Adrift Page 7

  I look up to the stars to prevent the tears from falling. I don’t even understand why I’m so upset, not really. I just—I just wish he’d stop. Stop being so wonderful, stop hoping, stop pushing me to hope…

  “I know you. I know you better than anyone else,” he continues.

  I snort, wiping my eyes, and glare at him. “You know what I tell you and you know I get lost easily. That’s all you know.”

  “Wrong again.” His voice whips at me. “I know you never give up, despite wanting to. Even now. I know you won’t give up. I know you saved my life, you feed us, and you helped build this little home for us. I know you gave up everything you had in order to feel something after your father died. I know you still mourn him, very late at night, when you think I’ve gone to bed and can’t hear your cries. I know you always have a smile for me, even when you’re hurting inside.”

  He pulls me into his arms for a hug, whispering against my hair, “I know you’re scared. And I know that you’ll get up every morning despite it. You’re not a quitter, Taylor. You’re the strongest person I know.”

  I wrap my arms around his shoulders and hang on for dear life.

  “But you’re still wrong. Someone does care for you, someone would never stop looking for you if you got lost.” He pulls back and frames my face with his hands. “You have me. You’ll always have me. We’re a team.”

  I hug him again. A team. Friendship. We’re friends. I stifle a sob and pat his back to signal for him to let me go. Wiping my face, I nod behind me. “I’m just going to go for a little walk. I need to clear my head.” He opens his mouth to protest, but I wave it off. “Not far. I just need some space.”

  I pat his shoulder. What a friendly thing to do.

  What are you thinking, Taylor?

  I glance behind me to see he’s still standing where I left him—just a dark shadow lit up from the fire behind—and it hurts. No more. I can’t let my emotions get the best of me anymore. Especially for a guy I barely know, one who wouldn’t give me a second glance if we were on the street. I’ll be his friend. Hell, I’ll be his best friend, but first, tonight I need to be the girl falling for the guy who saved her life.

  The next morning, I wake up to the rhythmic sound of scraping and turn over to see East using the knife to sharpen the end of a long, slender piece of wood.

  “What are you doing?” I sit up groggily. I didn’t make it back until late last night and still ended up lying across from East, staring at the sky as my mind refused to let me drift off to sleep.

  East grins at me. “I’m going to try spear fishing.”

  I scoop my hair off my neck and shoot him a disbelieving glance. “Are you turning into Tarzan?”

  East laughs and it makes my lips tilt upwards despite the heaviness of last night. East’s laugh should be illegal. It’s throaty and deep, like he laughs from his belly, and it’s always full-bodied. His shoulders continue to shake and he uses a hand to swipe the hair that’s grown so quickly out of his eyes.

  “I wish. I’m going to try to get us more protein. How does fish sound for dinner?”

  “Amazing, if you can do it,” I taunt, lifting a brow.

  His lids lower and his grin turns into something other than humorous. “You doubt me?”

  “I’ll always doubt the pretty little rich boy playing wilderness man.”

  “Oooh.” He gets up slowly and uses his finger to test the now wickedly pointed spear he’s fashioned. “Those are fighting words. Want to make a bet?”

  Loving how playful he is this morning, I dig my toes into the sand and smile up at him. “Sure.”

  “If I get a fish, you have to clean it.”

  “Deal. And if you don’t, you have to find the biggest jackfruit you can and haul it back here.”

  East extends a hand, pulling me to my feet when I place mine in his. He yanks hard and I fall into his arms, yelping in surprise at the full-bodied contact. “For some reason, Taylor, I thought you’d wager something else.”

  My breath stalls in my throat at his words and heated expression. “Like what?” I internally wince at how breathy I sound, but his sexy, annoyingly confident face is nearly touching mine. All it would take is a slight tilt of my chin and we’d be kissing. A needy whimper tickles my throat and I clear it before it escapes. “Don’t answer that.”

  East’s smile turns into a knowing grin and I detangle myself from him. I pat his arm and reach down to grab the knife from where he left it in the sand. Pulling my hair off my neck, I grimace as it sticks.

