His Plus One by Kate Aster

Chapter 7

~ HAILEY ~

The evening sun touches the horizon for the second time on our trip, and I swear I’ll never tire of the sight.

I watch it dissolve slowly into the waves as the crowd at Freya’s welcome dinner at one of the ship’s outdoor venues slowly breaks up.

My eyes pull from the horizon to search for Graydon who had gone to retrieve another soda for me. A plain seltzer water… because I can’t make the same mistake I did last night.

Alcohol, I’m discovering, seems to make me forget the role I’m playing on this cruise.

I’m just a fake date—as fake as the nails the lady at the spa glued to my derelict fingertips. At the end of this, I’ll probably never even see Graydon’s family again, which makes my heart ache because they’re a wondrous mix of chaos, complaints, and warm fuzzies all rolled into one.

I simply adore them.

Families have always had this strange power over me—as though I have tiny fissures in my heart that they have the power to fill.

Even Stephen’s was like that. It was just him and his parents and an older sister he called The Viper. His parents weren’t the overly friendly type, but still being around them was somehow addictive to me.

In the latter years of our relationship, we’d alternate most holidays, spending some with my dad and others with his family. One time, after we got engaged, his parents even invited my dad over, and I remember thinking, “I like this.”

I could picture it all so easily in that moment—one day, I’d envision happily, it would be me pulling the turkey out of the oven, setting the table, removing all the superfluous pillows from my couch so that it could fit everyone as we played some ridiculous board game after dinner while a fire blazed in the fireplace.

Of course, that didn’t happen.

And when Stephen broke it off with me, for a while I even fostered this crazy fantasy that his family would want to stay in touch with me.

They didn’t.

Graydon’s family—the way they’ve already snuck into the corners of my soul with their warm acceptance—could prove to be an even harder addiction to break when this cruise is over.

It would be one thing if they knew Graydon and I were just friends. Then I could maybe send them Christmas cards every year or hope that maybe they’d join one of our work happy hours when they’re in town visiting.

But they think I’m his girlfriend. Which can only mean that one day, he’ll have to tell his family we supposedly broke things off.

I’m all too familiar with the cold shoulder that will follow.

So I have to keep my heart out of their grasp.

“I’m serious,” I hear Max blurt in that way I’m discovering she does, as I spot Graydon trapped in Uncle Ted’s tractor beam and head to rescue him.

“You’ve got to let up on them, Freya,” she continues, “Am I right, Hailey? You know I’m right.”

My eyes glance over to Freya, who is handing out lists for the scavenger hunt after the dinner.

“Right about what?” I ask.

“She’s trying too hard to set up all her single friends. I mean, there’s a reason no one who is single dared to come with us to get mani-pedis today. Including her single maid of honor. That says it all.”

Natasha snorts. “Stein and I ran into poor Harris before breakfast. He was cowering with his coffee in a corner on Deck 10 while a yoga class was going on, trying to not be noticed.”

Freya sighs, passing her a scavenger hunt list. “I can’t help it. I’m trying to finish my second romance novel. I need some inspiration.”

Max bursts out laughing. “Oh, well, now… that doesn’t say much for Mason, does it? You’re two days from getting hitched and looking at other men for inspiration?” Then she glances at the list Freya handed her. “What’s a swizzle stick?”

“A drink stirrer,” Freya says, then adding, “and not that kind of inspiration. It’s just that I love to see—I don’t know—that spark between two people when they’re still in the beginning of their relationship. You know—those first few months when they’re just still so surprised by it all. Like Hailey and Graydon have.”

“What?” I practically gasp, my eyes snapping back to her.

Max grins. “Yeah, any time I take a picture of them, they look like they’re almost—shocked that they’re having so much fun together. It’s cute.”

“I know, right?” Freya giggles, handing me a list. “And you just light up every time you see him, Hailey,” she directs to me.

“I light up?”

“Oh, totally,” Freya affirms. “And that’s what romance novels are all about, you know? That initial spark.”

“Then stop torturing Harris and everyone else,” Natasha suggests, “and just follow around Hailey and Graydon. They’re like two lovebirds that just found each—”

“Hey,” Graydon interrupts, sliding his hand along my back as he comes up behind me.

God, I hope he didn’t hear what they said. And even more, I hope it’s not true.

Do I really light up when Graydon is around?

And if I do, has he noticed it yet?

Still speechless with mortification, I hand the scavenger hunt list to him, forcing my expression to look as unrevealing as I can. And I’m not lighting up right now. I’m not.

He glances at it. “A diaper? Seriously?” he asks Freya.

“Hey, the prize is a dinner for two at a beachfront restaurant in Bermuda tomorrow night,” Freya defends. “Five-stars on Tripadvisor. We’re gonna make you work for it. Mason and I will be at the Lido Lounge waiting for the winner. Only the first couple to reach us with a completed list gets the prize.” Her eyes wander. “Where’s Harris and…” She pauses a moment. “…Allison. I think I had him sit next to Allison tonight. Or Sarah. I can’t remember…” She wanders off and I share a knowing look with the others before Graydon and I leave the party area.

