Page 36 of Below the Barrel

“I just…wanted to see where the water was coming from,” I admit, my voice a little shaky. There’s something about thisplace that feels otherworldly, almost magical, and I can’t help but be drawn to it.

Koa steps closer, his arm brushing against mine again, sending another wave of heat through my body. “You really shouldn’t wander off. What if you get lost?”

I scoff, trying to hide the way my pulse quickens whenever he’s near. “I’m not a kid, Koa. I can handle myself.”

But even as I say the words, I realize how much I’ve come to rely on his presence—especially in moments like this, when everything feels a little too big, a little too overwhelming. And of course, he picks up on that.

He smirks, leaning in slightly. “Are you sure about that? Because from where I’m standing, it looks like you’re pretty rattled.”

Before I can snap back at him, the narrow passage opens up into another chamber. This one smaller, more intimate, with a crystal-clear pool of water at its centre. The trickling sound I heard earlier comes from the water gently dripping off the rocks above, creating small ripples in the otherwise still surface.

“Wow,” I breathe, momentarily forgetting Koa’s teasing. The pool glows faintly, reflecting the pale light from the rocks. It’s beautiful, serene, like something out of a dream.

“Not bad, huh?” Koa says, his voice softer now, less playful. He steps up beside me, and for a moment, we just stand there in silence, taking it all in.

The atmosphere in the cave feels different here—calmer, quieter. The tension between us, though still there, seems to ease a little, replaced by something else. Something softer.

“Sometimes,” Koa says after a moment, his voice barely above a whisper, “you just have to let go and trust that everything will work out.”

I glance at him, my heart skipping a beat. There’s something in his tone, in the way he’s looking at me, that makes my chest tighten. He’s not talking about the cave anymore.

And maybe…maybe he’s right. Maybe it’s time to stop holding back, to stop being so afraid of what might happen again. I’ve been running from my feelings for him for so long, but here, in this quiet, magical place, it feels impossible to keep pretending.

I take a deep breath, the cool air filling my lungs, and before I can second-guess myself, I speak, “Koa, I?—”

But before I can finish, the rest of the group calls out to us, their voices echoing through the cave. The spell is broken, and the moment slips away.

Koa smiles, that teasing glint back in his eyes. “Come on. We should catch up before they think we got lost.”

I nod, my heart still racing as we turn around to rejoin the group. But even as we walk away from the pool, the feeling lingers—that unmistakable shift between us. No matter how much I try to fight it, I know there’s no going back now.

THIRTEEN

KOA |TAVARUA, FIJI

After the longday of activities, my muscles are sore, and I can tell by the way Maliah keeps flexing her shoulders that she’s feeling the same. I almost whimper in pleasure when I realize the cave tour ends with a spa. The production crew directs us towards the mud spa area, where a nearby hot spring has steam rising from the mud pools, a calming scent of lavender and eucalyptus drifting through the air. I notice Maliah eyeing the mud bath with equal parts curiosity and hesitation and I can’t hold back my grin.

“Come on,” I say, nudging her shoulder. “You’ve already faced your fear of heights today. A little mud isn’t going to hurt you.”

She rolls her eyes, but I catch the smile she tries to hide. We both grab robes and towels from the attendants before heading to the changing rooms. By the time we come out, the sun is starting to dip lower in the sky, casting a warm golden light over everything.

Maliah sits on the edge of the mud pool, her toes dipping into the warmth, testing it out. I take a seat beside her, watching as she gets used to the temperature. She leans forward slightly andslides in, so I follow right behind her, feeling the soft, warm mud squish under my feet as I lower myself in.

She sighs, closing her eyes as she sinks into the mud, clearly enjoying herself. “Okay, I’ll admit,” she says, “this is pretty nice.”

“Told you.” I smirk, leaning back and letting the warmth seep into my muscles.

We sit like this for a few minutes, just enjoying the quiet sounds of nature and the heat, but I can’t resist reaching over, grabbing a handful of mud, and slowly smearing it along her upper arm. Her skin is soft under my fingers, and I feel the subtle tremor as my touch lingers just a moment too long. She opens one eye to look at me, raising an eyebrow.

“You really want to start that?” she asks, her voice dripping with playful challenge.

I grin. “Why not? It’s part of the experience, right?”

She rolls her eyes but grabs her own handful of mud, smearing it along my arm in return. We go back and forth like this for a minute, the mood light and easy, until I smear some along her shoulder and down her back, my fingers lingering on her skin for just a little longer than necessary.

“You know,” I say softly as I rub the mud across her shoulders, “I’ve been thinking about what you said before. About starting your own bakery.”

She tenses a little under my touch but doesn’t pull away. “Yeah?”

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