Page 39 of The Devil and the Deep Blue Sea

Look at her rack, is what he said. If you want to know what it takes to be famous in this country, I offer you exhibit A and exhibit B. And yes, I laughed. He was joking, mostly, and it wasn’t entirely untrue. I’m not about to delude myself into thinking I got where I am based on talent alone.

“He was just drunk. He makes stupid, tactless jokes when he’s drunk. The nice thing about your brother is that he doesn’t give a shit about my money, or my fame, so when he’s nice…I get to know he means it. And I’d like to point out that you’re the one who convinced me to stay on this trip yesterday.”

He blows out a breath and pinches the bridge of his nose. “I know. And I shouldn’t have. You deserve someone who worships the ground you walk on, Drew. Someone you can lean on. Who cares more about your happiness than his own.”

I swallow. I’m not sure what he’s describing exists, and it hardly matters, because I don’t want it anyway. Life is easier when you don’t entirely depend on another person for anything, when you hold a little back.

“I’m not looking for that,” I tell him. “It’s like driving. Some people want to take the long, meandering journey with no guarantees, hoping they end up in a good place. And some of us just take the express bus: it won’t get you anywhere special, but at least you know what you’re in for.”

He looks like he wants to argue, and I’m relieved when he doesn’t.

Because he’s the one person alive who could convince me to take a risk, and I can’t stand to let myself love yet another thing I’ll eventually lose.

* * *

When I get back to the room, Six is awake and wary. He looks at me like I’m a feral animal skulking near his chickens.

“Hey,” I say quietly, dropping my beach bag on the desk.

“Hey,” he replies. He crosses to the minibar and I’m sorely tempted to ask if he really needs it, but I’m not his mother, after all.

I’m sticky and sandy and I just want to have a shower and not engage in some pointless fight with him. I go to my suitcase and grab a change of clothes.

“You played my guitar today,” he says.

I look up and meet his gaze. I’m not going to apologize for it. It’s one of his backups, and no one would consider it a great guitar. “I tuned it for you.”

“I didn’t need you to tune it for me,” he snaps.

Oh, believe me, Six. You needed me to tune it.

“Josh spent all of breakfast and half of the golf game laying into me about what I said, by the way,” he says. “So that was fun.”

Warmth spreads through my chest. I didn’t need Six to be scolded, but I kind of love that for once in my life, someone took my side. Especially when I’m not sure I deserved it.

“I shouldn’t have said what I did,” I reply, grabbing my clothes. “But you shouldn’t have either.”

For a moment I’m certain he means to argue, but then he puts his glass down and crosses the room, pulling me against him. I’m in my bikini, he’s only in shorts, and it’s the most physical contact we’ve had since this so-called vacation started. He hardens and I try to ignore it.

“You’re right,” he says. “I just—”

“Please don’t double down and defend what you said,” I reply, stepping away. “Just don’t.”

He laughs and pulls me back to him. “Okay, babe. Whatever. You’re the best guitarist in the fucking world. Are we good now?”

No, I’m not sure we are.

I close my eyes and see a gray sky, bare trees. A driver glancing back at me in the mirror, thinking I’m too young to be on the bus for so long. It’s what I remember whenever I’m feeling lost, whenever I’m scared.

Or whenever I suspect I’m on a dangerous path, and I think maybe I am right now. I just don’t know if it’s Six, or his brother, who’s the danger.

PART III

KAUAI

“Home to staggering vistas and lush vegetation, Kauai is, without a doubt, the most beautiful of Hawaii’s islands.”

From Kauai: The Garden Isle