Graydon hands me my drink as we escape the crowd. “Poor Harris.”

I snicker. If I had a dollar for every time I’ve heard Poor Harris on this trip, I’d be retiring early.

He brightens suddenly. “Which reminds me, I don’t think we’ve taken a single selfie all night.”

We stand side by side, his arm over my shoulder and he holds the camera as far from us as he can. After the shot, I bite my lower lip, remembering how it felt when we took that selfie last night.

Our cheeks were touching then as we squeezed into the frame. So close. So warm.

So tempting.

If I shut my eyes, it’s like I can almost feel his cheek against mine again.

“How about a close-up?” he offers suddenly.

Oh my God. Can he read my mind?

“Sure,” I reply, trying to not light up like Freya said I do as he ducks downward to my height and his cheek touches mine with our faces mashed together to fit in the photo.

So close, just like before. So damn close that if I just turned suddenly my lips would be pressing against his…

…and I’d be mortified for the next five days of this trip, not to mention every time I sat at our lunch table or I ran into him on a mission.

Because I’m pretty damn sure this need to kiss him right now is totally one-sided.

“So...” I tamp down the smile on my face, and hope my cheeks aren’t as flushed as they feel. “If we’re going to win this thing, we better get going.”

He grins. “Oh, we’ll win,” he says with assurance as he looks down at the list. “I have a plan. We won’t knock out the items in the order they’re here on the list. If I know Mason, he scattered them around the ship so that we’ll be wasting time walking back and forth. Let’s head to a map and group the items by what area of the ship they’re on.”

“Yes, sir, Lieutenant,” I salute him mockingly and he laughs.

And so begins the evening.

Swizzle stick? Check!

Diaper? Check!

Emery board? Check!

Hot guy at my side as we dart around the ship like two demons possessed by the will to win? Check!

Our list diminishing in size, Graydon glances down, snorting. “Tampon. That one my brother totally put on there. I’m sure he loves the idea of his Teammates going around the ship in search of a tampon.”

I disappear into the first restroom I spot and slide some quarters into the machine. When I emerge triumphant, he laughs, “I’m definitely glad you’re my partner in this right now.”

I grin. “Not willing to go in there on your own?”

His eyes narrow. “To win against my brothers, I might.”

I giggle. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen your competitive side before.”

“You haven’t? After four years?”

“Three,” I correct, yet again… an argument that is getting old.

“Four,” he says predictably. “I still can’t believe you don’t remember that mission in Afghanistan.”

“Oh, I remember the mission. I just don’t remember you.”

“Ouch.”

“No, don’t take it personally. I was terrified because it was my first time in the field. I only remember this guy coming up to me with blood all over his uniform and handing me equipment. All I could think was, this is just so not normal.”

He furrows his brow. “That was me.”

My chin tucks inward as I look at him. “You were the guy with blood all over your uniform?”

“Yeah.”

I screw up my face with disbelief. “Are you sure?”

“I wouldn’t forget that. I actually got my first Purple Heart for that mission. Not that it’s a big deal, seeing as it was the third Purple Heart in the family,” he adds with a small snort.

My brain struggles with this new reality. How could I not have known this? “I can’t believe that was you.”

“Yeah. I thought the blood was someone else’s at the time. I didn’t even realize I had a piece of shrapnel in my calf till I showered up.”

My face curls up. “Ugh. Seriously?”

“Yeah, adrenaline does wonders to protect the body from pain. I was hoping to get a chance to talk to you the next day. But we shipped out pretty quickly on account of that intel you found on those hard drives.”

I stop our quick walk to the nightclub to claim a cocktail napkin, and in my head, I try to fuse his face onto the image in my brain of that guy, four years ago. His face was covered in sweat and grime. But the eyes…

Suddenly, it clicks. “I’ll be damned.”

“I guess I really have to up my game to make an impression on you, Glasses.”

I smile, hearing my familiar nickname. I don’t know why I love hearing it. But I do. “Like I said, it was a blur.”

“I remember you,” he says, his voice seeming distant somehow, as if he’s there, in the memory, reliving it. “You looked a lot different than you do right now.” Then he gives me what I’d normally call a good once-over.

But it can’t be a once-over of the flirtatious kind. Not with Graydon.

“It’s probably the contacts,” I decide out loud. “Or the fact that I don’t have absolute terror in my eyes. That first mission was kind of scary for me.”

“Why’d you do it?”

I shrug. “In cyber, we’re always dealing with attacks. Every day. But when I’m out in the field with you guys—it’s like I feel like I’m protecting more than just computer networks and intelligence information. I can take something from you and turn it into something that could break up a terrorist plot and save lives.”

“And you love it,” he says, cocking his head as he looks at me, as though he’s noticing me for the first time.

