Page 11 of Rock of Stages
I groaned. “Long story. Band stuff.” Then I quickly told her about Angus. “Enough about him,” I finished, not wanting to waste any more words than necessary on that slick egomaniac. “I want to hear about you. Where you live. What it’s like. With whom?”
Her gaze shifted downward, taking the corners of her mouth with her. “With my pod.”
“Merpeople?” I questioned.
“Yes.” She turned her gaze toward the sea. “Our pod lives near coral, brimming with sea life. And it’s swimming distance from an island, which I’ve explored a half-dozen times—despite numerous warnings about land-walkers.”
“Meaning…” I pointed to myself. “Someone like me.”
“Right.” She nodded. “Anyone who lives above the ocean.”
“Ah,” I said, the differences between us growing vaster. “Is someone going to be upset you’re gone?”
She bit her lower lip. “Sure. My father.” She grimaced. “He’s the king of our pod and always scolding me for exploring too far and for too long.”
I followed her gaze outward. “You must be far from home?”
She nodded. “Many, many miles away by now.”
As she told me more about her world under the sea, her eyes brimmed with wistfulness. A pang of guilt hit me square in the chest. “Oh. I shouldn’t have asked you to come onboard, should I?”
“No.” She reached across the table and brushed my arm. “I wanted to. I heard music and followed the sound, curious. To see where it was coming from. Who was playing. I wanted to hear more of it—yourmusic.”
A strange delight rippled through me again at her praise. “Do you need to go back soon?” I hated the words as soon as they left my mouth.
She didn’t answer right away but then nodded slowly. “I should…”
A bolt of panic shot through me at the thought of her leaving, but the hesitancy in her voice gave me a sliver of hope. I reached for her hand. “Stay a little longer,” I pleaded.
She brought her gaze back to me, capturing me in her magnificent eyes. “Okay.”
After we ate,I took her hand as we explored the nightlife on the ship. When we passed the entrance to the casino with all its lights and pinging noises, she stopped and gaped.
“What the sweet coral is that?” Her voice had a wondrous edge.
“Casino,” I grumbled. “Place where people gamble their money and lose. The house always wins.”
“The house?” She turned to me with a questioning glance.
“It just means that it might be fun to play, but you’ll probably kiss your money goodbye. Don’t go overboard thinking you’ll walk away richer. That’s about as likely as me sprouting gills and fins.”
She nodded while seemingly entranced by the colorful machines, blinking buttons, and the clattering coins.
“Oh no, we have a live one,” I joked.
Naiya turned to me with delight. “Can we go in?”
I couldn’t deny her anything when she looked at me like that. “Come on. Let’s see if you have some beginner’s luck.”
She didn’t—not even a lick of luck. We’d churned through coins on the slot machines, but damn, it was worth every cent. I’d never had more fun in the casino, watching her delight as she pulled the lever, wide-eyed with anticipation. She beamed with delight even if she only had two objects match and lost.
I’d never met anyone like her. She was curiosity, excitement, and sunshine—the opposite of my grumbling, stone-hearted self. And I was completely hooked.
After we’d burned through our remaining coins, we walked back outside for some fresh air. The deck was quiet this late at night, and the crowds had thinned. A warm breeze rolled in, tinged with the salty sea scent, and Naiya tilted her face toward it like she was greeting an old friend.
She leaned over the railing, her silvery-blonde hair with the blue tips dancing in the wind. The moon cast a subtle glow over her, making her look even more ethereal. Like she belonged to the stars as much as the sea. I couldn’t tear my eyes away.
“The ocean is so mysterious from this angle,” she whispered. “Different but…beautiful.”
