Page 110 of Reel Love

It’s been over two days since we kissed and I feel the absence even more acutely when our mouths connect. Her kiss comforts me and fuels my desire for more of her. She’s unattainable, and yet somehow mine. She kisses me like she’s coming home to me. And I lay out the welcome mat. She’s soft and vulnerable, and the way she trusts me translates into our kiss. I take charge, telling her without words that I’m here for her, that what we have runs deep enough to weather separations and all that lies ahead, whatever that entails.

Alana cups my jaw. Her hand drifts slowly down my neck until she’s gripping my T-shirt at the shoulder and humming softly into our kiss.

“You.” She pulls back, looping her arms loosely over my shoulders and looking up at me.

“Me?” My tone is playful as I look to my right and then my left.

“Yes, you. Finding you has been such a pleasant surprise. To think, all this time you were right here.”

“I wouldn’t change it.”

“Why?” Her head rears back. “Wouldn’t you rather we had days like this for the past six months, or even longer?”

“I would. But I don’t think that would have been the way it would have happened. You needed to get to know me. The timing was perfect. We had six months of progressive flirting and banter. Six months of you getting used to me beating you at board games. It all led us here.”

She smirks at my comment about beating her, and then she nods once. “Maybe. I still would have liked being able to kiss you and sit with you over meals, going out in your boat when we could, spending our spare hours together. I would have loved to have all of that a lot sooner than now.”

“The past is behind us. We have one another now.”

“True.” She considers my words. “Well, then take me on an adventure, merman.”

I smile at the quasi-nickname.

“You’re going to learn to sail today.”

“I’m going to sail. Have you seen me drive a motorboat?”

“I saw. And I think you’ll get the hang of this too. It’s a little more complicated, but we’ll be fine.”

“Your faith in me is admirable. And also insane. There’s a fine line between genius and insanity, you know. And I think you just crossed it.”

I chuckle. “I’ll be right there with you.”

“Do I get to lean into you, like on Joel’s boat?”

“If that’s what you want. You can even sit in my lap.”

“Deal.” She smiles at me.

Maybe I am insane. I’d do anything for her. Especially if thereward is a smile like that—one just for me. And it’s not because she’s Alana Graves. That’s the smallest detail to me now. It’s her—her laugh, her thoughtfulness, her dry sense of humor, the way she watches me, this innate connection we’ve had since we started regularly seeking one another out onPlay on Words. It’s like we knew, even then. We knew.

“So this is your boat.” She waves her hands around as I lower the engine into the water.

“Yep. One of two. I have this one,Sea Ya.And my trawler,Catching Wishes.”

“Two boats. Impressive. What’s the other one like?”

I pull the cord, the engine revs to life and I back us out of the slip.

“She’s a trawler. And she smells like fish.”

Alana laughs. It’s that musical laughter I love.

“She’s the one I use for tours.”

“She. Why do sailors call their ships women?”

“Because our ships take care of us the way a woman nurtures a boy. And then we care for them the way we care for a woman.”

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