“How many?” Derek asks abruptly the first moment we’re remotely alone.
“Five hundred.” My answer is lightning fast. “Wait, what are we talking about?”
He keeps his face pointed straight out over the helm of the boat toward the crystal-clear, turquoise ocean, but it’s clear his attention is zeroed in on me at his side.
After finishing up the interview, the four of us hopped in a hired car and drove to a large boat dock. Kamaya thought it would make for excellent photos to capture Derek and me on a snorkeling adventure in a coral reef with one of the local tours. This seemed like an excellent idea to me as well when I thought a coral reef was something we could walk to from a beach. Not exactly sure why I thought that, but I did. Now, however, I have quickly learned after buckling myself up into a bulky life vest that we cannot walk to it—we ride in a boat across the choppy ocean water and I hope my death doesn’t find me out there.
He glances down at me. “How many guys did you date after me?”
I grip the boat railing for support. “Excuse me? Nosy alert. I don’t think you get to ask me that.”
“I’m asking anyway. I want to know.” He cuts his eyes briefly off to the side to where Kamaya and Alec are talking with the captain (driver?) of the boat. I don’t know how to refer to the maybe-twenty-something-year-old guy about to steer our boat into an endless roaring ocean who looks like he’s barely old enough to drive a car let alone a vessel on the water. I’m not being fair. He’s probably a wonderful captain.
I just hate boats so much. Literally every movie ever that features a boat has it crashing and everyone drowning or being stranded on an island. I also imagine my hatred has something to do with the lack of control, but we’ll never know since the closest thing I have to a therapist is The Great British Bake Off.
Derek hooks his finger into the shoulder of my life vest (one that he’s apparently opted not to wear until we get in the water since he’s not terrified of going overboard like me) and spins me to face him. He clicks it open and then drags up the fabric of my cover-up to reveal a few inches of my midriff that my bikini doesn’t cover.
“Hey! What the—”
“And I want to know what this is from too.” His finger softly brushes against the small scar on the right side of my abdomen. The one I got from surgery five years ago.
I yank my cover-up back down and glare at him—not because I’m particularly modest or uncomfortable, but because I don’t have my sunscreen on yet and I will fry like bacon. “What’s gotten into you? Why do you need to know these things all of a sudden?” Because he feels what you feel. A shift. An awakening.
The look in Derek’s eyes is burning. “Because you’re…” He seems frustrated, grasping for how to finish that sentence. His eyes meet mine again and I’m disappointed when somehow I know it’s not what he was going to say. “This week you’re my wife, aren’t you? I should know important details about you. So how many?”
I plant my hands on my hips, suspicion lacing my words. “Derek Pender. You’re not…you wouldn’t be riding the jealous train into Possessive City, would you?”
“Maybe…please just tell me how many, Nora. Put me out of my misery.” He looks so obstinate. So resolute. Possessive and defeated at the same time.
“I don’t think you want to play this game, sir. Especially when I tell you it was only two men compared to your millions of women.”
He grimaces but not for the reason I think. “Damn, Nora. Only two? Two is much worse.”
My mouth falls open and a laugh shoots out. I peek over my shoulder to ensure that Kamaya and Alec are still in conversation with the boat captain. I lower my voice just in case. “In what world is me dating two men worse than the many, many women you’ve dated?” And then I shake myself. “No, wait—none of it is bad because we weren’t together at all in those years! You were entitled to date who you wanted, and so was I.”
He bypasses my pragmatic statement and inches closer until he grasps the buckles of my life vest and clicks them securely together again. “Two is worse because it’s so specific. Two means you really knew them—and you can most likely still remember them perfectly.” He doesn’t let go of my life vest yet. “What were their names?”
“You need to learn manners.”
“Please.” He grins. “Please, Ginger Snap, will you tell me the names of the guys you dated?” I nearly gasp at the sound of my old nickname on his lips. A surge of excitement shivers through me.
Still, I eye him sidelong, half-worried he’s collecting names to give to a hit man by the rabid look in his eyes. “Liam and Ben.”
“No.” He sounds more defeated than anyone has been in the history of ever. “Ben? You dated a guy named Ben? Which was probably short for Benjamin. Are you for real?” He takes an anxious step away and then whirls back quickly. “Shit…he was a good guy, wasn’t he? A doctor? Bens are always doctors or baseball players.”
I can’t help the grin I’m fighting. Turns out, my baser side likes seeing Derek jealous. Likes this new energy running between us as much as it scares me. “Pediatric doctor.”
He groans. “Did you sleep with him?”
