Page 41 of Fake Dating Adrian Hunter
Adrian knocks on my door. “You almost done in there?”
“I might stay in here forever,” I answer, rubbing sunscreen over my cheeks.
“Most people are in the water. No one will see you.”
You will see me, I feel like saying.
“I’ll give you to the count of three before I jimmy the lock.”
“Ugh, fine. Let’s get this over with.” I rush out of the changing room and race for the water. If I jump into the ocean fast enough, Adrian won’t get a good look at me in this wetsuit.
He was right. When I arrive at the back deck, barely anyone is left on board. People are scattered all throughout the water. Some are close by, swimming among a gazillion fish while Ernie throws fish food overboard. Others have already become little dots in the distance, snorkeling out by the reef. Now’s my chance to jump into the ocean before Adrian catches up to me, but I can’t make myself do it, not with all the potential stingers.
Adrian runs by me in a blur and bomb-dives straight into a school of fish. They’re not tiny fish either, and block out the view of his body as they swim around him to gobble up food. All that’s visible of Adrian is his head poking out of the sea, grinning up at me.
“Come on, Vee. The water is beautiful. Get in here with me.”
“No way.” I project my voice. “Those fish are freakishly big.”
“The fish are too concerned about food to notice us.”
“Maybe, but they still scare me. I’m fine staying on this boat.”
“Verena.”
“You said it yourself—I’m a shiny, pretty thing. I don’t belong in the water with all these slimy and deadly animals. What if a jellyfish stings my face?”
“Shiny, pretty things belong with me, and I’m in the water.”
When I don’t smile at Adrian’s joke, he swims up to the yacht, resting his elbows on the ledge. All humor disappears from his voice. “Vee, you’re seriously afraid of getting in the water?”
“Yes.”
“Come closer so we don’t have to speak as loud.”
“No, you’ll pull me in.”
“I promise I won’t.”
I sigh and step up to the ledge, kneeling beside Adrian.
“Let’s take this in baby steps. Will you sit down and dangle your legs in the water?”
I consider all the risks involved with Adrian’s suggestion, but give into him, knowing that with my wetsuit on, my feet will be the only vulnerable part of my body—a fair sacrifice. I shiver as the cool water seeps through the wetsuit, dampening high up my thighs.
“Well done,” Adrian says. “We can stay at this stage for as long as you need.”
“I’m still not getting into the water.”
He takes my right leg in one hand and a flipper in the other. Before I can ask what he’s doing, he places the flipper on my foot like I’m Cinderella, then does the same to my other foot. Something about the delicate way he holds my legs, even after both flippers are on, seems so intimate. He doesn’t let go of me. I don’t want him to either.
“Now most of your feet are protected,” he says.
“I’m still not getting in.”
Adrian takes my hand in his, weaving our fingers. I almost forget how to breathe, staring down at our hands. I’m not sure what his touch means. We’ve been touching like this all day, on show for Jake, Isabelle, and our families. But now, everyone around us is preoccupied with the water. Not a single pair of eyes remain focused on us. This between us right now is real. He’s not being nice to me for show. The only issue is I can’t figure out if his touch is a gesture of friendship or something more.
It can’t be more. Adrian wants Isabelle, not me.