  “I need you to do something before you go off playing the hunter,” I tell him, running my fingers through my hair. It hits the middle of my back and weighs a ton.

  “Hmm?” East grunts as he watches my fingers intently.

  “Cut my hair?” I try to hand him the knife but he backs away, scowling.

  “No way,” he growls angrily.

  My brows furrow in confusion. “Why not? Please, I want it to be as neat as possible. No need to look any more wild than I already do.”

  “I’m not helping you cut your hair off.” He backs away again, arms crossing over his chest.

  “East, come on.” I roll my eyes at his pouting and try to hand him the knife again.

  “No!”

  “Why?” I snap, annoyed.

  “Because!” he yells back.

  “It’s my hair, I can do whatever I want with it.”

  “Because I love your hair,” he admits begrudgingly, shutting me right up.

  I exhale loudly through my nose and try not to soften. The idea that he likes something about me that much—“That’s flattering, but it’s heavy, dirty, and makes me sweat. I’d appreciate you helping me. Please.”

  Looking anything but happy, East sits down in the sand and points to the spot in front of him. Smiling, I hand him the knife and sit down, giving him my back. “Just to my shoulders, ok? Plenty left for you to fawn over, weirdo.”

  I feel him lift it away from my neck and run his hands down the tail before sinking his hands into it. My eyes roll in pleasure as tingles cascade from my scalp down my back. It feels wonderful to have him play with my hair. Hell, it feels wonderful to have someone touch me, period.

  “It’s so thick,” he whispers to himself, and I fight desperately not to lean back into his arms. “Just to the shoulders.”

  I nod and sit up as straight as possible. The tugging on my hair makes me wince, but I refuse to make a noise. He quickly braids it and I’m suddenly desperate to ask how the hell he knows how to fashion a braid, but he’s already cutting it and I do not want to break his concentration.

  Soon he’s cut across the ends, and I feel almost lightheaded from the lack of weight and the warmth I feel from his proximity. I hear him set down the knife in the sand and then he’s running his fingers through my shoulder length hair.

  “Feel better?” he asks, his breath tickling my neck and I shiver, giving him a nod.

  “Thank you,” I whisper, and he places a small kiss to my back, shocking the hell out of me.

  “I’ll be back,” he says quickly, getting to his feet and grabbing his spear.

  Before I can say anything else, he’s stripping down to his black boxer briefs and diving into the ocean. I look behind me and find my long braid lying in the sand, the knife sticking out of the sand next to it. He used some hair to tie off both ends and I decide to keep it. Maybe we could use it for something.

  I watch him for another few minutes before getting to my feet. “East!”

  He looks back towards me, dark head bobbing in the gentle waves.

  “I’m going to get firewood!” I point behind me and see him wave.

  Twirling the ends of my new hair, I wonder briefly how uneven it is and dismiss the moment of vanity. Who cares what it looks like? I reach behind me and palm the spot where he kissed, just below my neck. Am I wrong? Does he feel the same thing I do?

  Does it matter?

  Trying my best not to read into it, I head back
into the now familiar trees and gather up as much firewood as I can.

  I STAY TRUE TO MY word and don’t wander far from where he spends the next few hours fishing. Along with firewood, I grabbed some large palms and wove some makeshift hats for us. I’ve gotten pretty good at this weaving shit over the last couple weeks. Plus, the sun is brutal on our eyes. I’m tired of squinting, and poor East’s face looks like a tomato. A very handsome tomato, but red as hell.

  I hear a shout and see East treading water, lifting something into the air. Shading my eyes, I move to the edge of the water. “What is it?”

  “Lobster! We’re eating fancy tonight, baby!” His laugh carries easily over the distance and sound of the surf. My breath catches at his endearment and I give him a thumbs-up, smiling widely at his enthusiasm.

  It’s when he starts to swim towards me that I notice the dark shape in the water. I move closer, wondering if that’s him or—

  “East!” I scream at the top of my lungs, terrified as I realize it’s a fucking shark. East stops swimming and I scream again, waving my hands towards the beach. “Shark!”

