Page 34 of Release (Symbols of Love 3)

He clears his throat and loosens an imaginary button around his shirt collar. I glance down at myself. My towel is completely covering me, but I have no idea what he saw and when he got here.

"How long have you been here? Have you been watching me?"

"What? No! I mean, yes. But not on purpose. I--" he’s flustered, but he doesn’t try to avoid my eyes.

"Not on purpose? How do you accidentally watch someone swimming?” I push.

"I was going down early to find a spot for us on the beach, Emma," he says, and I know I’ve offended him.

His voice sounds like I'm used to. Arrogant, annoyed, slightly bored. None of the warmth I've found myself so hungry for in it.

"Fine. Can you please turn around so I can get dressed?"

He peers at me and rolls his eyes, but turns around. I admire his broad back, clad in a white dress shirt that fits like it was made for him.

I drop my towel and pull my shorts over my hips and my blouse over my head. My hands tremble, and I fumble over each button as I try to hurry. All of this is so bizarre and frightening. I can’t wait to see his face when he turns around. Will he even notice that I’m not covered from head to toe?

"Tell me why you were crying." My hands stop, and like they were weighed down by stones, they fall to my side. I stare at the ground through a blur of tears.

"It's none of your business."

"Emma," he prompts, and I don't have to look up to know that he's turned back around.

"You weren't supposed to see that!"

His eyes soften as he looks down at me.

"Do you get off on seeing me an

gry or sad?" Knowing that he may have witnessed what I thought was a private moment, unsettles me.

He watches me for a moment before he steps closer to me. He puts his hands on my shoulders and looks down into my eyes.

“Leave it alone," I groan, embarrassed at how petulant I sound.

"I can't leave it or you alone. Believe me, I've tried," he says. I pull myself out of his grasp. I turn around and pick up my flip flops and turn back around to face him.

He's watching me, an infuriating tenderness in his eyes. He he doesn’t deserve my anger. So I force myself to get over myself and apologize.

"I'm sorry. I thought I was alone," I stammer, but I make myself look him in the eye.

“You don’t need to apologize for your reaction.” His eyes scan the pool area, “I don’t understand why you’re out here alone, though. Anyone could have happened by,” he chides.

"You're right,” I admit with a small shrug. “I wanted to swim when I knew no one would be here.” I throw my bag’s straps over my shoulder and smile at him, trying to dispel some of the lingering tension. “The sun's setting. If we hurry, we can try the fried yam and choffee those women are selling. It’s almost time for them to start shutting down. I'm starved." I start walking.

"It's early for them to be calling it quits."

"They're not calling it quits. The beaches are deserted at night, so they're going into town to set up on the busy corners."

"What's choffee?" he asks, and I walk down ahead of him, drying my hair as I walk. As soon as I leave the cobbled path that leads to the beach and step onto the sand, I pull my shoes on again. The sand here is rough. It's not the fine white sand that sifts through your toes on most beaches I've walked on. This sand is chunky; you can see the sediment and shells and bits of glass that it's made of.

"It's fried turkey tail, and it's delicious." I grin at him over my shoulder and then stop so he can catch up. "Have you eaten any street food while you've been here?" I ask.

He grimaces and gives a dramatic shudder. "No. I'm trying to go back with my digestive system intact."

"You've got try choffee and kele wele," I inform him, and we start walking again.

"Kelly what?" he asks derisively.

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