Page 87 of Ship Happens

“You don’t regret it, do you?”

Owen shakes his head. “No.”

“I don’t either,” Jacob says to him. “So, what do we do?”

“We’ve got two days left of this trip,” Owen says. “What if we just pretended?”

“Pretended what, exactly?”

“That we’re not exes,” Owen explains.

“You want to get back together . . .” Jacob can’t help the confusion in his voice. “What, until the end of the cruise?”

Owen laughs at the absurdity of the situation, burying his face in his hands and letting out a muffled groan. “I don’t know, what if we just didn’t think about it?”

“Not think about it?” Jacob parrots.

“Okay, can you please do something other than repeat me?”

“I’m sorry.” Jacob holds his hands up. “This is just weird.”

“Yeah . . . I know.” Owen hesitates. “But we could just . . . do what feels natural.”

“And what do we do after?” Jacob asks. “When we’re home?”

“We cross that bridge when we get to it.”

Jacob’s brows furrow. “Are you sure you’re feeling well?” he jokes, reaching over toward Owen’s forehead with the back of his hand before Owen ducks away.

“I’m fine! I just . . . For the first time in a long time, I’m sure of what I want, and I . . . I just want it,” Owen admits.

“What do you want?” Jacob asks.

“You,” Owen replies with no hesitation at all.

For a moment, Jacob seems to think, and Owen braces himself for the worst. Between the two of them, Owen was always the more logical, always the one to poke holes in Jacob’s schemes. If Jacob wanted to buy tickets to a movie or a game, Owen always had to remind him to check his calendar, because the likelihood that Jacob had forgotten that he already had plans was pretty high. Owen was the one who had to convince Jacob that they couldn’t order takeout or DoorDash every night, that they had to at least try to make healthy and balanced dinners. Owen always took care of the plants because Jacob would forget to water them. Owen would feed Fitzwilliam when Jacob was running late for work and didn’t have time to on his way out the door.

But he’s tired of always having to play by life’s unwritten rules.

“Okay.” Jacob nods. “For the next two days, we’re not exes anymore. At least, not to each other.”

“What does that entail exactly?” Owen asks.

“Like, in front of Kaitlyn, or Abby, or Kevin. I’m guessing we should keep up the act?”

The act? Owen wonders. Is this not the act?

“I agree, we should keep this between us.”

“Agreed.”

“Holding your hand?” Owen asks. “That’s fine.”

Jacob nods enthusiastically. “And kissing you? That’s okay too?”

Owen agrees. It’s more than okay, in fact, especially if it’s anything like last night.

With his pinky extended, Jacob stretches his arm out. “And no talking about it until we’re back in San Francisco?”