MAY 22

MAUD

Beneath a moody sky, the pastures behind the Watsons' remodeled farmhouse were the embodiment of a horse girl's fairytale. Accentuated by pockets of vibrant wildflowers and faded wood fencing, the stunning white stable was the crown jewel of the property.

I followed Nicki through the large doors of the stable, leading a beautiful Clydesdale by the reins. I'd always enjoyed horseback riding, and I enjoyed it even more now that I was alongside a handsome and charming guy who could very well pass as the prince of that fairytale.

"Gorgeous," Nicki said, and my heart nearly jumped out of my chest before I realized that he was addressing his Clydesdale. "He's absolutely gorgeous."

I cleared my throat, heat tickling my neck. "How old did you say Braveheart is?"

"Ten, but he still acts like a baby." He affectionately stroked Braveheart's muzzle and sighed. "This is probably the last full summer I'll spend on the island. My parents will force me to intern in the ER at UW Medical instead of giving tennis lessons."

"It's the best hospital in Seattle and the state," I acknowledged, remembering the sign outside the impressive building from when I toured the University of Washington with Syd during our junior year of high school. "That internship would look great on your application for medical school."

Nicki scrunched up his nose as he secured the latch on the stall. "Would you be offended if I said you sounded a hell of a lot like my mother just now?"

"Maybe. I wouldn't risk it."

He laughed, and the sound left me feeling like there was a pocket of sunshine inside my chest. It was impossible not to like him because aside from the dimples and intelligent blue eyes, he radiated the kind of energy that pulled people in. I'd recently concluded that he was good at pretty much everything, and I considered telling him as much, but I appreciated how humble he was.

Being humble isn't taught, I thought. Either you're humble, or you're not.

"Anyway," I continued, feeling my mind drifting elsewhere. I'd spent the last few days contemplating what to do with the photos of the Black Swan, and needed to take action. "That was fun."

"I figured we both could use a distraction," Nicki said with a bright grin. "I can pick you up tomorrow for brunch or you're welcome to spend the night."

My throat tightened. The last time the six of us were together was at Cape Blue on May 16th, and that hadn't ended well for anyone.

"I don't see the point of brunch," I said, running my hand over the smooth wood gate of Braveheart's stall. "Also, what business does Brenna Quinn have bossing us around?"

"It was mostly Syd's idea," Nicki pointed out, referencing the text he'd sent to us. "I don't think it's a bad one."

"It'll be like talking about politics at Thanksgiving." I massaged my temples. "There's too much underlying controversy."

Nicki's mouth twitched in response to my poor attempt at a joke, but he didn't seem keen on backing down. "Dakota and Brenna obviously know a lot more about Apex's screenplay than we do, and they can help us prevent whatever might happen next."

That thought hadn't even occurred to me. Would other events from the screenplay come to pass, too? Unfortunately, there were only two people who might be willing to clue us in, and one was likely harboring a grudge against me.

"The photos you printed could help with the police's investigation," Nicki continued. "We shouldn't be withholding that kind of information, regardless of whether or not it's true."

"What?" I gaped at him. I'd probably be less shocked if he'd said those three words. "We can't give anything to the police! Not when I arguably obtained some of it illegally."

"Then we can lead them to it," he suggested, and I momentarily resented his strong moral compass that usually aligned with mine. "It's the right thing to do."

My cheeks started to burn, and I averted my gaze, trying to push away the thought of another dead orca washing up on the beach.

"There are other things I'd rather do on a Saturday morning," I eventually retorted and hesitated before continuing. "Dakota and I haven't talked. We argued at Providence Point, and it probably could've been avoided if I didn't go behind his back again."

When my eyes focused on Nicki once more, I noted the tiny crease between his eyebrows, and I worried I'd made a mistake.

"I'm sorry," I blurted out. "That's probably a weird thing for me to say...I wasn't thinking."

Nicki shrugged, leaning back against a wooden post. "That's okay. You don't have to explain."

"But I should," I insisted, grateful he was aware that I'd submitted Dakota's film. It spared me the pain of reliving the apex of the heartbreak. "We blame each other, even when we say we don't. The denial is why everything is messy and unresolved. We both want it to be water under the bridge, but it's hard to know when to quit."

