Page 115 of Resorting to Romance

I chuckle. He’s not wrong. And Mila has been stressed. What could it hurt? He wants me there. It’s his day.

“Sure. I’ll come. Do you know what time it is?”

“It’s in my backpack.” Noah drops his glove, runs up the stairs, inside the inn, and emerges waving a flyer.

I read the details. Then I text Ben telling him I’ll be out of the office from ten to noon tomorrow.

“You’ve got it, boss man,” I tell Noah. “I’ll come to your class tomorrow.”

“And don’t worry,” he says. “I’ll explain that you’re my Unko.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

My phone rings. Stevens.

I hold up a finger to Noah. “Hey, what’s up?”

“Hey, I’ve got a tour going out. Ben’s here alone so I don’t have a first mate. Want to come out with me?”

“Jamison’s not there?”

“He called in sick. Said he has a fever.”

I guess something’s going around.

“I’ll be right over.”

I hang up and tell Noah. “Hey, I’ve gotta run. I’ll be at your class tomorrow. Okay?”

“Thanks, Unko.”

Noah throws his arms around my waist and I hold him close. I’d do anything for this boy. Brad’s an idiot for letting him go and missing out on this amazing human.

Stevens and I take the tour group out for two hours. We drag a net behind his boat and pull in some sea life. The passengers take turns looking at samples of the water to see microorganisms through a microscope Stevens has on board. Then he takes them on the deck where we allow them to touch and pass around the small marine animals we pulled in and are holding in temporary buckets full of sea water until we release them back into the ocean after the cruise.

Stevens has everyone wash their hands and then immerse them in a bucket of sea water so when we touch the animals we’re covered in the elements of their environment.

After the tour, I stay onboard to help clean up from the tour.

We’re cleaning petri dishes when I look over at my friend. He’s more of a loner than most of us, quiet and thoughtful. He lives up in his head, but he’s got a big heart. I’ve never seen him ruffled or agitated in all the years I’ve lived here.

“Something on your mind?” he asks me.

“What makes you say that?” I ask.

“Either that, or you’re one more person who can’t stop staring at me.”

I chuckle. “Definitely not that.” I release a long breath and then I spill everything. “I’m in a bind, man.”

“What’s up?”

“It’s about Mila.”

Without any hesitation, I explain how we're faking, how my feelings became evident to me, and what happened with Aima this morning.

I know I promised to keep everything between me and Mila secret. I also know Stevens. He’s a bit reclusive and completely trustworthy. Plus, he’s a great friend and a good problem solver. I’m pretty sure he has a genius IQ. I’m desperate for some input after that encounter with Aima. Not to mention the way Mila felt in my arms when we danced at the reception last night—it put a fire under me to push things along with her.

Stevens is quiet, a pensive look on his face as I unload everything about the past two months on him.

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