Page 32 of The Version You Hide

HARPER: So tell me... On a scale of 1 to 10... How hot are the instructors? :P

HARPER: Can't believe you still haven't sent me a pic.

I almost laugh out loud. Her timing is impeccable. If only she knew. Before I’ve even had a chance to slide my phone into my pocket, it chimes again. Twice.

“Must be important,” Dylan says gesturing to the phone in my back pocket.

“Hardly,” I scoff.

He arches an eyebrow in question.

“It’s just Harper being… Harper,” I say, rolling my eyes and retrieving the phone again as a third notification comes through.

HARPER: Remember I'm living vicariously through you.

HARPER: Selfie!!

HARPER: Mama needs her eye candy!

“Is everything okay? Is it Noah? What’s she saying?"

“Nothing. He’s fine,” I tell him, barely stifling a soft laugh.

Harper’s texts, as outrageous as they may be, seem to be lifting me from my sullen mood and I don’t think I’m doing a very good job of masking the smirk that seems intent on blowing my cover here.

“Then what is it?” He leans into me, analysing my face. “Wait. Are you smiling?”

“No,” I lie. “It’s nothing.”

And then he’s swiping the phone from my grip. I try to reclaim it, my fingers grasping at his muscular forearms to no avail. I surrender, squeezing my eyes shut in embarrassment as he skims over Harper’s words. When I open them, he’s still reading, the corners of his mouth downturned, his eyebrows arched in surprise.

“Hmm,” he murmurs, his expression unreadable. “Well, we better give the woman what she wants.”

My jaw drops. This is the last thing I expected him to say. “What? No.”

“You heard her. Mama needs her eye candy.” Dylan grins deviously as I shake my head in mortification. At this point, I’m wishing that a strong wind would force me overboard, but he’s already opened the camera app, positioning the phone to capture a selfie of the two of us. “Smile.”

I grimace, then lean into the shot and put on a cheesy grin for Harper’s benefit. He sends the pic and hands me back my phone.

“She’s gonna freak out,” I tell him.

I glance down at it. It’s actually a pretty decent pic of Dylan, his perfect white teeth a stark contrast to his suntanned skin, his right hand forming a peace sign. My eyes catch on the ink adorning his rib cage and I can’t help myself seeking it out in real life.

“What’s this?” I ask, my hand trailing the script as I read the words aloud. “Fortune favours the brave.”

When my gaze drifts upward I find his eyes locked on mine and its then I notice the goosebumps that have formed beneath my fingertips. “It’s just an old saying. You’ve heard of it, right?”

“Yeah,” I say. “But I mean, what does it mean to you?”

He pauses, still looking at me, seemingly contemplating his answer. He opens his mouth to say something, but Cameron’s voice echoes across the boat.

“Dylan!” he calls impatiently. “You wanna come help me out here or what?”

His eyes snap to Cameron somewhere behind me and I draw my hand back, suddenly aware of the heat traveling through my core.

“Duty calls,” he says in a low voice, then with a wink he adds, “You’re gonna get me into trouble, Kenz.”

“Oh, you don’t even know what trouble is yet,” I hit back.

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