Page 64 of Emerald Vices

I squint towards the boardwalk, searching for Andrey, but he’s nowhere to be seen. His search for hot dogs must’ve taken him farther down the walk.

It’s my fault. I told him I was starving and in desperate need of a snack. That was ten minutes ago, though, and now, a hot dog sounds disgusting. I want a pineapple.

I lie back on my foldable chair, toes curling into the beach blanket as I suck in another big, greedy breath of salty air. “Why don’t you get in the water, Misha? It looks amazing.”

Misha folds the seashell in both of his hands. “Nah. That’s okay.”

“Oh, come on! I’d be in there if I were you. But I’m me, and I’d probably float out to sea with this giant flotation device I’m carrying around.” I pat my stomach.

Misha kneels down to help Remi dig a hole. A crab disappeared into the sand and then popped up a few feet away, but Remi doesn’t know that or else he’d lose his mind barking.

I grab the overstuffed beach bag and pull it towards me. “I’m sure there’s a pair of extra trunks in here for you. Andrey thought of everything… Ah-ha!”

I hold up a pair of blue swim trunks, but Misha’s smile wilts at the sight of them. “I don’t want to get in the water, okay? Leave it alone.”

I open my mouth to argue when it hits me. “Misha, do you know how to swim?”

It never crossed my mind until now, but when would he have had the chance to learn? And who would have taught him?

We’ve been in the pool countless times, but he’s never actually swam a lap. I was always the one swimming while he lounged by the side, splashing his feet in.

He drops down onto the sand, his cheeks going scarlet.

“I’m so sorry. I never realized.”

“It’s easy to pretend around a pool,” he sighs. “But the sea is different. It’s scary.”

“I can teach you.”

He clams up. “You’re already teaching me enough.”

“Oh, Misha, life is all about learning. Do you think it ever stops? I’m pushing thirty and I’m still learning all sorts of things.”

“Like how to get along with Andrey?” he prods cheekily.

Using my toes, I whip a little plume of sand at him. “Learning to be a comedian now, are we?”

“Well, it’s hard not to notice that you two are… ‘getting along.’”

I frown. “Um, why was ‘getting along’ in air quotes?”

He blushes. “Never mind.”

“No, no, go ahead. Tell me what I’m missing.”

Misha reaches to pet Remi like the dog might save him, but Remi ducks away. Clearly, he’s smart enough to know he doesn’t want any part of this. “There’s been a lot of… kissing lately.”

Now, it’s my turn to blush. And here I thought we were being subtle. “That’s just—We’re not?—”

“It’s okay. It’s nice to see you guys getting along for once.” He wrestles a seashell from Remi’s mouth before the dog can swallow it. “When the two of you fight, it isn’t easy on anyone.” He grimaces like there’s more he’d like to say, but before he can, his gaze shifts over my shoulder. “Andrey’s on his way back.”

“Please tell me he’s got hot dogs with him.” All at once, they sound amazing again.

Misha laughs and jogs to help Andrey with all the goodies he’s brought back for us.

Like the smart man he is, Andrey bought me a hot dog and then walked another five minutes down the boardwalk to get me a fruit cup, a bucket of caramel corn, and a bag of pickle-flavored beef jerky.

“In case your pregnancy cravings have gone off the deep end and your taste buds are broken,” he explains.

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