“Yeah. Breaks up the monotony to do it sometimes. And I like being a part of a mission. Having a shared goal. It’s like we were all one unit. It’s sort of like how I imagine it feels being a part of a big family. Everyone there to support each other. Does that make sense?”

“Yeah. It’s one of the reasons I love being a SEAL.”

I like this way too much, I decide as we fill the tote bag—personalized with their names and wedding date, of course—that Freya gave each team, striking lines through our list and almost wishing that the final item would never be found because I just don’t want the evening to end.

But we do find it—a yellow stickie note that we get from someone who works at the shore excursions desk.

We pick up speed headed to the Lido Lounge to find Mason and Freya and see if we are the winners. I try to tamp down my smile, remembering what she said earlier in the evening.

Don’t light up when you look at him. Don’t. Don’t.

Damn, it’s a struggle.

Graydon frowns when he spots Max sitting next to Freya and Mason.

“Did you and Colt already finish?” he asks her.

“Nope, though Colt’s annoyed that I ditched him. But I broke off about a half hour ago so I could capture the winning moment.”

“And you’re the winners!” Freya exclaims, her smile wide as she claps her hands.

Mason stands up and bellows in his Navy voice, “Graydon and Hailey, take the gold! Boo-yah!”

They must have told everyone in the lounge what was going on because about fifty people I’ve never seen before start applauding for us.

“You’re going to love this restaurant we picked for the prize. Supposedly the best sunset on the island. The reviews say they’ve got great deep-fried conch fritters, too.”

“Conch fritters? Sounds good. You know I love anything fried,” Graydon says.

I laugh as Mason hands me a gift certificate, and Graydon takes my hand and lifts it up as he lets out a triumphant whoop.

Max takes a few pictures and then calls out, “Kiss her, Graydon!”

Just then, everything slows to half-speed.

Max’s words echo in my head. Kiss me?

I think it just as Graydon says it. “Kiss her?”

“Yeah! Kiss her! It’ll look great for the camera.”

Graydon and I exchange a wide-eyed look.

“I, uh, we’re not trained circus animals, Max,” he says quickly. “We don’t kiss on demand.”

Smooth.

“Oh, come on. It’ll be cute. Loosen up!” she counters.

It’s all still in slo-mo, like when you’re watching a movie on Netflix and all of a sudden your wi-fi starts to act up. And a million thoughts race through my brain.

Kiss him.

Kiss Graydon Adler.

I want to tell myself I’ve never wanted to. But I can’t. I probably draw up a fleeting fantasy of it every time he opens a door for me. Or when he tells me something like how he volunteers teaching people to read when his schedule allows. And I definitely pondered what it would be like to kiss him that moment when I found out why he got a pet fish.

Not to mention when he pressed his cheek against mine just tonight for a selfie.

And right now, when I should be embracing the excuse that Graydon just gave, all I can think is… this is it.

This is probably my one and only chance to see what it feels like to kiss him.

And I am here on this ship to have fun.

“I’m game if it will shut her up,” I find myself saying quietly enough to only be heard by him.

He chuckles, and with him so close to me, I can feel the vibration of it throughout my body.

“Then I better make this good.” He lowers his face to mine and warm lips consume me.

His fingers channel into my hair, pulling me closer, and then they take a slow, deliberate slide down my face until he’s cradling my chin.

More, my soul seems to whisper to him as I steal his heat, fusing our bodies just because I can, this one time. It’s all for the camera, I know, but I’m going to enjoy this.

Surprise sparks in my core when I feel him coax my mouth open just enough so that I can taste him. Fingers trace along my jawline, up to my ear, and then downward, brushing ever-so-gently down my neck.

I hear a low moan and I’m not even sure whether it came from him or from me. My chest rises to meet him, taking in his breath and I lean into him, enjoying the feel of my breasts pressed against his hard muscles. And when I feel my nipples harden, I don’t even care that I know he must feel it too. I’m drunk with a passion fueled by need.

His grip tightens as his hands move downward until they are at my back, and I tilt my head more so that I can taste him fully. He devours me in response, tongue sliding along my teeth. His breath is ragged, which shocks me. On my end, I know the desire is swelling in me. Yet on his end, I didn’t expect to feel anything but necessity—a pose demanded by an overly enthusiastic photographer.

But there is something there. And when I feel the slickness of his tongue again, I dare to intermingle it with my own until words spoken at a disruptive shout have him pulling away from me.

“Geez, guys, get a room,” Max says.

Graydon chuckles as he turns his face from mine to look at his future sister-in-law with a composure I envy right now. “Hey, you told me to kiss her.”

“Yeah, kiss her. But what you two were doing was steaming up my camera lens.”

And with that, the fire, the passion that I was so damn certain I felt between us, is extinguished on his end as I watch him return to his prior conversation about fried conch fritters.

I flag down a server and ask for a glass of ice water.

Fried conch fritters?I listen to him talk to his brother, trying to turn down my inner thermostat. As hot as I feel, he could fry one between my legs right now.