Page 108 of Friend Me

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On a boatfull of happy drunks, it was hard to find a spot to be alone. After Tyler’s minute had stretched to two, then three, then five, I’d slunk away and settled on a deserted upper deck with just enough room for a few wooden benches exposed to the moon, the stars, and the wind.

I huddled on a bench with my feet up, my arms curled around my shins, and my chin resting on my knees. My hair, torn free from its French twist, flew around my head except where it stuck to the wetness on my face.

No wonder the boat had been easy to reserve on short notice: it was bone-chillingly cold out on the water in December. And now I was stuck. We’d been cruising for only an hour and a half, maybe two—no way to tell with my phone in my bag down below—so I was trapped on the ship for at least two more. Shivering in the wintry cold. At least passing out from hypothermia would end my private pity party.

Not that I deserved release. No, from the way I’d acted over the past three months—hell, the past three years—I’d earned every miserable minute. I’d been unwilling to see what was real, and now fate, Karma, whatever, had called me out on it.

I hugged my legs and shuddered. The stinging wind slapped my cheeks and made my eyes water. No, I was done deluding myself: they were tears. Tears of loneliness and heartbreak. Tyler would move to Austin, and I’d stay in my solitary apartment.Maybe I should get a cat.No, it would probably hate me, too, the way Tigger had. Even a creature with a brain the size of a walnut knew better than to love me.

At least on the upper deck, I could see the stars. I turned my gaze to Orion. He’d chased a girl who didn’t love him, and her angry father had stabbed out his eyes. My one-sided crush on Cooper had kept me from seeing Tyler, who might have cared for me. Once. Not anymore.

I tracked across the sky from Orion to Perseus and Andromeda. Seeing the lovers usually gave me comfort, but tonight, their happiness punched me in the gut. Not every girl chained to a rock had a handsome hero to rescue her from a monster attack. No, in real life, if the girl couldn’t slip her own bonds, the monster got her. And even if she did manage to escape, there was no guarantee she wouldn’t screw up the relationship with the handsome hero who came her way.

Something heavy hit the ladder behind me. For a second, I hoped it was just a happily drunk partygoer who’d toppled into it. But, no, the clunks continued in a rhythm. Footsteps. Someone was coming up and would find me with mascara and snot running down my face. I swiped under my nose.

Wind-tousled hair came into view over the edge of the deck. One more rung, and moonlight glinted off a pair of glasses.

Tyler.

Great. He’d chosen my spot to hide out in, too. I supposed it was big enough for two to sulk.

I cleared my throat as a warning. Surely he’d reverse when he saw who occupied the space. But he didn’t; his shoulders emerged over the rim. He was stronger than I was, and I didn’t mean physically. He’d be able to walk past me, as he’d have to do to reach the other side of the upper deck, probably without even glancing at me. More hot tears rose, ready to betray me as a pathetic jerk who hadn’t known my own heart and didn’t deserve the love of this man. I rotated on the bench so I faced away from the ladder and wiped at my cheeks with shaky palms. Looking up toward the zenith, I found the familiar pattern of Pisces.

Tyler’s solid body settled next to me, close enough that I could smell his citrusy, outdoorsy scent and feel the warmth radiating off him. I refused to look at him; I had enough vanity left that I didn’t want him to see my red, mascara-smudged eyes. My teeth rattled together.

“Are you cold?” he asked.

I didn’t trust my voice to speak, but I nodded.

He left my side for a few seconds, and then something heavy and scratchy settled on my shoulders. Nowhere near as wonderful as the jacket he’d lent me at the wedding, warm from his body and soaked in his scent. But it blocked the wind. I pulled it tighter around myself. Eyes still upturned, I cleared my throat and said, “Is that some magic they teach you in Texas? Conjuring blankets out of thin air?”

“No,” he said, chuckling. “The benches up here have them stored inside.”

I hazarded a look, and, sure enough, there was a hinge on the seat where I perched. I rolled my shoulders, trying to ease the tension the shivering had worked into my body.

“What are we looking at?” he asked.

I glanced at him. His gaze was fixed on the star-spattered sky.

“I was looking at Pisces.” I wiggled a hand out from under the blanket to point. “That big square is Pegasus. And then below it, there’s a small pentagon. That’s the head of one fish. There are two, connected by the tails. You can follow that string of stars down to the bright one—Alpha Piscium, it’s a double star—and then back up—”

He interrupted me. “I know Pisces.”

I looked at it again, and the pattern clicked into place. “Your tattoo! On your shoulder.”

“Yeah.” He was silent for a minute. “My high school swim team all got tattoos together. I guess I had water on the brain, so I decided to get my astrological sign.”

“Really? Me, too. I’m February twenty-first.”

“March fifteenth.”

“So we’re both dreamers.”

“Romantics,” he said.

We sat in silence for a minute. Under the blanket, I shivered.

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