His blood coursed through his veins like a roller coaster. He burst upward and ran to the sea, scanning the surface for any glimpse. Her rear rounded up, and her tail flipped. Unable to contain himself, he let out a long whoop, and waved, holding his shirt against his chest. It still had her scent. Hurriedly, he put it on, caressing it all over, as if she still wore it.
Chapter Twelve
The bliss of last night filled AJ as soon as he awoke. He showered and dressed, singing the whole time.
Grandpa stuck his head in his bedroom door. “What’s all the racket?”
“Sorry. I got carried away.” He slipped his feet into his shoes and bent to tie them.
His grandfather studied him. “The girl, huh?”
Stepping to the mirror, AJ combed his hair. “I feel like I’m going to bust out of my skin, you know?”
Grandpa grunted. “Isn’t it a little soon for that?”
AJ tucked in his shirt, and glanced around for his belt, which should be near his shoes. “What?”
His grandfather folded his arms across his chest. “You just met her, correct?”
Lifting some clothes from the floor, AJ found the belt and slipped it through his jeans. “Yes, but—”
“You’re moving too fast.” Grandpa widened his stance and set his jaw.
“I have to, Grandpa. I don’t want her to get away.” AJ went to the mirror. His hair looked too straight. He ran his fingers through to loosen the layers.
Grandpa’s face softened, his voice was less gruff. “If she’s worth anything, she’ll stay. You can’t rush these things.”
AJ wasn’t going to argue with his grandfather, especially not about love. Grandpa hadn’t felt it in too long. His grandfather couldn’t relate to what he was feeling.
His voice still stern, Grandpa said, “I made pancakes.”
AJ couldn’t tell him the truth–he wasn’t hungry, not for food. “Thanks.”
He followed his grandfather to the table, shoveled in a few forkfuls, then pushed his plate away. “I better get going.”
Grandpa frowned over his coffee cup. “You have plenty of time.”
He stood, still gulping his milk, and set his plate in the sink. “I want to get there early, since I was out yesterday.” He knew his grandfather wouldn’t argue with a responsible work ethic.
Leaning back, Grandpa set his hands on his legs. “Would you like me to drive you?”
AJ wiped his hands on the kitchen towel hanging from the stove handle. “No thanks. I have extra energy I need to work off.”
Grandpa’s disapproving glare only made AJ’s heart lighter. When he opened the front door, sunshine burst into the dim home. “See you tonight.”
He walked at a brisk pace, though the June sun already sizzled against his skin. He sang all the way to Weeki Wachee Springs. He clocked in and hastily left the employee locker room for the Wilderness Cruise.
A few elderly folks tottered into the hut.
“Morning,” AJ called with a smile, then hummed as he filled the engine with gas.
His good mood continued through lunch. Chaz hadn’t ambushed him yet. Maybe he wasn’t in today. It was less likely he’d given up.
On his way toward the entrance at the end of the day, someone whistled. AJ turned.
“AJ, my man. You all recovered?” Chaz’s sleazy smile appeared at the end of the dim hallway like a sinister Cheshire cat.
“Yeah, I’m fine.” AJ kept walking.
Chaz strutted toward him and caught up with him at the door. “Great. How are your lungs?”
“What? My lungs are fine.” He pushed past him into the parking lot.
Chaz buzzed around him like a hornet. “Then we can carry on with our plan, huh? You can sing tonight.”
AJ paused. “Not tonight. I’m busy.”
“Busy again.” Chaz fell back for a moment, then charged ahead to fall into step with AJ. “Same girl?”
“Yeah.” AJ held his pace even, though he wanted to run. Or shove Chaz. Anything to get away.
“She must be some special kind of girl, for you to be so crazy about her so quick.” No matter how casual Chaz’s tone, he was interrogating AJ nonetheless.
“She is.” Maybe if he kept his answers short, the dude would take the hint.
The strain of trying to keep pace sounded in his breathy voice. “Cause I figured you more for a player, not someone who fell in love with a girl just like that.”
AJ kept his gaze ahead, but felt Chaz’s constant stare. “She’s different.”
