Deep Betrayal

their football game, although I noticed Rob throw a few furtive looks my way, too.
    Stupid, stupid, stupid boys. Ruining everything with their stupid assumptions and stupid hands and stupid promises to come back for me . I wrapped my towel around me like a sarong. Ineeded a few minutes to myself. When no one was looking, I stole away, following a line of oak trees thirty feet from the shore, north toward a wobbly boat dock. There were three aluminum rowboats on the shore, turned on their sides. A perfect, shady place to sit. And hide. And wait for it to be time to go home. Home . Wherever that was these days.
    I drummed my fingers on the first metal hull, which rang hollow. Same with the second. The bow of the third row-boat rested against the dock. As I prepared to sit beneath its shade, a hand shot out and grabbed my ankle.

5
REUNION
    I stifled a shriek and hit the sand as another hand reached around my waist and pulled me under the small metal boat.
    For a moment all we did was stare. His green eyes brooding, yet as frightened as my own. His wet hair hanging in dark, twisted ropes against his olive-tanned face. His soaking-wet board shorts pressing against my thighs.
    The hull closed in on us from all sides, and the small confines amplified my senses. Even the silence bounced around, echoing in my ears. The smell of patchouli hung heavy in theair. Heat licked up at us from the sand, and his breath was hot against my face.
    “Look at you,” he said, and his voice was disappointed.
    I pulled the towel closer around me, but he yanked it off—his hands shaking—pressing his lips to my neck, trailing my collarbone. He pulled back and studied me with as much distance as the boat would allow. I counted to five before he let out a small groan, saying, “There. That’s better. It’s killing me to look at you, but I’ve really missed that color. Nobody lights up like you do.”
    Instinctively, I pushed him away. How dare he show up, out of the blue, without so much as a lame excuse for his silence. More than that, a shiver of fear raised the hair on my arms. Was he working up my emotions just so I’d be a more satisfying absorption?
    I was ashamed of myself for even thinking it—Calder had worked hard to overcome the merfolk’s naturally gloomy disposition and his craving for human emotion—but from the way his hands were shaking, it was clear our separation had set him back a few steps. How far back I wasn’t sure I wanted to find out.
    “Definitely better,” he said.
    I laughed nervously, wondering what color I might have been when he first grabbed me. Based on the flash of terror I’d had, it must have been pretty awful. Now, despite my attempt to stay mad, he was stoking me into euphoria with his touch. I could only imagine the temptation my emotions presented. Two deep breaths and I hoped I could subdue it, but he trailed his finger across my lips and then put it to his own so I knew I’d have to work harder on that.
    “Man, you look beautiful.” His voice was deep and rich like a riverbed.
    “Where have you been?” I demanded.
    “Around,” he said, combing his fingers through my hair, fixing his warm gaze on my narrowed eyes, drawing me into his spell against my will.
    “Yeah?” I said, doing my best to at least keep my tone sharp. I wasn’t doing as well controlling my hands, which lay flat against his hip bones but no longer pushed him away. His long legs tangled with mine. “That’s all you’ve got? ‘Around’? How’s the fasting going?”
    A rush of blood flooded his cheeks, making him look, if it were possible, even more gorgeous. “Don’t be mean, Lily.”
    “ Mean? You think I’m mean?”
    “Of course it’s been harder without you,” he said. “A few close calls, but I’ve held it together.”
    “Could have fooled me. What were you doing grabbing me like that? I could have been anybody.” As soon as I said it, I wished I hadn’t. It probably hadn’t mattered to him who it was. I probably was just anybody. “Close calls”? I didn’t want to think what that implied.
    “You’re right,” he said, drawing his fingers down my sternum. “It could have been somebody who bathed in orange juice this morning. I really should be more careful.” He brushed a strand of hair off my face. “Hmmm. You look confused. I guess I never told you that,” he said. “You smell like oranges.”
    He twisted my long hair several times around his hand and held it in a knot at the