giving us a quick overview of our itinerary and the safety rules for the trip. Once we’re all set and the boat is pulling out, I reach into the bag to grab the sunscreen I packed, offering it to Bishop.
“Here, don’t want your skin to burn.”
“Thank you.” He squeezes some into his hands and then rubs it all over his face and the back of his neck.
“You missed a bit.” I help rub in the smear of white that’s left behind on the tip of his nose, following it with a kiss right on the spot. He laughs, and the sound settles in my chest, bringing a smile to my lips.
“This is beautiful,” he sighs when we settle onto the seats, the ocean spray hitting my face, the sun warming my skin.
“This is fantastic. At this moment, California is officially my favorite place I’ve lived so far.”
“You mentioned you move around a lot; where all have you lived?”
“I left Pennsylvania when I was nineteen, and I started by bouncing around the East coast, hitting pretty much every state there. After that, I worked my way West. I lived a short time in Missouri, Illinois, Texas, Colorado, and now here.”
“Wow.” He leans against me, and I lift my arm so he can get closer, his head falling against my shoulder as we look out over the sparkling water. “I’ve never lived anywhere but here.”
“I think that’s the case for most people. There’s nothing wrong with staying where you grew up. I’ve just always had this itch under my skin. I’ve never felt like I belonged anywhere, so I keep moving, hoping one day I’ll find the place that fits.”
“We’re coming up on a spot where I usually find a pod of dolphins,” the captain announces, ending our conversation for the moment as we both get up to go to the railing so we can get a good look.
“Oh look, there’s one.” Bishop points, leaning over the railing as a dolphin breaks the surface of the water. “This is the most amazing thing ever.”
More dolphins appear, and the captain stops the boat so we can sit and watch as they leap and play in the water.
“This is the coolest date I’ve ever been on,” he says leaning into me.
“Me too,” I agree, kissing his cheek and tasting the sunscreen on his skin.
Bishop
I’m giddy and floating by the time the cruise ends. I do my best not to pout about having to get off the boat when we pull back into the marina, but I swear I could’ve spent another five hours watching the dolphins and enjoying the beautiful day out on the water.
My stomach growls as we get back into Riot’s car.
“I was just about to ask if you were hungry,” he says with a laugh.
“Starving.”
“In the mood for anything in particular?”
“Not seafood,” I joke.
“Feeling too connected to ocean life at the moment?” he guesses with a grin.
“Exactly. Let’s eat a cow or something instead.”
“What about pasta? Feeling any particular emotional attachment to grains?”
“Pasta is perfect,” I agree.
Riot seems to have a place in mind, because in no time at all, we’re pulling into a cute little Italian restaurant. When we get out of the car, he takes my hand again without hesitation. I haven’t dated much, but none of the guys I did bother going out with ever made me feel so special. He wears his heart on his sleeve and doesn’t seem like he’s trying to hide anything. It’s refreshing.
The hostess seats us and the waiter stops by quickly to take our order.
“Tell me something,” I say once the waiter leaves us alone.
“What do you want to know?” Riot asks, running a hand through his hair to push the lilac strands back out of his face, putting his elbows on the table and leaning forward slightly, his eyes holding me captive, the hint of a smile shining in them.
“Anything, everything.”
“Everything?” he repeats, his tone holding a hint of teasing.
“Until now, the only men I’ve truly fallen for are my best friends since childhood. It seems you and I have a lot of ground to cover before I feel like I know you that well.”
He chuckles. “That’s a fair point,” he agrees. “I have a thing for sci-fi.”
“Sci-fi?” I repeat. That wasn’t exactly the sort of deep, dark secret I expected him to reveal. “Like Star Trek and stuff?”
He nods. “Name any sci-fi show that aired in the last forty years, no matter how obscure, and I’ve probably seen it. I