Page 113 of Reel Love

I pull back and stare down at her. We share a smile.

I bend over her and brush my lips against hers. She clutches the back of my neck and holds me to her. I run my fingertips down her arm and she shivers slightly. Then she pulls away, laughing. I kiss the tip of her nose, her forehead, and then I pepper kisses along the small freckles on the top of her shoulders.

She sighs and hums this sound of contentment. Closing my eyes, I rest my cheek on hers and breathe her in. She smells of sunscreen and saltwater, and there’s a scent that’s all her, like honey and ginger—invigorating and sweet.

I lift away from her, running my hand down her wild curls and looking into her eyes. “I’m serious about you, Alana.”

She smiles up at me. “The feeling is extremely mutual, Stevens. I think I found my person.”

I lay back down on my towel, tugging her with me so her head rests on my chest. We lay like that, in contented silence, with only the sound of the waves gently knocking against the side of the boat, the sound of the gulls, and her head just over my heart.

On the boat ride back to the harbor where I dockSea Ya, Alana surprises me.

“I’ve been thinking.”

I’m at the tiller and she’s sitting with her back against my arm. She’s got her knees bent up and her feet resting out in front of her on the cushioned bench we’re sharing. Her curls are wild from our swim. The wind catches them and blows them around her face at times.

“You’ve been thinking about … ?” I ask.

“Telling your friends about us.”

“Which friends?”

“The guys who were at the barbecue at Summer’s. Those are your closest friends, right?”

“On the island, yeah. They are. And my brother. But I don’t want to tell him yet. That would force him to keep something from Mom. When we decide she can know, you’re going to need a crash helmet and ear plugs.”

She chuckles. “Do you trust those guys who work at watersports for the Alicante?” she asks. “So far I’ve been able to trust them. They’ve never told anyone when I came to a barbecue or hung out on the beach with them.”

“I do trust them.”

“Then I think we should tell them.”

“So, you’re tired of keeping me to yourself?” I lift my free hand and poke just beneath her ribs and she squirms and giggles.

“Stahhhp!” she squeals.

Then she turns and tickles me, making me jiggle the tiller sothat the boat swerves and the sails slack. She grasps onto my shoulders as I right the boat and pull the lines to trim the sails.

“Okay. Okay,” she says once we’re stable. “No tickling the captain.” Then she adds. “... while at sea. Tickling on land is fair game.”

“Is it now?” I ask.

“For me. Fair game for me. I still get a chance at you today since you started it.”

“I’m pretty sure you had your chance just now—as evidenced by our near capsize.”

“I love when you talk all science-y.”

“What did I say that was science-y?”

I’d love to make notes so I can keep saying exactly whatever it is she loves so much.

She makes her voice deep like mine and affects a scholarly tone.

Then she says, “As evidenced by …”

She gives me a coy smile. “It’s hot when you talk like a scientist.”

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