“We’ll keep our mouths shut,” Logan said. “Scout’s honor.”
“Scout’s honor?” Tom’s tone turned friendly and teasing. “Please. You think a compass is a fashion accessory.”
Night tangled in Logan’s grin. “Why would I need a compass if my phone points the way?”
“You know,” Nia said, “some of us remember a time when maps didn’t talk.”
I slung an arm around her shoulders. “That’s okay, babe. You have many redeeming qualities.”
“Like the power to hand me a beer,” Tom put in. “We all know divers must stay hydrated.”
“Smooth.” Laughter was tucked into Nia’s voice. “So, beer for you. Logan, Milo—beer or a spiced rum toddy?”
“Is that like a hot toddy, but with rum?” Logan asked. “I think I saw it on the bar menu.”
Nia nodded. “It’s the Caribbean twist, yeah. Keep the honey, lime, and hot water, but replace whiskey with rum and add some spices like cinnamon and cloves.”
“Sounds delicious,” Logan said. “Sign me up.”
“And one for me,” I said with a squeeze of Nia’s shoulder. “I’ll help.”
”Nah, it’s okay—go take a look at your pictures. I know you’re dying to see what you got.”
She was right. I had high hopes for the octopus, and there was also a shot I’d taken right as we’d gone down—the last slices of sunlight had penetrated the water in golden beams that illuminated the corals below.
“Thank you.”
“Then I’ll help,” Tom said easily. “But only if there’s one for me too.”
“Deal.” Nia set off for the wheelhouse, waving for Tom to follow, while I sat down near the back of the boat and opened the camera app on my phone. I’d expected Logan to join Tom and Nia, so I was surprised when he lingered. In sweatpants and a loose T-shirt that advertised some indie band, the details of his features lost to the darkness, he seemed more college boy than rich kid. Something about his stance suggested hesitation.
“What’s up?” I asked him.
He shifted to the balls of his feet. “I wanted to apologize. For earlier.”
I reviewed the last hour along with our dive this morning. Did he mean his underwater antics with Tom, or putting me on the spot about the picture Katie apparently had in her shop? I started the camera transfer to my phone before I gave him my full attention. “What do you mean?”
“For overstepping.”
“Overstepping?”
“Flirting.” His gaze spun to meet mine, voice low even as his words picked up speed. “I didn’t mean to put you in an awkward position. It wasn’t… No hard feelings, right? I wasn’t thinking.”
Okay, so… huh?
I crossed my legs at the ankle and leaned back against the side of the boat. “You didn’t overstep.”
“I didn’t?” He sounded deeply skeptical. “You kind of scrambled.”
Because you’re way out of my league.
Yeah, I wasn’t about to admit that I wanted him. Not like ‘holy shit, you drive me crazy’ kind of want, just… casual appreciation. Objectively, he might be the hottest guy I’d seen off-screen, but I wasn’tthatshallow. Although, truth be told, I was starting to like him, too.
No matter.
“You’re a guest,” I said instead. “Which means that you’re the one on vacation, and I’m the one making sure you enjoy it. That’s the hierarchy of resort life.”
For a second, Logan didn’t move. Then he sat down next to me on the bench, about an arm’s length of space between us. Light from the wheelhouse glinted along the edge of his profile, his thoughtful voice blending into the night and the gentle lapping of waves against the boat. “What if I told you I didn’t care?”