“Different how?” Chaz stepped in front of AJ, his steely grey eyes bore into him.
Oh, man. How did he pick up on the slightest nuance like that? AJ shrugged, his annoyance came through in his tone. “She’s nice. And smart. And funny. I like talking to her. Being with her.” He sounded like a drooling middle-schooler.
And it wasn’t fooling Chaz one bit. His intense gaze cut through AJ’s bullshit lines. He knew.
“She sounds really special.” The way he said it made AJ want to scrub his skin with strong soap. Like he pictured her naked.
AJ set his hands on his hips. “She is. I don’t want to mess things up.”
The movement of Chaz’s head might have been a nod, might have been a nervous twitch. He didn’t release AJ from his crazy-eyed scrutiny.
He had to get away from the creep. “Listen, we’ll work out a night, maybe next week. All right?”
“Sure. Next week.” His eyes glazed, Chaz sounded far from convinced.
“That’s what I said.” AJ shifted his legs, ready to sprint away the moment this damn conversation ended.
“And you’re a man of your word.” Chaz tilted his head, and narrowed his eyes. “And in the meantime, maybe we could double-date. I’d like to meet this girl of yours.”
AJ winced. “What? No.”
With pouty lips, Chaz clucked his tongue. “Don’t be afraid, AJ. I won’t steal her from you.” His eyes shone with hate–or something more insidious.
“Look, maybe sometime. We’ll see.” AJ ducked his head and walked.
“What about Friday? We could go to a movie, you, me, your girl.”
“The three of us?” AJ laughed as he turned, but kept moving, out of whatever web Chaz tried to spin around him.
Chaz’s shoulder jerked. “I’ll ask Susie. Or Darlene. She’s willing enough.”
“What about Tobias’ rule?” Sweat beaded on AJ’s brow, but if he could thwart Chaz’s plan in any way, better to do it now.
“Screw Tobias, man. What he don’t know won’t hurt him. So what do you say?”
This dude wouldn’t give up. “I’ll ask,” AJ lied.
Chaz arched his eyebrows, turned down the ends of his mouth. “Good.”
“Yeah. See you.” He strode away, not too hurriedly. He didn’t want to raise Chaz’s suspicions any further.
Chapter Thirteen
Grandpa bustled about the kitchen. He’d gone all out for dinner and made homemade crab cakes. “I thought maybe you and I could go out after dinner for a beer. Catch up with Mel and Sandra, eh?”
As if Mel and Sandra were AJ’s contemporaries, too. Why was AJ so damn popular all of a sudden? When he least wanted attention, people flocked around him. “Sorry, I can’t tonight.”
His grandfather harrumphed. “Don’t tell me you’re seeing her again?”
“I hope so.” AJ set out silverware and two plates. “Why don’t you go by yourself? You and Mel could chat at the bar.”
Grandpa set the skillet atop a trivet on the table. “No, no. I am not the type to hang out in bars alone.”
“You wouldn’t be alone. Mel would be there. And probably more of your friends.” His grandfather’s hermitlike life worried AJ. He was too young to shut himself away from the world. Away from another chance at something good.
Grandpa sat with a sigh. “Never mind. It was only a thought.”
“Hey, we’ll do it soon, OK?” He speared the dubious-looking crab cake onto his
fork and tasted it. “Mmm. Excellent.” He worked his jaw to keep the wince from showing.
His grandfather lifted a forkful. “Not as bad as I expected.” He set his sights on AJ. “Certainly not excellent.”
AJ shrugged. “Still within the range of excellence.”
Grandpa spat a laugh.
AJ gulped his milk, wishing for something stronger to kill the taste. “An excellent effort. It gives you something to aim for. You don’t want to achieve perfection right off the bat.”
His grandfather peered over his glasses. “And you should have been a politician.”
“Me? Never. I have too much soul.” He shoveled the last of his meal into his mouth.
Grandpa nodded. “Yes. You do at that.”
Though it was much too early, AJ couldn’t wait. “I have to go.” He carried his dishes to the sink.