My eyes flare. “Okay, now I’m putting my foot down.” I make a show of raising my foot in the air and lowering it. “See. Foot. Down. You don’t get to ask me questions like that.”
“You did. You slept with him.” None of his distress is for show, he’s really losing it right now. And as a result, I am too. Because what is even happening? “God—I’m having the desire to murder someone I’ve never met.”
“You’re kidding me with this?”
“Never been more serious.”
“Don’t you think you’re being a little double standard, then?”
He crowds me. “Are you not jealous? Do you not hate the thought of anyone else sleeping with me?” he grinds out, more unhinged than I’ve ever seen him.
And of course I’m jealous! But I don’t want him to know that. And frankly, I don’t want to be jealous since I know he’s had every right to kiss, sleep with, or fall in love with whoever he wants. I like being rational—but I’ve never been able to stay rational when it comes to Derek.
“Am I the only one who’s…” He looks torn between finishing the sentence or keeping it to himself. And then his gaze snags over my shoulder and he smiles politely to Kayama who has walked up behind us.
“All right, love birds? The captain is all set, so we’re going to take off. If you two want to just stay here and look out over the ocean as we motor, Alec is going to stand over there”—she points a few feet away—“and take some cute candid photos of you two. Sound good?”
“Sounds great!” I say, even though it actually sounds like the equivalent of swallowing cactus needles to have my picture taken while I live through the terror of falling off the front of the boat and sinking to the bottom of the ocean.
The engine revs up and so does my heart as the boat begins moving across the water. I really feel like, at this moment, I should have somewhere to sit, but alas, this boat is not of the sitting variety. Where we are standing is a massive blue deck with a very flimsy railing around it (unsafe), and down belowdecks there’s a smallish cabin with a few bench seats, but Alec quickly vetoed those when we arrived, saying it would make for incredible photos if we were looking off the bow of the boat as we cruise.
I bet Alec didn’t bank on my look of terror also being in these photos.
“Are you okay there, Nora?” Derek asks, seeing the look on my face and raising his voice above the sound of the boat’s engine.
“Yep!” I say loudly and cheerfully with a thumbs-up, but then I immediately regret letting go of the railing and I latch onto it again for dear life.
Derek steps behind me, and his large body presses into my back as he wraps his arms around my midriff, holding me firmly to him. I glance down and nearly choke on my own attraction at the sight of his pronounced veins and tendons wrapping his strong forearms. Manly forearms. Athlete forearms.
His mouth is at my ear. “You wouldn’t happen to be scared of boats, would you?”
“No,” I say quickly, and then when the whole boat dips over a small wave, I shriek like a crow. “Not scared. Terrified.”
Derek’s hold shifts and laces tighter. “You’re safe. I won’t let you go overboard,” he says, and I absolutely believe him. Deep in my bones I know that if this boat were to hit an iceberg and start sinking to the bottom of the ocean like the Titanic, Derek wouldn’t let go of me. And you better believe that if I found a floating piece of driftwood to hang on to, I’d scoot over and let him on it with me. There was more than enough room, Rose!
Distantly I’m aware of Alec moving up to the front of the boat with us and aiming his camera in our direction—but my mind is too focused on the feel of Derek’s hand spread out, covering my hip and dipping down to my thigh. His hold is not tentative or restrained. I would ask if it’s for show, but…after the way he just admitted to being jealous of my past relationships, I don’t think it is.
I’m not entirely sure what I’m doing or why my heart is racing out of my chest or if this is the worst idea in the world. But before I can chicken out, I raise my voice above the waves. “Derek. You’re not the only one who’s jealous.”
But he doesn’t hear me. “You’ll have to speak up! The engine is too loud,” he yells over the spray of the waves.
“You’re not the only one!” I yell. “I’ve been jealous since I saw you kiss a woman outside your apartment the week after we broke up!”
Suddenly, Derek is twisting me around to face him, his eyes full of concern. “You were at my—”
But the boat suddenly decelerates at the exact moment we hit a wave and the result has Derek’s body swaying into mine as my head jars in his direction—right into his face.
I yelp and Derek groans, and when I look up at him, he’s clutching his nose with both hands. “Oh god, Derek, are you okay?” I say but when he pulls his hands away, I see that he is not in fact okay. His nose is pouring blood.
Derek registers this at the same time I do, and his eyes cut to mine, knowing what’s about to happen. By this point, the boat has slowed to a stop and our brave captain has announced over the intercom that we’ve reached our snorkeling destination. But all I hear is wah, wah, wah, because at the sight of Derek’s blood, the world begins fading out from under me.
Derek calls my name and lunges toward me with blood pouring down his face and shirt, and then everything goes black.