  The dark shape circles around him again and vomit rises in my throat. East’s swimming now, as fast as he can, spear gone but still hanging onto that stupid lobster. Idiot!

  I look around for something to help and grab the knife before running into the water. So stupid, but I’m not losing him. Not after everything. East sees me wading into the water and swims faster, if that’s possible. I go waist deep and move as far to the right as I can. Without wasting any more time and breathing deeply, I cut a small gash along my thigh, right above the knee. I whimper as pain rockets through my body and the clear blue water stains red as blood immediately flows.

  White knuckling the knife, I look up to see the shark come close enough to the surface that I can make out both fins cutting through the water. “Come on, you bastard. Come on!” I yell. Please, God, this has to work. They can smell blood up to a mile away, right? I’m only ten feet away. “Come on!”

  I watch as it gets so close to East that my vision goes black for a moment before I start splashing the bloody water. Turn towards me, you fucker, come this way.

  Then, as if hearing my taunts, it turns towards me, its slick body cutting through the water so quickly it momentarily shocks me. My grip tightens on the knife, wondering where East is, whether he’s safe, but I’m too afraid to look away from the monster coming right for me.

  “Taylor!” East screams from behind me, jolting me out of my shock, and I back away, finally turning and doing my best to run through the water.

  I sob a breath, my panicked eyes meeting East’s wild ones as he runs towards me. “East!”

  My injured leg gives out as I make it out to knee-deep water. East splashes his way in, scooping me up and running the rest of the way to the beach. I lay my head on his chest, exhausted from shock, listening to his pounding heart as he carries me all the way back to camp.

  “I can’t believe you did that!” he hisses, setting me down and running for the first aid kit. “What were you thinking?” he yells, ripping open some alcohol wipes and rubbing one across my cut immediately.

  Wincing, I dig my hands into the sand behind me. “You, dumbass. I was thinking I didn’t want to see you become shark food.”

  He snarls something under his breath and grabs the gauze, wrapping my leg and tying it off efficiently despite the shaking of his hands. He’s become quite the little medic since my infection.

  He finishes packing up the kit in silence and I watch him warily. I’ve never seen him so angry before. Suddenly he spins around and kneels over me, resting his forehead against mine.

  “Nothing can happen to you, Taylor. You’re not expendable,” he whispers harshly.

  “You’re not expendable to me either, East. If I can do something to save you, I will. Always,” I whisper back, rocking my leg side to side as my cut throbs.

  He turns his head and nuzzles his lips against my temple before gently kissing my cheek. I sit unmoving, wishing he’d stop overwhelming me but afraid he’ll stop.

  “Taylor,” he whispers against my lips, asking permission, and I nod almost imperceptibly.

  His mouth instantly crashes against mine and I close my eyes, so fucking relieved he feels it too. His lips feel perfect against mine, soft and hard at the same time. East coaxes my mouth open and dips his tongue in, tasting me, letting me taste him, and I moan, eager for more. I keep my hands in the sand in order not to grip him to me.

  Too much too fast.

  East moves closer, his body crowding mine, giving off so much heat it feels like the sun is shining out of him. I pull back slightly, whisper his name, and nip at his lips. East growls low and shifts closer. Pain shoots up from my legs and my vision goes black as a scream tears from my throat. East rips his mouth away and he frantically checks to make sure he didn’t cause any damage.

  I drop back against the sand, panting both from his kiss and the pain. “East, stop, it’s ok.”

  “It’s not ok!” he disagrees loudly, looking pale and worried. “I can’t believe I just attacked you while you’re injured.”

  “You didn’t attack me, East,” I laugh weakly. “I clearly wanted it.”

  East shakes his head, clearly still berating himself, and brings me over to the boat. He lays me down gently and drapes the tarp so I’m out of the sun. “Don’t move. I’m going to get you some water.”

