Be Brave With Me

Chapter Eight

As they sped towards Big Trunk's private beach past the other yachts in the bay, the lights of Mykonos rose up in the hills in front of them. They looked like a cluster of stars had fallen straight from the sky and settled here on the island. No wonder so many of the beautiful and famous flocked to this corner of the world. They came here to bathe in its star dust, hoping some of it would cling to their skin when they had to leave again.

Aura wrapped her arms around herself, trying to rub away the goosebumps on her own. She was cold. Cold, and nervous, and on edge.

What a glorious combination heading into a night that was supposed to be full of heat and fun and loose morals.

She wasn't feeling up to it, to any of it.

Not with the traces of her hangover from last night still lingering in her temples. Not with that one phone call still missing. Not with Theo back in her life for the summer.

She had tried to ignore him as best as she could all afternoon. And still, she had had to redo the paint on her toe nails four times.

She looked back out into the bay once more but other yachts obstructed her view of the Plan B. Her view of him watching her leave.

It should be the other way around. She wanted to be the one who was watching him leave. Why didn't he want to understand? Why didn't he do as he was asked?

Spending an entire summer together again... he surely couldn't want that? Why did he want to stay on board? Why did he choose to wait on her? After everything she'd done to him?

She certainly didn't want him on board. Having him and all the memories he brought along back in her life, it would distract her from everything she was planning to achieve this summer.

Case in point: She was craning her neck and risking toppling out of the dinghy while trying to catch one last look of Theo - rather than facing ahead and recalling tonight's game plan.

She had been so focused on getting ready, and ignoring her silent phone, and Theo's eyes boring into her... she only remembered half of Jess' timeline for tonight.

8:43 p.m. Take your first shots of the night. (Remember: Lots of booze in as little time as possible.)

9:24 p.m. Loose your shoes and take your hair down.

10:51 p.m. Make out with hot model OR aspiring actor OR tortured lead singer.

11:21 p.m. ...

Shit. What was she supposed to do at 11:21 p.m. again?

She wasn't sure. She wasn't sure of anything. Not anymore.

Not since Theo - of all people, Theo! - had turned up. How was she supposed to be sure of anything when something like that could happen? Out of the blue? On her godparents' boat of all places?

She needed that timeline. She needed someone to tell her what to do tonight. She needed someone to reassure her. A pat on her head and a long hug. Someone telling her that everything was going to work out exactly like she'd wanted it to for the past eight years. Someone to whisper in her ear that this was all worth it.

That she was worth it. That they would call.

Next to her, Fipp came close enough. He wrapped one arm around her with a warm smile and rubbed furiously along her shoulders and arms to heat up her skin. His kind gesture didn't help much, though.

Her dress was just a fancy napkin in disguise. Less than a napkin, really.

A pocket square.

A lovely looking one, to be sure. But it didn't offer much cover against the biting wind.