Page 60 of Deep In Love
“Do you ever wonder what’s below us?” I ask.
He leans over to watch the water with me, deep blue swirling with the wake of the vessel. Crew members hustle, preparingNeptuneto deploy at our next location, a thousand meters deeper than the last.
There was a brief period when I was ten that any body of water frightened me, but I blame my father, who let me watchAnaconda, which led to fear that snakes would leap out of the water to attack. I would rather face whatever lurks in the deep ocean than a massive, human-consuming snake.
“Scared of the ocean, Blondie?” Jett asks, half bent over the railing, and I seize my opportunity to mess with him. I leap toward him, grab his shoulders, and make a disconcerting sound.
“I’m scared of the creatures lurking in the deep, waiting for their moment to strike. The kraken. Megalodon. Mosasaurus.”
“Those don’t exist.”
“They did,” I respond with a shrug. “We know so little about the bottom of the ocean. Who’s to say they aren’t still down there?”
He steps back from the edge, watching the water like a kraken will appear to drag him down to Davy Jones’s locker.
“Or what if there’s something worse, and we have no idea?”
“There you are,” a deep voice purrs, and my skin pebbles beneath the low timbre. My heartbeat quickens to a sickening pace as Mateo saunters toward Jett and me, two coffees in hand and a knowing smile on his lips.
“Is it true?” Jett asks, meeting Mateo halfway. “We are members of the Brotherhood of Catan, you have to tell me the truth.”
Brotherhood of Catan?
“What am I supposed to tell you?” He stops inches away from me and extends a coffee. “Hi,” he whispers, low and intimate, his free hand caressing my lower back in a possessive touch.
I jerk in surprise from the contact.
Last night I was bold, but this morning, I am a coward who snuck out of our room while the sky was a deep purple to avoid any awkward interactions.
It’s the earliest I’ve woken up by choice in years, but I would rather rise before the crow caws than face Mateo. Last night was a dream—or a weird hallucination—and I was afraid morning would arrive and everything would change. He would take back his words or realize he made a mistake.
I’m not good at these things, understanding cues and subtle hints, evidenced by my ignorance of his feelings, but worse, I struggle to express my emotions in cohesive ways.
My face flushes when Mateo fixes his gaze on me, and the corner of his mouth lifts.
He dips his head to my ear, and his breath dances along my skin as he whispers, “Nervous, bruja?”
“What? N-no.” My voice cracks as his hand slides down my back to palm the globe of my ass, his movements covert as Jett waits for his response.
“Could the kraken exist?” Jett asks impatiently, his voice harboring an undertone of panic. I didn’t think he actually believed my comment.
“¿Qué?” Mateo peers down at me with his brow raised, and I shrug, feigning innocence.
“Blondie said it’s possible since we know so little about the bottom of the ocean.” He peers over the side of the boat. “I did see this documentary about the megalodon that seemed pretty real…”
Mateo’s head tips back in laughter, his Adam’s apple bobbing with mirth. “Blondie,” the nickname rolls off his tongue, “is messing with you.”
Jett whirls on me.
“You jumped to conclusions without the facts,” I say in a saccharine tone.
“You’re my fact machine!”
Shit. He’s got me there. He knows it, too, and I can’t help but laugh when Jett’s toothy grin grows larger.
“They aren’t real. But it would be super cool to ride a mosasaur with a saddle,” I admit.
It was a weird dream I had after a late night. I was riding one like it was a horse, and my hair was windswept seaweed, decorated in opal shells and speaking starfish. Instead of scars, my skin was covered in blue-green iridescent scales.
