Page 2 of Welcome to Seaman's Cove: Part One
“Don’t say it.” I stand. “This isn’t crazy. I know what I’m talking about.”
“I wasn’t going to say that.” His tone is sincere, but he still won’t look at me. He shuffles some of the papers on his desk, then slides my research toward me. “Come up with something else. You’re a bright girl. I’m certain there are other things you’d like to study.”
“You don’t understand. This is?—”
“Madison.” He stops me with a stern glare.
Why is that so hot? I’ve never seen him so serious. And he never uses my first name. He’ll call other students by their names, but never me. With me, it’s always Miss Grant. Gah, I need to get it together. The man just shut down my thesis without reading it, which is decidedlynothot.
“I’ve made my decision.” He gets up and walks to the door while I’m still reeling.
Nothing about this conversation has gone how I thought it would. I was prepared for ridicule, but not this firm rejection. I assumed he wouldn’t approve my budget, but I thought he’d let me pursue the topic still, probably with an air of indulgent dismissal. That’s what I was expecting. But this…? I don’t know what to make of this.
Dr. Anderson opens his office door, a clear sign that this meeting is over. “I expect you to have a new proposal ready by next week.”
I walk out of his office in a daze. But with each step down the hall and away from Dr. Anderson, my shock builds to anger. Is he even allowed to reject my thesis without fully looking at my proposal, without giving me a single reason for the denial?
Fuck him. If he doesn’t want to approve my proposal, I’ll just have to find Ocearus on my own. I don’t need Dr. Anderson or anyone else. This isn’t some far-fetched dream. Ocearus was here. Right here under all their noses, just miles from the university. A city said to be made of monsters and filled with knowledge.
And I’m going to find it. With or without his support.
2
The cave walls crowd in as I skirt the water’s edge to move deeper, climbing wet rocks. I only have about three hours before the tide comes in and all of this will be submerged. But I’m prepared. Mini scuba kit strapped to my back, plus tools for digging and three flashlights in my dry bag.
Ocearus probably wasn’t down in this cave, of course. But tucked away like this, the remnants of a civilization might still remain untouched. All I have to do is find an arrowhead, a pot, some coin dropped by a teen climbing the rocks after their mom told them not to… anything. All I need is one piece of proof, and then Dr. Anderson will have to listen to me.
Water breaks on a choppy shoreline of rock, entombed in darkness. That’s where I’ll start.
I probably shouldn’t be out here alone, but what choice do I have? Anger floods my chest when I remember how dismissive Dean Anderson was of my proposal.
I can’t wait to knock that man off his high horse, evenif he looks damn sexy up there. He’s the picture of professionalism while he’s on campus, always dressed in slacks, pairing it with a blazer or one of those stuffy sweater-vests. But in the field, he dresses more casually. I had the pleasure of seeing it for myself when I was an intern on a dig last summer, just after graduating with my masters. That’s when I first noticed the breadth of his shoulders, the way t-shirts cling to his pecs. Once, when he didn’t think anyone was looking, he lifted the bottom of his shirt to wipe the sweat from his face. I nearly went into heat on the spot when I caught an eyeful of tan skin covered in a smattering of dark hair. A thick line of it disappearing into his waistband, like a guide to what has to be a magnificent cock.
I shouldn’t think about the dean of my department like that, but something about the taboo of it makes it even hotter. Even if I’m infuriated with the man at the moment.
A noise from the other side of the cave has me swinging around, and I nearly scream when my helmet light illuminates something that doesn’t belong. There’s a man sitting at the back of the cave, away from the water. A naked man. Avery attractivenaked man. Apart from the gold bands decorating his blue hair, he’s not wearing a lick of clothing. His skin is so pale it’s almost translucent under the light. His toned abs flex as he sucks in a breath, and I blink multiple times, taken aback by his unexpected appearance. What is he doing here? And like that?
My cheeks burn as his eyes lock with mine, the look so intense I feel as if I’m under a microscope. His gaze travels the length of my body. Heat suffuses my skin as if his stare is a tangible thing. He stands, but wobbles and falls over.
“Are you okay?” I gasp, stumbling across the rocks to where he’s curled in on himself. There’s a gash on his legfrom where he must have cut it on a rock when he fell. “Shit. Okay, I’ve got some first aid supplies.”
He doesn’t respond. I touch his shoulder, and he flinches. I raise my palms. “It’s alright. I’m just going to bandage this up, okay?”
His head tilts to the side, and I take the fact that he’s not moving away as a good sign. I pull out some rubbing alcohol and a bandage. Good thing I came prepared for anything. Though I never could have predicted I’d be in a situation like this.
“It’s gonna sting,” I warn.
The moment the alcohol hits his cut, he makes the strangest sound I’ve ever heard, and I have to cover my ears. It’s halfway between the chirp of a dolphin and the rolling vowel sounds of a whale. I understand it hurts, but I’ve never seen anyone react so strongly to rubbing alcohol. Definitely never heard anyone make a noise likethat.
When he closes his mouth, we eye each other warily. His lean, muscular form tenses like he’s poised to pounce. I hold up the bandage. “This will help.”
Before he can back away, I grab his leg, then slap the bandage over the cut. He jerks like he expects it to hurt, but relaxes quickly when it doesn’t.
“What’s your name?” I ask.
No answer. Clearly, this man needs help. I guess my solo excavation project will have to wait.
“Come on.” I stand up and offer him my hand.
