“Wow,” I breathe, barely able to react.
“I know.” Kent takes my hand and leads me to the big outdoor couch, where he spoons me in our nearly naked state, clothes dropped to the wooden planks, forgotten. “I used to come up here as a kid when my dad came over to hang out with Martin. My brother and I.”
“I could imagine a whole life in this place. Lounging up here on the balcony every morning, seeing the sunrise.”
“Well, technically the sun would rise over there,” says Kent, pointing, “since this balcony faces north …”
“Details, details. Quit ruining my fantasy.”
He laughs, squeezing me. Then his voice turns soft and pensive. “Y’know, I’ve lived here my whole life, so … I see a lot of this differently than you probably do. It isn’t all that exotic at times. But even with a view like this … I feel like there’s always … something … missing.”
“You and your brother …” I smile to myself, picturing it. “You guys used to be close, huh?”
Kent draws quiet.
Okay, I kinda went straight in. “Sorry. I just … saw you looking at him earlier when he was dancing all over that guy. I kinda imagined what you were thinking.”
“Yet still, you asked me what’s on my mind.” He lets out a soft sigh in my ear. “Guess it was obvious.”
“I also noticed at breakfast, earlier today. The tension between you and your mom about your brother coming. Or rather, his not coming. Maybe you and your brother have unresolved resentments, like me and Rico.”
“He’s been getting under my skin since we were kids. Nothing new there.”
“But then he sabotaged a serious relationship you had just to prove some point? Isn’t that what you said?”
“Well …” Kent growls suddenly. I feel his body tighten up behind me. “I usually hate reliving this stuff or talking it out, but … suddenly I’m realizing I don’t have anyone to talk this out with. None of my friends on the island are far enough away from the situation to give any helpful advice. Every damned person here knows Adrian.”
That statement is more than true for the gay guys on the island, I imagine. “You’ve got my ears.”
“I do. So … yeah,” he finally concedes. “Adrian stole a guy from me, a guy I was kinda serious about. It was like … punishment for breaking the rule of—”
“—of not falling for tourists, right,” I finish for him. “But have you ever considered if Adrian might not see it as punishing you? Maybe he thinks he was protecting you.”
He snorts. “Seriously?”
“Totally. Sure, there are other reasons he could have done it: narcissism, ego, jealousy, whatever. But y’know what seems the most likely? He’s been hurt before, too.”
Kent lets out a sudden laugh, my whole body shaking from his laughter. “Sorry, sorry,” he quickly says, fighting his laughter. “I just can’t picture my brother giving a shit about anything other than what he’s got in his pants. The dude’s too full of pride.”
“He is a guy with a lot of pride,” I agree, “but that only proves my point. He’s too proud to admit when he’s hurt.”
“Can we stop talking and just make out?”
“All I’m saying is … for someone whose name around the island is literally the Heart Crusher … maybe someone crushed his heart first.”
Kent draws silent.
I stare ahead in suspense, wondering if those words are sinking in.
“I’ll tell you what I’m amazed by.”
His words are breath against the back of my neck. I turn slightly. “What?”
“Your … sensitivity. Your capacity for understanding others. It’s almost annoying, how sensible you are.”
I find myself smiling. I think it’s the first time someone expressed gratitude for those oftentimes pesky traits my parents instilled in me.
“The depth of your soul,” Kent goes on. “So fucking deep, you could just … you could just drop down into it and be lost forever.”
I swallow. “Sounds scary.”
“You’re dangerous.”
I sit up and look down at him. “Dangerous?”
“Yeah. Dangerous.” He rolls onto his back and stares up at me, stars glittering in his eyes. “Maybe they’re right. My brother included. It’s not a good idea to get my heart wrapped up in a guy like you.”
“A guy like me …?”
“Yeah. You’re like the deep end of the pool. Meant for the serious swimmers only. Shallow water might be safer, in and out, no danger—and this island is full of shallow water—but your waters are darker, deeper … and so much more beautiful.” He swallows. “And dangerous.”
I’m moved. “Didn’t realize you’re such a poetic type.”
“I’m not.”
I smirk, then lean down and fold my arms across his chest, bringing my face right up to his. “Is your point that you can’t swim? Or you’re afraid to?”
I can feel his heart racing. I want to kiss him. Badly. “It’s already tomorrow. Soon, you’ll leave.”