Page 55 of Forking the Billionaire

I was completely content to hang out with Gabriel. I was completely content that Ziggy the musician was our guide, because he seemed to be doing an adequate job, and he hadn’t actually given me any good reason not to like him yet. I was completely content not interacting with Esme.

I was a blade of seaweed.

Ziggy gestured too enthusiastically, pointing like he was trying to jab someone’s eye out. A small turtle lazily flapped its flippers as it glided by, effortlessly manifesting the level of chill I was striving for.

We followed his lead and surfaced.

“Green sea turtles are endangered, so we’re exceptionally fortunate to spot one today,” he said.

We went back down under the water.

From the corner of my eye, I caught a glimmer of orange. Heat rose up the back of my neck. My muscles stiffened. It was her.

Unable to ignore her any longer, I lifted my face from the water once more, and spotted Esme. Her long hair floated around her like a lion’s mane. A smattering of freckles decorated her pale shoulders.

She glided effortlessly through the water, pausing to inspect the reef. She tilted her head toward a small hole carved into the coral like she’d found something interesting inside.

When she looked back up, she caught my eye and gave a little wave before continuing on.

I wasn’t sure if I was relieved or disappointed that that was the extent of our interaction. Maybe both.

“Angelfish are very territorial, so they might give you a little nip if you get too close,” Ziggy said, but Esme had completely captured my attention and his words felt hollow and distant.

I dropped back down under the water and watched her swim.

Her fluorescent pink two-piece swimsuit left little to the imagination, tracing the contours of her body. I tried not to stare. I tried not to notice.

It was impossible not to appreciate the curve of her small breasts or the slight flare of her hips or the expanse of bare flesh in between, even though I had no right. How many freckles did she have on her stomach? Her thighs? I wanted to map them like the stars, tracing a finger from one to the next. Would she gasp when I touched her, sear me with her dark eyes, or part her lips and lean into my hand?

I couldn’t not stare at her. My only option was to lift my head out of the water and close my eyes.

“Everyone can spread out a bit, but remember if you lose sight of the group, we return to our spot on the beach,” Ziggy said. “And for safety, we always adhere to the buddy system.”

Someone tapped me on the shoulder. I opened my eyes and turned. Esme’s head was out of the water, her sunset hair hanging flat against the sides of her face.

“Come on,buddy,”she said. “Let’s make this interesting.”

“You don’t find snorkeling interesting?” I asked, pretending I didn’t know she was trying to bait me.

“I’m just saying it could bemoreinteresting.”

I should shut this down right here and now. Even with her face obscured by a mask and snorkel, I could see a glint of mischief in her eyes. I flexed my fingers and ignored the warning siren going off in the back of my head. “How so?”

“A little competition, obviously. I’m going to find more lionfish than you.”

Before I could respond, she ducked her head back under and kicked away.

With a single sentence, she’d transported me over a decade into the past, to when she used to turn everything into a competition. I’d always hated it when we were kids. I always preferred being on the same team, after the same goals, instead of constantly butting heads. But we weren’t kids anymore.

This was the first time she’d started a competition with me since I arrived on the island. It surprised me to realize that after dreading this exact thing, I didn’t feel tense or upset. I was intrigued.

I took off after her. A warm sensation bubbled up from the pit of my stomach and spread through my chest like a gentle tide. I scanned the reef below for any sign of lionfish, but my attention was split, following the wild twists and turns Esme took in the water.

Like everything else she did, Esme swam in the most over-the-top way possible. She somehow made flailing look graceful, and ridiculously adorable.

I tried to focus on her game. The bold stripes and spiky fins of the lionfish made them easy to spot. I kept a mental tally.

Suddenly, Esme shot up to the surface. I followed.

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