To make it worse, the clams were getting harder and harder to find. Every day, we had to dig a little deeper, wade out a little farther. We’d exhausted our supplies, and now, we didn’t have a choice but to push ourselves to find alternatives.
The sun appeared on the horizon, spreading its pink glow across the ocean. My eyes drifted to the sea. Below the surface existed plenty of food. However, we had no fishing implements, no way of catching the slippery devils.
We need to change that.
It was time for the next stage. Evolve or die. Life wasn’t kind to those who didn’t help themselves.
My ribs and chest were mostly healed and nowhere near as painful. Conner had taken the strap off his wrist and claimed he could use it with only a small twinge, and Pippa’s shoulder had scarred neatly.
Galloway was the only one still unwell. His ankle gave him grief. He couldn’t move without his crutch. He pretended he was okay, but I could tell he was lying.
He glared at his leg, cursed his disability, acted as if he’d sooner chop it off than wait for his body to fix.
For a week now, I’d had the horrible thought that perhaps his shin, ankle, and foot would never heal properly. What if his bones were crooked and no matter how they knitted together, he would always limp?
Don’t think that way.
I bit my lip, resorting to a habit I’d begun and couldn’t stop. I gnawed on the sides of my cheeks, too, slowly eroding the flesh with stress. My teeth constantly felt furry as the toothpaste had run out and our toothbrush bristles slowly softened with use.
Last week, I’d taught the others what Madeleine had shown me when we’d gone on a double date and a seed from dinner wedged into my teeth. When Madi had taught me, I’d been in awe of the simple (but frankly rather gross) suggestion.
Hair.
A girl with long hair could tweak out a strand and use it as dental floss. Every night, I pulled a few free and passed them to Conner and Galloway. Pippa used her own, and together, we did our best with dental hygiene.
Soap had become seawater and sand and the sun kept us so hot that we sweated freely without smelling. As far as cleanliness went, we’d adapted. Even my hair had balanced in oils and no longer looked greasy but salt-sprayed and crinkled with sun-encouraged curls.
Sunburn was also avoided as we managed to stay in the shade at the height of the day and covered up when we had no choice but to be at its mercy.
Our way of living had advanced, our friendship deepened, our family group wedged firmly in my heart.
I loved them.
I couldn’t deny it.
I loved Pippa with her steely temper and quick-fire questions.
I loved Conner and his teenage need to prove himself.
And...
I loved Galloway.
I loved the way he dropped what he was doing if the children summoned him. I loved how he watched them sleep when he thought I wasn’t watching. I loved the way he left hibiscus flowers for me in the mornings when I went to collect firewood. I loved the way he made me feel as if everything he ever needed dwelled right inside my soul.
And I loved the way he spoke of grand plans of building a raft and sailing us to freedom—even though we’d had many conversations about how suicidal that would be: leaving the safety of land to bob around an ocean with no navigation or propulsion.
Ignoring logistics, Galloway was adamant he would rescue us.
And because of that...I loved him.
But was I in love with him?
Was it love with a use-by-date? Would it fade the moment we were found and returned to separate worlds? Was it love born of survival or truth? Or perhaps was it our circumstances and the fact that I’d have no one without him? Or was it providence...fate?
Despite perpetual hunger pangs, my body constantly desired him.
I’d wake from a dream with resonating clenches from a sleep-enjoyed orgasm. I’d excuse myself and swim when my turned-on wetness threatened to be noticeable on my cotton shorts.
He drove me insane; he drove me happy. He made me want to care for him while accepting his care in return.
Was that love?
I’d lost everything and been dropped in the middle of nowhere with strangers. Strangers who’d become the most important people in the world.
I love them.
And because of that, I wouldn’t let them perish from malnutrition.
I had to do something.
Today.
Unwinding from my position, I shrugged out of my black t-shirt and slipped down my shorts. Skinny-dipping wasn’t normally done, but everyone was asleep and I didn’t want to wear wet clothes once I’d finished.
Wading into the warm tide, I exhaled as I dropped below the surface.
The current flowed around me, some cool, some hot, all of it gentle and protective. Swimming bare allowed the sinful sensation of water against my sex and nipples. I felt naughty. I felt turned on. I felt beyond ready to invite Galloway to take the next step.
He’d been the perfect gentleman the past few weeks. Never pushy, no matter how much lust crackled between us.