Weariness infused his grandfather’s voice. “Leave those. I’ll take care of it.”
AJ took a long step and kissed the top of his grandfather’s head. “Thanks.”
From his room, he took his guitar, a pick and the playlist. He’d practice while he waited. She’d show. He had a good feeling. “Hey Grandpa, I’m going to take an old comforter, all right?”
A grumble from the kitchen was answer enough.
“See you.” He slung his guitar strap over his shoulder and the blanket over top. He couldn’t stop singing as he walked, and thinking of what songs she might like.
The beach was quiet. Only one couple walked in the distance with their dog. He liked it best when no one was around. Playing to a crowd felt great, but playing to an audience of one thrilled him more than he ever imagined. Watching her expression grow more intense in time with the music, seeing the admiration in her face.
He settled as close to the edge as he could without the spray reaching his guitar. The salt air probably corroded its finish already, but that couldn’t be helped. He smoothed an area large enough to comfortably fit her, and lay the comforter on it.
The songs flowed one into the other. Every so often, AJ paused to listen, but the only sounds were the gentle waves, the breeze. As he played on, the moon rose, its reflected rays stretching across the water. He stopped to check the time on his cell phone. Ten. Maybe she couldn’t get away. Maybe she wasn’t coming. He stared out over the bobbing waters. He’d stay awhile longer. Just in case.
A shadow flitted beneath the surface, and her head appeared.
His breath rushed from his lungs. “Cassiopeia. I knew you’d come.”
“I can’t stay long.” She pushed up out of the water. “What’s that.” Her gaze went to the blanket.
“It’s so you’d be more comfortable.” And close by.
She slid to the blanket and sat, her head down.
Afraid to even breathe, he didn’t move. “You have to stay awhile, at least. You have a lot of practicing to do.”
Her hair lifted in a breeze as she looked out to sea and sniffed.
“What’s wrong?” His fingers were at her shoulder before he could think.
A hardness set in her features as she gazed out over the sea. “I’m so sick of them. Telling me what I can and can’t do. What I should and shouldn’t do.”
He leaned closer. “Who, your parents?”
Her laugh held no humor. “My whole family. My sister’s going to the Mer Academy, so they expect me to follow. I’ve had enough studying. I want to do things, not read about them.” She glanced up at him. “Sorry. I had a bad day.”
“No, tell me. What’s the Mer Academy? Is it like college?” He stroked her hair lightly. She probably didn’t know what college was, but she seemed to pick up ideas quickly. He wished he knew half of what she knew, or what her world was like.
She knit her brows. “It’s so hypocritical. Human Studies—as if a mer can teach that. It’s only to reinforce the notion mers are superior to humans.” If she noticed his hand at her back, she didn’t acknowledge it. Instead, she touched a large rock, her fingers ran across its edges.
“I won’t argue. People are stupid.” Himself most of all. He’d wasted so much time, directionless. Cassie was smart enough to do whatever she wanted with her life.
In a motion quicker than he thought possible, she tossed the rock far out to sea. “The Mer Academy is nothing more than a mating ritual. My parents expect me to find a suitable merman and settle down.”
He tensed, and a hardness filled the pit of his stomach. “You’re not going to, are you?”
She whirled to face him. “No. All the mermen in our clan are idiots.” She softened her voice. “And mers mate for life. I don’t—”
“For life.” He wanted to add, So do humans–as if he could compete with a merman—but statistics proved otherwise. Except for his grandfather, he didn’t know many others who fell in love with one person for a lifetime.
Her eyes held a question he couldn’t decipher.
“What?” he asked.
She sighed. “You’re lucky. You’re not confined by where you live, or what you are.”
“Are you kidding? I’m confined by the same things you are–life, family expectations. Although I can’t say my mom expects much from me. My Grandpa sets me up with a job just to bring in a paycheck.” To complain about his grandfather felt like treason; he wasn’t ungrateful. More like dissatisfied, and more with himself than with Grandpa.
She searched his face. “You can’t use your job, or your mom’s low expectations, as an excuse not to do what you want to do.”
