Page 63 of Love on Deck

“A kid movie?”

“A great movie,” Cara argued. She turned to face us. “Meet y’all there in like twenty minutes?”

I looked down at Lauren, hoping for some sign that she wasn’t into the movie idea, either. Anything that would give us an excuse to go off and do our own thing. She shrugged, her gaze flicking from me to Cara. “I like Moana. But I probably need a sweatshirt.”

I squeezed her fingers. “We’ll see y’all out on the lido deck, then.”

We all filed into the elevator and got off on our respective floors. Lauren had let go of my hand to stand beside Cara, and I found myself itching to lean close to her. Somehow I’d gone from wondering why her hair was so tight to needing to touch her at all times.

Was I obsessed with Lauren Foley? Yeah, it seemed like I was.

It took longer than twenty minutes to change into shorts and sweaters for the windy lido deck and make a pit stop at the ice cream machine, but we still beat Lucas and Cara there. We claimed four chairs and I sent a message to the chat to tell them where we were.

Moana was already singing about the ocean when we sat down. Our seats weren’t great, clear in the back and partially blocked by the edge of the deck above us, but I didn’t really care. I wasn’t here for the movie.

Lauren leaned back, stretching her legs out along the chair. I flung my leg over the side of my chair and rested it so it grazed her calf.

She licked her ice cream, shooting me a suspicious side-eye. “Clingy, much?”

“Is my leg repulsing you? I can move—”

She reached out and pulled on my calf, putting it right back on her chair. It was a pretty huge statement from her. I had the sense that Lauren didn’t take anything lightly, that claiming me like this was a huge step for her.

It heightened my need to make sure I didn’t do anything to mess up whatever was growing between us. She watched me for a long moment before licking her ice cream to keep it from dripping.

“You’re such a slow eater,” I complained.

“You mean I’m great at savoring?”

I rolled my eyes dramatically but didn’t fight the grin stretching my cheeks. “If eating was a sport, I’d win. Just call me cruise champion.”

“As someone who got both a great conference and a... date out of this cruise, I think I’m the winner.”

A date? That was how she defined me? It was too soon for ‘boyfriend’ in our real lives, I agreed, but I wanted to think we were more advanced than that casual representation.

Also, I didn’t know how much I liked being put after the conference when it came to her list of accomplishments for the week. I’d rather be the top prize.

“So I’m your trophy boy?”

She grinned, taking a bite of ice cream. “Don’t be offended. You have no idea how much I needed that conference.”

A niggle of unease weaved through my gut. What if Brad didn’t pull through for me? It would crush Lauren, obviously, but would it ruin her career too? No, I couldn’t think like that. He’d told me it was worth discussing. I just had to make sure my argument was good enough, and that—on top of the discount Lauren prepared to offer—put this deal in the bag.

I swung both of my legs over the side of my lounge chair so I was sitting up, facing Lauren.

“What’s going on?” She took the last bite of her cone.

I waited for her to finish chewing it. Having her full attention, without the computer Amelia thought she was grafted to, was probably not going to last long after we docked in Miami, so I intended to take advantage of every minute on this boat. “Turns out I’m hungry.”

“The buffet place is open,” she said, sitting up and facing me so our knees were staggered between our chairs. “I think they have pizza all night, too.”

“What even is this life?” I grinned, leaning forward, my elbows resting on my knees.

Lauren leaned forward too. “A vacation from your health goals and reasonable eating schedule, obviously.”

“Who says I have any health goals?”

She cocked an eyebrow. “Um, your abs do.”

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