Ocean Jewel by Cassie Mint

Nine

Roxy

“I can’t believe this.” I bury my face in my hands, spinning in slow circles in the kitchen. We’re dressed again, but there’s no way I’m going out there. I’m not facing my older brother after he just caught me having sex—caught me losing my virginity—on a counter.

I live in this kitchen now. I hope it will be a good life. Maybe I’ll finally learn to bake.

Damian says nothing, wiping down the counter with a horribly blank face. He shut down the second Jake walked away, cleaning us up and setting me down on the floor without a single word.

Every minute that passes without his reassurance—I die a little inside.

“Damian?” I whisper finally, wrapping my arms around my waist and squeezing tight. He stills, bent over the counter. “I’m…” My voice breaks. I try again. “I’m so sorry.”

“What?” He wheels around, eyes sparking with fury. I cringe backwards, almost tripping over the mop, but when Damian lunges forward, catching my shoulders, his grip is gentle. Always so gentle. “What on earth do you have to be sorry for?” He gives me a little shake. Makes me meet his eyes.

There are little flecks of gold in the brown. I’ll have to draw him in color next time.

I gesture weakly at the doorway. “For screwing things up for you with Jake. For-for pushing you when I knew it meant trouble.”

Damian stares at me for what feels like an age. Then he drops his forehead to mine, letting out a pained sigh.

“Roxy. Sweetheart. I don’t regret a moment of it. And even if I did, you wouldn’t be to blame.”

“But—”

“There were two of us involved, correct?” I nod slowly, and his mouth quirks. “Then if there is blame, we’ll share it.”

Share it. Okay.

“Besides.” Damian scrubs the back of his neck ruefully. “You warned me we’d get caught. I didn’t care.”

I bite my lip. “And you’re the responsible one.”

He snorts. “Guess we’re all in trouble.” We stand in a long silence, and the amusement drains from his face. That eerie blank expression comes back, and I shake him by the sleeve.

“What is it?”

He takes a second to notice my question. But when he does, he smiles down at me, strained but warm.

“Your brother is right to be angry.”

“Because you’re friends?”

He shrugs. “Partly. And because you’re so young. Young and beautiful and funny and completely fucking irresistible.” He buries his face in his hands as he speaks, finishing on a long groan, and I stifle a smile. I shuffle forward, wrapping my arms around him, resting my head on his forearms.

“He’ll forgive us.”

“He’ll forgive you,” Damian mutters.

“No.” I press a kiss to each of his wrists. “We’re a package deal. He’ll forgive us.”

* * *

Okay, so I kind of exaggerated how confident I feel to Damian. The truth is, when I walk down the corridor to our cabins, I feel like I’m walking to the gallows. And when I knock on Jake’s door, my heart is lodged somewhere at the back of my throat.

There’s no answer. Silence. I turn on my heel, chewing on my lip as I decide where to look first.

He’s not in my cabin. Not in Damian’s, sharpening a knife. And he’s not in any of the common spaces below deck. Damian grabs my elbow as I walk past him to the stairs, finally emerging from the kitchen.

“Good luck.” He kisses my forehead. “He loves you. It’ll be okay.”

I nod, too tongue-tied to speak suddenly, and climb the steps to the upper deck. It’s inky dark, no lights except for a few of the boat’s dim bulbs and the moon shining overhead. The waves rolling all around are glossy black, given an oily sheen by the moonlight. The air that slaps my cheeks is icy cold, stinging with salt, and I breathe it in gratefully.

I find Jake by the railings. He leans on his elbows, a dark shadow against the blanket of stars. He must hear me approach, but he doesn’t turn around. Doesn’t acknowledge me at all.

My stomach swoops queasily. Jake—Jake is all the real family I have.

Part of me wants to beg. To drop to my knees and plead for his forgiveness, giving excuses for what I’ve done. But if I do that—if that apologize for loving Damian—I’ll make what we have together something shameful.

Still, I’m not entirely innocent. So I square my shoulders, raise my chin, and apologize for the one thing I am sorry for.

“I’m sorry you saw that.”

Jake scoffs and says nothing. His shoulders are set with anger, and I can practically hear him vibrating from here. I lick my lips and keep going.

“We should have kept it to the cabins.”

Thatgets him talking. He whirls around, a hand digging through his dark hair, his face pale in the moonlight.

“Are you f—are you kidding me, Roxy? That’s all? You wish you’d screwed my best friend behind closed doors?”

I wince, but my voice is clear. “Yes. That’s what I’m sorry for. The only part, Jake.”

“You—I—” He splutters, my chatterbox brother shocked into silence for the first time in his life. I hold up a palm.

“I hope you can forgive us. I hope you can be happy for me.” My voice cracks. “I love him, Jake. And he loves me. So…” I trail off and shrug. “That’s all.”

I turn to go, ready to drown myself in a hot shower. But Jake’s voice stops me short. He sounds wrecked, but… rueful.

“Roxy. Wait.” I do as he asks, trying not to tap my foot with impatience as the silence stretches on. I’ve just opened my mouth to tell him goodnight when he wraps me in his arms.

“Jake.”I burrow into my big brother’s arms, gasping big lungfuls of salty air now the band around my chest is loosening. He rubs slow circles on my back, his nose pressed in my hair.

“You can do better,” he mutters. I kick his shin and he barks a laugh. Then, more serious, he says: “If he hurts you, I’ll kill him.”

“I know.” I squash closer, sighing. Jake sniffs my head, then coughs.

“Ew. I can smell him on you.”

“Shut up!” I push him away, but he’s laughing. And when I turn to go back below deck, he comes with me, shoulders a bit more relaxed. “Please don’t torture Damian,” I whisper as we duck back inside. “He loves you too.”

Jake shrugs one shoulder, but he can’t hide that he’s pleased.

“Maybe. No promises, Rox.”