Page 68 of Falling Overboard

“Seasick?”

I couldn’t tell him the actual reason why I was suddenly dizzy, so I just nodded.

He let out a little laugh and gazed at me like he thought I was adorable. “Working on a yacht when you get seasick is like being afraid of heights and becoming a pilot.”

Then he released me and I fanned my face with my hand, trying to cool down. Why was I not used to him yet? Why did my face flush every time he touched me?

“Is it bad to say I feel sorry for the groom?” he asked over his shoulder, unaware of my predicament. “I’m pretty sure she’s going to wipe him out in the inevitable divorce. Maybe we should start a GoFundMe for his legal fees.”

“This is supposed to be a once-in-a-lifetime event, and it’s sad that the bridal party isn’t going to have any good memories from this trip.”

“Once in a lifetime? Statistics disagree,” he said.

I shook my head at his joke. “When the world elects me as the Supreme Leader, I’m going to outlaw weddings because they turn normal people into frothing psychopaths.”

He came back into the laundry room. “You don’t want to get married?”

“I don’t know if I can see myself doing it. My parents and my grandparents had really happy marriages, so I know it’s possible, but it seems like this mythical thing that only a few people actually get to experience. I only fall for men who have an allergy to it. I think I might consider it if I did meet the right person, but it seems like it only happens to a lucky few.”

“Then I guess it’s a good thing you have the name that you do. Like I said, it only takes once.”

I sucked in a deep breath, wanting to ignore what it seemed like he was insinuating. “What about you?” I asked in a too-bright voice.

“‘Commitment’ is not a four-letter word in my family. I come from a long line of disgustingly happy and in-love couples, and so yeah, I imagine I’ll get married. Someday.”

It felt surreal to be having this conversation with him. Especially because my brain was frantically envisioning a beach wedding with him starring as the groom.

Hunter turned to shut the door behind him. Alarmed, I started toward him. I wasn’t sure what I was going to do but I had to keep him from seeing the list.

But I wasn’t fast enough.

“What’s this?” he asked.

I ran through various untruths in my head but realized two things simultaneously—the first, that it wouldn’t do me any good because it was self-explanatory and the almost lawyer would figure it out, and second, and probably more importantly, I didn’t want to lie to him.

“It’s a competition. To see who can kiss slash hook up slash fool around with the most crewmembers,” I said.

It was the first time I’d seen the list since I’d initially found it. There were various handwritten points listed next to everyone’s names.

Even François’s. Ew. Which one of them had kissed him?

The wordstripperhad been written in, crossed out, and rewritten again probably a dozen times.

But there were absolutely zero points next to Hunter’s name.

“Are you a part of this?” he asked, sounding highly suspicious.

“No!” Had I said that too forcefully? I modulated my voice. “I mean, no. I’m not. This is just Georgia and Emilie’s thing.”

He looked relieved.

Why would he be relieved by that?

“You know, Kai mentioned some competition. I just didn’t realize it was like this. And I’m part of it?”

“They’re both pretty determined to score from you.”

“That won’t happen.”

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