Page 80 of Sharkbait
“No.” He brushes the hair out of my eyes. “I was hoping for a kiss though. What do you think?”
“Just a kiss?” I say.
“Just a kiss.”
When his lips touch mine, it feels like coming home.
Like there was a reason I threw caution to the wind and fell into his arms all those months ago.
Like there might just be some kind of future for us.
At that exact moment, another party boat floats by and releases fireworks into the sky.
James rests his forehead on mine and laughs softly.
“Let me guess. Synchronocity?” I say.
He gives a knowing shrug. “Could be. You tell me.”
I answer in the only way I can.
I kiss him again.
Chapter Nineteen
Louise
I spend the next few days at the aquarium floating on a cloud.
For the first time in months, I don’t try to get James out of my head. I let every sweet memory of our impromptu date play on repeat in my mind.
The way he kissed me in the car on the ride home every time we hit a red light.
The way he held my hand as he walked me to my door.
The fact that he didn’t seem put out in the least when I told him I would not be inviting him inside. That was a hard one for me, but it was the right thing to do.
The whole evening was surprisingly wholesome for two people who essentially met while—as Mabel would call it—raw dogging in a refrigerator.
As has become my routine over the past six weeks, as soon as my aquarium shift ends, I put my staff badge in my locker, hop on a city bus, and scarf down a sandwich on the quick ride to UPenn.
So far, I’m loving all my classes. The workload is intense and the hours I’m maintaining are brutal, but it will all be worth it when I get that internship and I’m living the life in the Florida Keys, working side by side with Corbin Bellows and being a part of his coral conservation team.
Right?
I still haven’t heard back about my application though, and I can’t decide if I should be worried.
Who am I kidding? I’m worried. I’m a worrier. It’s what I do.
When I hop off the bus by the Arts and Sciences building, I decide to check my email before going inside. The aquarium has strict rules about keeping our phones out of view of the guests, so I haven’t checked it since this morning.
“Yes! Oh my God yes!” I scream when my inbox shows that Corbin’s team has messaged me.
A flock of pigeons scatter, and a group of students give me the collective stink eye.
“Sorry!” I shout. “An email I’ve been waiting for just arrived and—” Why am I explaining myself to these people? “Whatever. Sorry for screaming. Have a blessed day!”
Have a blessed day? Who the hell am I right now?