  I want to argue that it’s not a deep cut, that I wasn’t dying, but it’s no use. He’ll just continue to worry over me, and to be honest, it’s nice to have his attention. He brings me an empty coconut that I’ve been using as a cup and lifts the water to my lips.

  I can’t help it; a snicker escapes, and I snark, “My arms aren’t broken.”

  He glares at me, sitting back on his haunches. “Can you just let me take care of you? You just saved my life again.”

  I smile at him gently. “It was my turn.”

  He reaches out and caresses my hair before cupping my cheek. “Thank you, Taylor.”

  I lean into his touch, willing my eyes not to fill again. “You’re welcome.”

  “Are you hungry?”

  “Always,” I laugh and see him relax.

  “I’m going to cook up that lobster we fought so hard for.” He pats my uninjured leg. “I’ll be back.”

  “East.” I wait until he turns back and point to one of the hats I weaved for us. “Put one of those hats on, please. It’ll protect your face and shoulders.”

  “Something wrong with my face?” He smiles but grabs the leaf hat and plops it on his head.

  “Go make me food, idiot.” I laugh at how ridiculous he looks, but it works. His face is now protected from the sun’s glare.

  “Right away, milady.” He bows dramatically and disappears from sight.

  I wait until I hear him puttering around before covering my face with my hands, shaking like a leaf in the wind. I can’t believe I just did that. I can’t believe East almost died! From a shark! I change my mind. I hate this place; I want to go home. I want a bed and air conditioning. I want coffee and a hamburger. I want to be safe. I want East to be safe.

  “Smells good already!” he calls out, and I blow out an unsteady breath, willing myself under control. He needs me to be strong, so I force every ounce of it into my voice.

  “Can’t wait!”

  East refuses to let me do anything for the next two days, my stint with an infection before we landed here fueling his argument for sitting around on my ass. He did not want me getting sick again.

  Watching the dark memories flit behind his eyes is more than enough to get me to refrain from arguing. Luckily, it’s those same memories that have him sticking around. He still tries to go spear fishing, but he stays closer to the shore and I serve as a lookout.

  Our successes have far out numbered our failures; luck is clearly on our side, so it’s hard to swallow that we’re still undiscovered. The loud crashing of the waves against t
he shore draws me out of my pouting and I focus back on the water.

  I sit up straighter when I notice how strong the sea looks, especially beyond the sandbar. The waves are bigger and the current is clear in the water, moving fast. My hair tickles my face as the wind picks up and has me looking up at the sky. The sun is still shining brightly, but there is definitely more cloud cover.

  I rest my hand on the butterflies in my stomach as I worriedly watch our fire; the signs of an incoming storm are too strong to ignore. The flames begin to flicker faster with the increasing wind.

  I just had to go on thinking about how lucky we are.

  East left over an hour ago to get more water, not that it mattered now, and it would take him probably an hour to get back. Hopefully he feels the change in the environment and hurries back.

  In the meantime, sitting around with my thumb up my ass isn’t going to help us. I hurry up to the tree line and gather as much firewood as I can and pile it under a large palm.

  I run back to our boat and worry my lip when I see how close it is to the water. I grip the front lip of the boat and try to pull, to no avail. It’s securely wedged into the beach. I hope it’s wedged far enough in this sand not to wash away.

  I grab the tarp and place all our food, medical supplies, and all our other random stuff on top to pull towards the firewood. I tie the ends of the tarp to branches, creating a hurried lean-to facing away from the beach. Hopefully the trees will slow any wind gusts down. Looking around, I find some larger rocks and pile them around the sides to make sure it doesn’t blow away.

  Doing my best to clean out the sand beneath the tarp of any rocks, sticks, and bugs, I don’t hear East yelling for me until he’s right behind me.

  “I thought I told you to stay,” he huffs, out of breath from his run on the beach.

  I shoot him an incredulous look over my shoulder. “Well, as I’m not a dog and there’s a storm coming, I decided not to wait around for the man to come home.”

  He rolls his eyes and looks at the makeshift shelter I fashioned. “We need to make sure this is anchored.”