Page 22 of The No Falling Rule
When we surface again, the rush of air fills my lungs, and I feel… renewed, recharged. It’s a strange sensation, but I like it.
“That was amazing, babe,” I blurt without thinking.
The word hangs between us, floating like one of the bubbles rising from the reef. My stomach flips—did I really just say that? But then Diego grins, and it’s not teasing or smug. Just soft. Warm.
“And there’s more—come on, let’s go,” he says, grinning wide enough to rival the sun.
We continue to explore the reef, swimming over vibrant coral gardens and schools of fish that shimmer like confetti.
After a while, my legs start to ache. I don’t think I’ve swam—or exercised, let’s be honest—this much in my life. But I don’t want to go; I feel like we’ve only just arrived.
“Babe, look,” I call out as a sea turtle drifts past us.
I want to reach out and touch it, but I know better. Wild animals deserve respect.
“That’s a leatherback turtle,” Diego says.
It moves slowly, gliding through the water like it’s known peace all its life. I envy that—moving throughthe world without fear. Diego’s fingers brush mine as we both watch it disappear into the blue, and something in my chest unclenches. Maybe this is what peace feels like.
“How do you know that? That’s so cool.” My voice comes out softer than I expect, still caught in the spell of the moment.
“I know things—and seal deals,” he deadpans.
I burst out laughing, water splashing between us. “Oh my God, you’re so cheesy,” I say, wrapping my arms around his neck.
His hands slide around my waist, and he kisses my neck. I can feel his smile against my skin.
“I also know turtles are a symbol of good fortune,” he murmurs, tone turning serious.
“Really?” I ask, mesmerized.
He nods, eyes locked on mine. “And to me good fortune means being here with you.”
He kisses me softly.
My mind reels at his words. Didn’t we agree to no falling? You don’t say things like that to someone who’s just a vacation fling.
“Are you ready for lunch?” he asks after a few more kisses, pulling me gently to him.
“I thought you’d never ask," I say, grinning as I swim toward the tender boat. I can hear his laugh behind me before he quickly catches up.
The ride back feels quieter, more calm. The waves slap against the hull, the sun drying the salt on my skin. Diego sits close, our knees touching, his thumb tracing lazy circles on my hand. It’s not loud or showy, but it feels like the kind of silence that says everything.
Once back on the catamaran, we’re handed towels and robes. Lunch waits for us on deck, a spread of sliders, sandwiches, and crisp salads.
“Everything looks so good,” I say, eyeing the table like I haven’t eaten in weeks.
As we pile food onto our plates, Diego leans close, his breath like a feather caressing my ear.
“What are your thoughts about being my plus-one for the rehearsal dinner tonight?”
My fork freezes mid-air.Plus-one for a rehearsal dinner. That’s… a couple’s thing, right?
I want to say yes immediately—but I can already hear Carly’s voice in my head, telling me to be careful. Then I glance at Diego—the wind tugging at his hair, sunlight catching on his smile—and yeah.
I know I’m already in trouble.
Chapter 8
