Shipped(45)
* * *
The rest of the morning is a blur of wildlife, people, and activity with barely a minute of downtime. Breakfast was a rushed affair since our group was late returning to the ship, followed by snorkeling and a quick buffet lunch. And now it’s time for either kayaking or a Zodiac ride.
Throughout everything, I haven’t been able to look at Walsh, much less speak to her. Because I have so many words I want to say I’m choking on them. And that means I haven’t talked to Graeme either, because if Walsh plastered herself to him any tighter, she’d become permanently tattooed on his arm.
I make a disgusted noise in my throat. Walsh said she’s kayaking, so that means a Zodiac ride for me. I’ve seen enough of her making a fool of herself over Graeme to last a lifetime.
Her high-pitched giggle echoes from across the mudroom, cutting through the chatter of a couple of dozen guests waiting their turn to disembark so we can all explore Floreana Island a second time today. Graeme shifts his weight beside her. I grind my molars so hard a tick starts in my jaw.
You know what? Whatever. They’re consenting adults. It’s not like I called dibs on Graeme. I even told Walsh I didn’t want him. Jamming my baseball cap onto my head, I yank my ponytail through the back slot. Really, she’s doing me a favor. With Graeme distracted, I can focus on my proposal. I’ve gone down the attraction road with a coworker before, and it led my job right over a cliff. Maybe this is just the wake-up call I needed. Maybe I should thank Walsh.
Three people down from me, Nikolai is talking loudly. “Dwight, you cannot kayak. Is not good for your joints. I’m your chiropractor, yes? You listen to me. You do Zodiac cruise, I kayak. We meet after.”
“All right, if you insist,” says Dwight with a shrug. “I just didn’t want to leave you hangin’, buddy.”
When Nikolai claps his friend on the shoulder, he catches sight of me. Puckering his lips, he dips his chin, props one foot on a nearby bench, and leans into an exaggerated stretch. The way he’s thrusting his hips, he might as well have a blinking sign pointing to his crotch proclaiming, “Hey, gurl, check out my package.” Dwight rolls his eyes.
My cheeks prickle. Automatically, I glance around. Graeme is watching me. His gaze darts between me and Nikolai, his expression darkening. He makes a move as though he’s going to walk toward me, but Walsh’s hand lands on his shoulder. Pushing onto her toes, she leans in until her lips are an inch away from his ear. She whispers something. He jolts and blinks down at her.
My feet carry me toward Graeme of their own accord.
As I edge through the crowded mudroom, Gustavo’s voice reverberates through the speakers. “Good afternoon, good afternoon. All of the single kayaks are now filled, but plenty of tandem kayaks are still available. If you would like to kayak, please find a partner and make your way to the mudroom. For those who would prefer to go on a Zodiac nature cruise instead, disembarkation will begin in fifteen minutes.”
Walsh turns to Graeme. “Partners?”
Graeme hesitates, eyes flashing when they fasten on mine.
A frown flits across her face as she looks between us. “Don’t worry, Henley doesn’t need a partner. You said you’re doing the Zodiac cruise, right, Hen? So, what do you say?” she asks him.
“Excuse me,” says a familiar Russian-accented voice. Nikolai sidles up and stands at my elbow. “I do not suppose you are in need of a partner?”
Walsh was right; I hadn’t planned on kayaking. But now…
Graeme tilts his head to the side and folds his arms across his broad chest. A single eyebrow lifts. What are you going to do?
It’s a challenge. What the rules are, I have no idea. My heart beats a military tattoo as Graeme studies me intently.
I clear my throat and slap on a smile. Two can play at this game. “I sure am,” I say to Nikolai.
“Oh, well, we can be partners then—” Walsh starts, but I cut her off.
“No, it’s fine. You go with Graeme and I’ll go with Nikolai. Done and done.” Edging half a step closer to Nikolai, I slip my arm through his. He jerks and stares down at me like I’ve spontaneously started tap dancing.
The way Graeme looks away and his shoulders stiffen has my stomach folding into origami.
Because somehow, even though I’m not sure what the test was, I can’t avoid the nagging feeling that I’ve failed.
15
This is even better than a dinner date. We are here in beautiful nature. Exercising our bodies together, working hard, sweating…”
This was a bad idea.
Our oars plunk through the gentle waves, and no matter how hard I paddle, I can’t escape Nikolai’s incessant chatter.
Because he’s right behind me. In the same kayak.
“Let’s go this way,” I say, jabbing my oar to the left, toward where Graeme and Walsh’s kayak glides parallel to shore. They paddle together in perfect synchronicity past dozens of bright red crabs skittering across a jumble of black lava rocks.
Nikolai dips his oar on the wrong side of the boat and we start drifting to the right.
“No, we have to work together. Watch me… left… right… left… right,” I chant. We pick up speed. My shoulders and upper back muscles burn, but I keep up the grueling pace.