief, were dark with an emotion I couldn't quite define. Or maybe didn't want to, because defining it would be like opening Pandora's box of 'Feelings We Definitely Shouldn't Be Having.'
“You know, Spark,” Brody murmured, his breath warm against my cheek, “if you wanted to get close to me, you could've just asked. No need for the dramatic stumbling act.”
I snorted, trying to ignore my racing heart. “Please. If I wanted your attention, I'd just wave a mirror in your direction. You'd come running.”
He smirked.
I had to forcibly remind myself of our breakup and step away. “Thanks,” I muttered, trying to tame my wind-whipped hair. “Guess I'm not cut out for life at sea.”
Brody's hands lingered on my waist for a heartbeat longer than necessary before he let go.
“Anytime, Spark. That's what I'm here for. Your personal life preserver and ego-checker, all rolled into one devastatingly handsome package.”
I turned away, gazing at the scenery to distract myself from the urge to kiss that smug look off his face as Brody refocused on the task at hand.
We navigated a particularly tricky stretch, narrowly avoiding other boats and jagged rocks like we were in some kind of aquatic obstacle course, and I found myself grinning with genuine joy.
The thrill of the chase, combined with the stunning beauty, was going straight to my head.
“Having fun, Spark?” Brody called out, grinning like an idiot.
“Maybe,” I admitted, unable to keep the smile off my face.
It wasn't until I caught Brody looking at me, a soft smile playing on his lips, that I realized it was the first time I'd felt this alive and happy since our breakup. The thought sobered me instantly, like someone had dumped a bucket of ice water over my head.
In a quiet moment, we drifted past some ancient ruins, the golden light of the sun bathing the millennia-old columns in a warm glow and reminding me of the weight of history.
How many lovers had stood on these shores, grappling with the same fears and desires I felt? Probably a lot, but I bet none of them had to deal with the added pressure of documenting their romantic turmoil for thousands of social media followers.
But then the pursuing boat caught up, initiating the final “confrontation” for our video.
As Brody played up the drama for the camera, with the stunning blue waters as a backdrop, I admired his natural charisma and the way he lit up in front of an audience. It was one of the things that drew me to him in the first place—this ability to command attention and make everyone around him feel like part of the adventure.
“Oh no!” Brody exclaimed with exaggerated horror, hamming it up. “The pirates are gaining on us! We’re doomed!”
I couldn't help but laugh at his ridiculousness. “Maybe if you stopped posing and actually drove the boat, we wouldn't be in this mess!”
Brody yanked the wheel hard to port, sending us screaming around the islet's jagged edges. Our hull sliced through the water like a blade, kicking up a monster wake that slammed into our pursuers.
Their boat lurched sideways, crew scrambling for handholds as white water crashed over their bow. When the time clock's buzz cut through the chaos, we'd done more than win—we'd given them a master class in why you don't mess with the best.
Caught up in the thrill of victory, I threw my arms around Brody in celebration, only to quickly pull back, the moment of closeness highlighting the distance between us like a neon sign flashing 'AWKWARD' in fifty-foot letters.
“Nice move, Captain,” I said, trying to play it cool. “Where'd you learn that? Buccaneer school?”
Brody's laugh was warm and genuine. “Nah, just natural talent. And maybe a few too many action movies.”
He docked the boat on a secluded beach, and we found ourselves alone, the adrenaline still coursing through our veins.
I turned to him, my heart pounding. We locked eyes, and suddenly the air felt thick enough to choke on. The sun was doing its best to turn the moment into a romance movie, all pink and gold and magnificent.
For a second, I wondered if Brody felt as messed up about our breakup as I did. Did he lie awake at night, replaying our moments together, or was that just my own personal brand of masochism?
“Well,” I blurted out, because apparently my mouth had a death wish, “for people who make a living traveling the world, we sure made a mess of our own journey, didn't we?”
Brody's eyebrows shot up. “Well, shit, Spark. I didn't realize we were opening the can of emotional worms. Should I grab some tequila?”
I sighed.
The gentle lapping of waves against the shore filled the silence between us, sounding suspiciously like Mother Nature was gently whispering, “Kiss already, you dumbasses.”
Brody took a step toward me, his hand reaching out as if to touch my face before dropping back to his side.
“Avery,” he began, his voice husky with emotion. “I?—”
But before he could finish, a flock of seagulls decided to perform an impromptu aerial show, screeching like crazy. The moment shattered like a dropped vase, leaving us standing there like two awkward statues.
“We should probably head back,” I said, my voice carefully neutral, as if I hadn't just been contemplating throwing caution to the wind and recreating every beach make-out scene from every movie ever made. “It's getting late, and you know how cranky I get without my beauty sleep.”
Brody nodded, a flicker of disappointment crossing his face before his smile slid back into place faster than you could say “emotional whiplash.”
“Right. Can't have you turning into a pumpkin at midnight. Though I gotta say, you'd make a pretty cute gourd.”
As we headed back to the boat, I couldn't shake the feeling that I'd just chickened out of something. All the questions I'd been wrestling with since our breakup came rushing back, hitting me like a wall of ‘what ifs.’
Was it too late to fix what we'd broken? And even if it wasn't, could I really risk my heart, my career, everything I'd worked so hard for on a relationship that probably wouldn’t last? Or was I just being a wuss, hiding behind my fears?
The sun dipped below the horizon as we re-boarded the boat, casting long shadows across the water.
I felt like I was standing at a fork in the road. The only problem was both paths forward were about as clear as the line between sea and sky in the gathering dusk.