Page 24 of Away in a Tentacle Lair
I take a breath, and he puts the regulator back in his mouth. Watching him respect my choice to free dive distracts me from the octopus. Most people think if I need a breath, then I've lost my ability to free dive. If I take one breath from an air tank, they assume I rely on it. It's nice to know he thinks I can manage. As the octopus leaves my hand and disappears into the rock, I turn to Leo and smile.
Has he figured it out yet?
Leo inhales deeply, then offers me a breath I don't really need. Leaving the regulator out, he grabs my hips, pulling me to his mouth. We kiss, our limbs tangling around each other. Our tongues explore each other's mouths as we float weightless and free. Then he pulls away briefly to breathe.
Again and again, he breaks our kiss to breathe, highlighting how long I can manage without oxygen.
It's a kiss of discovery, of silent confessions and unvoiced promises. There's a weightlessness that has nothing to do with being underwater—a sense of floating, untethered, in a space where only we exist. When we part, I’m gasping for air, not from lack of oxygen but from the intensity of this moment between us. He shares his breath with me, exhaling into my mouth. It’s an odd process, and part of me is wary in case I inhale water, but we somehow make it work.
It's playful when I take a deep breath from his offered lifeline, his laughter bubbling through the water, mixing with mine. Our foreheads press together in a silent conversation passing between us. He knows I’m sure of it. He may not completelybelieve what his mind tells him, and that’s okay. Whether Nicholas decides to tell him tomorrow or not, it won’t be a complete shock to him.
We surface, arm in arm, gasping for breath. I’m momentarily blinded by the sun reflecting off the spraying water we displace. It doesn’t matter. I’m in his arms and know everything will be fine.
"Thank you, Kai. For... today." His sincerity washes over me warmer than the afternoon sun.
"Wait until you see Christmas at the Braireus household," I tease, lightening the mood. "It will take your breath away for other reasons."
“I wouldn’t miss it for all the world,” he chuckles, and we swim back to the bay together.
Chapter seventeen
Leo
Istride from the Briareus family home, my head swirling with half-digested info and wild theories. Kai's words about a family curse keep bouncing around in my brain like a beach ball at a summer concert. An octopus, though? Really? I've seen some weird things in the deep blue, but my boyfriend sprouting tentacles pushes the realms of reality.
“Hey, Rowland,” someone in a marine centre T-shirt calls as I enter the hotel.
I look up and give the young woman a wave. I don’t recognise her, but there is a chance I flirted with her in the hope of getting some information. Now, I don’t care about the assignment.
“Are you going to the Christmas party in the centre tomorrow?”
“I’m not sure. My folks want to spend the day with me on Facetime.”
“Sounds like a drag,” she shrugs.
“It might be worth it; I don’t plan to leave the island soon.” I should feel confident about landing the job we’re all desperatefor, but my mind wanders to Kai. He will be why I don’t leave, not the research centre. I don't care about the job any more.
Once in my hotel room, I let out a sigh that could deflate an inflatable raft. I kick off my shoes in record time. I'm peeling off my clothes on my way to the bathroom because if anyone needs a good scrub, it's this guy who might be dating an actual mollusc.
The shower welcomes me like the warm embrace of a tropical current. Water washes over me, and for a moment, I close my eyes and just breathe in the steamy serenity. Can love look past limbs...or lack thereof? The thought of Kai, with his sun-kissed skin and those eyes, so deep and blue, makes my heart do somersaults worthy of a dolphin show.
"Okay, Leo," I mutter, "so he might get a bit... tentacley. That's cool, right?" Love is love, I preach to the row of shampoo bottles before chuckling.
Warm water runs down my back, tracing paths like the coastal lines I've studied on maps. So what if Kai does turn into an octopus?
So what if my compass points to unexplored territories in love and species? I've navigated trickier waters, haven't I? Besides, Kai's laugh alone could calm the most tumultuous seas. And those moments when he looks at me as if I'm the only other person on this planet who has to count for something more than a human or an octopus.
After my shower, I wrap the fluffy towel around my middle and flop on the edge of the large bed. Grabbing the remote, I call up the Wildlife Channel and find something on demand about octopuses.
I'm transfixed by the creature's dance on the screen; each movement is deliberate, almost mindful. There's an elegance to its fluidity that reminds me of Kai—the way he moves with quiet confidence as if he knows every current and eddy of life itself.His secrets now seem less like barriers and more like... depths to be explored.
"Maybe being part octopus isn't the weirdest thing," I muse aloud, tilting my head. "I mean, they're intelligent, resourceful. Three hearts give them a massive capacity for love and help keep his brain oxygenated while holding his breath. Although I’ve got no evidence to suggest he has any octopus parts in his human form.
But it's not just the quirks and astonishing biological feats that capture me—it's something more profound. As the documentary narrator extols the virtues of octopus adaptability and loyalty, I see Kai in every word. Love, after all, isn't confined to the shape of your body; it's about the connection that pulses beneath, as constant as the tides.
A decisive warmth spreads through me as if I've been sunbathing on the deck of a research vessel. It's time to stop treading water. I grab my phone from the side table and video call my parents. I want to share my good news with them.
"Hey, Mum, Dad," I begin the moment they answer.