The truth of her words was like a slap to his ego. “What?” He sat straight, and withdrew his hand from her back.
“Your music. Isn’t that what you really want to do?”
He leaned away. “Yeah, but–”
“Then you shouldn’t give up on it.” Her insistence irritated him. She hardly knew him. Yet she knew the most important thing.
His tone sounded sharper than he intended. “I’m not. I took a break, that’s all. My band broke up.” He couldn’t tell her it had nothing to do with the music and everything to do with his own inability to control himself.
The flimsiness of his argument was obvious to himself. The skeptical look on her face told him he hadn’t fooled her.
A year ago, if any girl had said what she said, he’d have walked away without a thought, and never looked back. He struggled against the urge to stand, put space between them. More space wasn’t what he wanted. He wanted less.
He softened his voice, but it was laden with sarcasm. “I’m playing, aren’t I? And writing new songs.”
She glanced away.
Great. Now he’d hurt her, too. He had to break this funk.
“Anyway, I don’t want to talk about music. I want to create it.” Lifting his guitar, he held it toward her. “Can we?”
She swiped her cheek. “It sounds nothing like music when I try to create it.” She adjusted her tail in front of her, and sat regal as a princess. “I’d rather hear you play anyway.”
He’d rather have her hold the guitar, so he could sit behind her, but if playing would keep her here, he’d play all night. “OK. I put together a list of songs I think you’ll like.”
She tilted her head. “Any Neil Young?”
He ran his hand through his hair. “Wow, didn’t see that one coming. I could maybe fake one of his songs.”
Her face alight, she said, “Harvest Moon.”
At a loss for words, AJ stammered. “How do you…”
She explained, “A man and a woman sail their yacht to a certain spot all summer. She asks him to play that song, and they dance on the deck. Always during a full moon. The moon tonight reminded me of it. I haven’t heard it in awhile.”
He closed his eyes, hoping the song would come to him, but it eluded him. He knew he’d heard it, but…
“It starts with a guitar, very sweet chords.” She hummed the intro.
“Yeah, okay. I remember now.” He adjusted the guitar across his legs. “I’ll do my best.” He plucked t
he tune.
“A little faster.” She rocked her head to the beat, and he strummed faster to keep time. “There.” Her eyes widened with pleasure.
He stumbled on the opening, closing his eyes as he struggled to remember the words.
When she sang the opening, it seemed like an invitation to heaven. To come closer.
“Oh, right.” The song became more familiar. His voice mixed with hers into the first stanza. He followed her lips as they sang, laughing when she had to prompt him on the lyrics. When they’d reached the final verse, where the singer revealed his love, she harmonized the last line …on this harvest moon.
She rested her fingers near the strings as the vibrations faded.
AJ held himself still, though he wanted nothing more than to run his fingers through her dark hair. “You have a great voice. Do you sing… down there?”
Her lips pressed together in a half-smile, half-smirk. “Yes. We do all sorts of things ‘down there’.”
Of course they did. He sounded like an idiot. Or a bigot. “Sorry, I don’t know much about your people.”
“Mer people. Music is very important to us, the same as it is to ‘your people’.” She looked up at him, a sparkle in her eyes.
He relaxed, knowing she had been teasing. “What now?”
“Surprise me.” She rested her hands behind her and leaned back. Some of her hair fell behind her shoulders, but not enough to reveal her breasts. “Still looking for the clam shells?” she teased.
He looked away, warmth creeping up his neck. “No, I, uh…”
“Play, AJ.”
His hands moved automatically, gratefully. He finished the song, his hand poised in the air, the move he’d used onstage to add flair to the end.
Shifting her tail upward, she rested her elbows against the bend where her knees would have been. “That was nice. But don’t you know anything with a heavier beat? Something that rocks.”
She was full of surprises.
“You like rock music?”
“Nirvana, Foo Fighters. Anything with a strong guitar. Springsteen’s great, too.”
“Springsteen. OK.” He launched into Hungry Heart, his heart lightening when her head bounced to the beat. He followed with Foo Fighters, another U2, then thought he’d throw her a curve with Stevie Ray Vaughn.
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