“Good as new.” He feeds me a sweet grin.
My saliva must be pretty potent. He should be in the hospital. I sniff for confirmation that he’s alert, but don’t catch much beyond salt, and more salt. My nose must be worn out, too. I search his neck for signs of the bee sting, but don’t see a single mark. “How?”
“I don’t know.”
His hands seem steady on the wheel, and his gaze, alert. I rub my eyes but the sand scratches my lids, so I shut them. Just a moment to recharge.
The next thing I know, we’re in my driveway and Court is opening the door to the Jeep. He offers his hand, but I shake my head.
“I’m sorry I fell asleep,” I croak, thirsty all over again.
“You needed it.”
He collects my bike and bag. Soon, I am stumbling into the house. “Kitchen’s over there if you want something to drink or eat. Mind if I go put something on?”
“Sure.”
I ascend the staircase, taking a long whiff as I go. Dust motes. Pillow feathers. Dried violet blossoms. Thank the lilies, I still have my nose. Larkspur’s Last Word didn’t bite me.
Once in my bedroom, I step into clean underwear, then hastily wrap myself in my chenille bathrobe. It makes me look like a whorl of cotton candy, but after the suffocating grip of Melanie’s steamer, it feels like heaven against my skin. I stick my head out the window and shake the sand out of my hair.
The creaking stair warns me that Court’s on his way up.
“In here,” I call out.
He appears holding two full glasses of water.
“Thank you. You saved my life.”
He shrugs. “You saved mine, twice. So I still owe you.” As we gulp down our glasses, his eyes take in each of my possessions: the stuffed alpaca, the chipped mirror that never lies to me, and my bamboo alarm clock that currently reads 7:06. The wainscot surrounding the room suddenly strikes me as babyish, like the rails of a crib.
“I can’t believe I conked out. What happened?”
“Besides nearly drowning, you might have had vertigo. We learned about it in lifeguard school. The movement of the ocean can make you pass out.” He sets his glass down on my dresser next to my empty vial of BBG. “I don’t know how you did it, but you saved us. My throat was closing. I couldn’t see straight and everything was cramping inside. But when you kissed me, all of it stopped. I felt strong again, like I could do a triathlon.”
“I can’t explain it. Mother says we’re walking medicine cabinets.”
“So as long as I have you around, I’ll never fear a bee again.”
“As long as I’m around, there will be bees. I’m like honey to them.”
“You trying to scare me away?” He steps closer to me. “Because, if I had you around to kiss me, I might even want to get stung.”
His gaze brushes my mouth, and I start babbling. “What happened to your board?” I don’t remember him retrieving it after he helped me up the cliff.
“My board?” He takes my hand and tugs me even closer. His touch sends a shock down to my toes. “I sacrificed it to Poseidon. But your seaweed’s safe. I left it in the garden.”
My seaweed? Oh good gerbera, I nearly forgot. Most of the day is gone. I need to start sorting and processing the botanicals before everything loses its potency.
“You swam pretty good for someone who doesn’t know how to swim.” He puts his arms around me, goading my heart to a trot. “But when you let go, well, I’ve never been so scared in all my life.”
Now he’s studying my face like he did the room. His eyes rest on my forehead. Then they creep down to my nose with the bump. Finally, they land on my mouth, and there they stay for at least a count of ten. I’m sure he can hear my heart pounding, the whoosh of the blood racing through my veins, and maybe even the creaking of my knees as they buckle.
“I—I can’t—” Larkspur’s Last Word. I can’t fall into the trap. Think about Aunt Bryony. Mother.
“Can’t what?” he asks softly.
“This.” I stumble backward into the dress rack I forgot was behind me. I grab it before it falls.
“I don’t think your spray works on me. You said it should work immediately. But even after you sprayed me the first time, it didn’t change how I felt. I still spent a night writing cheesy Halloween poems for your candy grams.”
The candy grams were from him?
“Then you sprayed me again at Meyer, and nothing changed for me. If anything, I have it worse now.”