Page 48 of Never Been Shipped

He kissed her. “Okay,” he said. “Then I’m not sorry.”

They were still kissing—slow and languorous and exploratory, almost textbook definitionmaking out—when a throat cleared next to them. “Excuse me,” a man holding a pile of towels said. “I need to get to that door?”

John felt his face heat almost like theyhadbeen caught doing more than just kissing, and he was quick to move away from the alcove, his hand still holding Micah’s.

“Sorry about that,” he said. “Uh, have a good night.”

They were halfway up the stairs toward the next deck before Micah started laughing. “Have a goodnight?” she said.

“What else was I supposed to say?”

“It was thewayyou said it. You sounded so guilty! Remind me never to rob a bank with you.”

“You need a reminder for that?”

She dropped his hand when they finally reached the top deck, which he tried not to read anything into. It was probably best if they flew under the radar with whatever this was between them, and they hadn’t exactly done a bang-up job of being discreet sofar. It was a beautiful night—clear enough to see the stars, a crispness in the air that reminded you that you werealive. They settled up along the rail, looking out over the water.

“Wait, have we already stopped?” Micah said, leaning out a little. “I think I see lights over there.”

“It would make sense,” John said. “If there are excursions leaving first thing tomorrow for swimming with dolphins or whatever else.”

“What time is it even?”

John didn’t know, and he didn’t particularly care. Time on the ship stretched and contracted. He was vaguely aware of being tired, in that pleasant way where you knew you’d fall asleep the second you sank into your bed, but he could’ve also stayed out there with Micah forever.

“Let’s walk to the other side and see if we can make out more of the port,” John suggested.

They strolled along the deck of the ship, and John almost reached for her hand again. Instead, he shoved his hands in his pockets, tilting his head back so he could see the stars. It was hard to believe that only a day had passed since he’d been walking along the deck in a similar way after the Silver Cuties show, except alone and thinking about Micah asleep back in his bed. Their history was so long and this one day felt somehow like the longest part of it.

He could tell she was similarly in her own head as they walked, and he wondered what she was thinking about. But then he didn’t have to wonder, because she took a breath and asked the question that had obviously been on her mind.

“What did you want to talk to me about?” she said. “Back at the shuffleboard game.”

The last thing he wanted to talk about was ElectricOh!, but he couldn’t put it off indefinitely. “The band was discussing a potential reunion tour,” he said. “And wondering if you’d be into it.”

She stopped for a second, looking at him. “A reunion tour.”

John ran his hand through his hair. He really wished he hadn’t agreed to be the person to bring it up with her. For one thing, he knew less about it than anyone else—it hadn’t been his idea.

“I don’t know how it would work,” he said. “Tie it to the anniversary of an album? Play a couple festivals? That’s all the kinds of stuff we could figure out, I guess, but yeah. Get ElectricOh! back together, at least for this one specific purpose.”

She was standing very still, and everything that had felt so open to him only a few minutes ago now seemed totally closed off. “And you want to do it.”

He didn’t know what he wanted. He certainly hadn’t signed on to this cruise with any hope or even desire to get the band back together again. But ithadfelt magical, being back onstage, playing their songs. And if it meant an excuse to see more of Micah, well, that also sounded pretty good to him.

“I think it’s interesting,” he said. “Worth some consideration, at least.”

She pressed her lips together, giving a nod like he really had given her something to think about. But John knew before she even spoke that whatever those thoughts were right now, they weren’t good.

“The band discussed this,” she said. “The four of you. The band. Whose idea was it? Let me guess—Ryder’s?”

Since John hadn’t been present for those initial discussions, he had no idea, but he would put money that Micah was right.Frankie and Steve both seemed satisfied enough with the way their lives were going after ElectricOh!—Frankie had their session work, Steve had his family and his job at Best Buy, and he could see them going along with the idea but not coming to it themselves. Ryder was the one who had a chip on his shoulder about everything and would want a chance to try to rewrite their legacy. Normally, John’s knee-jerk reaction to anything that originated with Ryder was to reject it, but this was such a big decision, he didn’t want to act too rashly.

Some of what he was thinking must’ve shown on his face, because Micah’s eyes narrowed. “He asked you to talk to me, didn’t he? He knew if he tried it I’d just say no. But he knew if it was you…”

John felt something slipping away, but he also knew there was no point in being anything less than honest. “Yes,” he said. “He asked me to talk to you.”

She crossed her arms over her chest, looking out over the water. A strand of her hair was blowing across her eyes, but she didn’t seem to care. “Was that what this was all about?” she asked. “The—what we just did? You figured you could seduce me into going along with it?”

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