Page 56 of Forking the Billionaire

Cold air prickled the hair on the back of my neck. I breathed and stared at her, caught in her spell.

The stakes of this silly competition for her were Olympic-level. I could feel it all around us. What would she do if I lied and told her I’d seen more than she had? Would she wrestle me here in the water?

“On three, show me with your fingers how many you saw. Same time so I know you’re not cheating.”

“You think I’d cheat?”

“On three.”

Her intensity made my chest feel tight.

“One. Two.” She waited until she saw me complying before saying, “Three.”

She held up eight fingers. I held up five.

Her eyes crinkled triumphantly behind her mask. “It’s like you’re not even trying, Graffiti Surfer Ken.”

She was right. If I was smart, I’d blow her off and swim back toward the group to find Gabriel. If I was smart, I wouldn’t let myself get drawn into the blackhole that was Esme’s orbit.

Once I was close, it was impossible to break free. But the ache in my chest and the thrill pumping through my veins made it clear I’d already missed my window.

“Best two out of three,” I said, despite myself.

“You're on,” she called back, already swimming away. “Most colorful fish. Go.”

We both scoured the reef, trying to spot the gaudiest creature. This time I was completely swept up in the game. I was all in.

Esme navigated the reef searching for a time before pointing out a pastel rainbow parrotfish.

I shook my head at her choice.

She gestured with her hands and glared, daring me to do better.

But I already had. I circled back to an area she’d overlooked. And I pointed to the vibrant wrasse that she had zero chance of besting. The neon red, orange, and violet scales were unquestionably the brightest.

She emerged to the surface first, likely to try and proclaim herself the victor, when I had clearly won this round.

I popped up beside her. We were surrounded by jutting rocks, with the sounds of our group fading to a distant murmur. It felt like a different world, like there was only Esme and me and the strange energy sparking in the air between us.

“I won.” Esme pulled her mask up onto her forehead.

The stubborn set to her jaw and the intensity in her eyes made my heart ache and my throat thick.

It took me a moment before I responded. “No chance.”

Later I’d try to explain all of this away, I was sure. When there was distance between us, it would be easy to rationalize this strange draw as a fluke. But with only inches between us, the moment felt never-ending and the past and the future felt like different lives.

Water dripped down her face, over the freckles on her nose, down her cheeks and her neck.

“The yellow and blue on your fish were bright, sure,” I said. “But you said colorful, and my fish had more colors.”

“I’m the master of the ocean,” she said, as if that was somehow a real argument.

She always had to be the master of everything, or queen, emperor, or conqueror, depending on the situation.

“Admit it,” she said, moving closer.

There was only a tiny bit of space left between us. I kept my arms pinned to my sides. I needed to pull back. My hands were shaking. I needed to move away from her before I did something I’d regret like allowing her to wrestle me in the water to win my submission.

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