I swallowed hard, suddenly feeling a little exposed. There was no easy way to discuss a breakup, especially when Nicki had yet to see my flaws for himself. I was also trying to avoid vilifying Dakota because that was unfair and wrong of me to do.

"You owe it to yourself to figure out what you need." Nicki's jaw briefly tensed before he exhaled a long sigh. "I won't stand in the way of that."

My eyes widened in surprise, and I shook my head. "There's nothing left to figure out. I ended things, but I don't want every conversation with him to feel like we're a tinderbox."

"I understand. I swear that I do."

"Then tell me if something is wrong," I said, nerves fluttering in my stomach. "Is something wrong?"

"I don't know how to navigate this," Nicki confessed, his shoulders sinking slightly. "I asked myself if it might be too soon, but I didn't want to miss this chance because I didn't know if I'd get another."

I straightened. "With me?"

"Yeah, with you. I wanted this chance ever since we met at that stupid summer carnival five years ago." My expression must've reflected my shock because he grimaced. "And shit, now I sound like a lunatic, but you're worth the wait. I can still wait, but not in the middle."

"What do you want this to be?"

"I'm happy with what we've got going," Nicki answered, color creeping into his cheeks. "Call it a fling or friends with benefits or whatever you want because I'm happy with this."

Biting the inside of my cheek, I decided to give him a little verbal push. "But?"

"But I hope we can talk about things when we need to talk about them," he admits with a half-smile.

I suddenly felt conflicted. I read into the meaning behind Nicki's words, because of course, we talked about things, but just not the kind of things that involved unveiling vulnerability. I still believed that it would only complicate what I wanted to remain uncomplicated, and besides, the physical aspect of our relationship couldn't be better. Sure, we both had a wealth of experience that contributed to that, but chemistry didn't always come naturally.

I reluctantly recalled the first time I'd slept with someone after breaking things off with Dakota - a one-night stand courtesy of a dating app, and how insanely uncoordinated it was. Between the sloppy kissing and the awkward maneuvering of limbs, I could hardly focus on fulfilling my singular goal of the night: get over my ex.

Thankfully, chemistry had never been a problem with Nicki, and I doubted anything remotely similar to my one-night stand would ever transpire. It was no secret that he was interested in making our relationship official with labels and all, but he wasn't the type of guy who thought in terms of all or nothing. Not even close. After all, the foundation of a healthy relationship was mutual trust and compromise.

So, I compromised, testing the waters of emotional vulnerability. "Good because you're the person I enjoy talking about things with," I admitted quietly.

The corners of Nicki's mouth lifted, but he narrowed his eyes almost imperceptibly. "I don't want to overstep any boundaries, and I don't want you to feel like I'm asking too much-"

I didn't wait to hear the end of his sentence.

Rocking up onto my tip-toes, I brushed my lips against his, soft and somewhat hesitant as though this was the first time. For a heartbeat, I thought he was going to pull away, but that thought extinguished as his hand slid into my hair and kissed me back, slow but earnest.

All thoughts of brunch and heartbreak melted away as I snaked a hand around the back of his neck to pull him closer. At some point, my back pressed up against the wall with my legs wrapped around his waist.

"Was the carnival thing too much?" Nicki asked between kisses, and I could hear the smile in his voice.

"Maybe a little melodramatic but also charming," I mused, toying with the neckline of his t-shirt. "Like an early 2000s romantic comedy."

"I can live with that."

I leaned my forehead against his. "I can too."

*

Long after Nicki had fallen asleep beside me, I lay awake, staring at the crown molding of the ceiling. Along with the cold breeze of the night entering through the screen of the open bedroom window, the sound of branches swaying kept me alert. I propped myself up on one elbow, and reached for my phone to send the two emails that would catapult everything into motion.

My eyes strained against the bright white light of the screen as I opened the online submission box for The Seattle Chronicle. It required me to include my contact information. I took care to cite my sources and provided direction as to where the information could be verified. It was a longshot, but I was willing to take it.

Next, I copied the same information into the online tip line for Friday Island's Police Department. While it didn't require my contact information, I suspected that it wouldn't be long before all of the signs pointed back to me.

Pinching my eyes shut, I hit send and fell back onto the mattress with a soft thud.

"Oops," I whispered to the darkness.

Next to me, Nicki stirred and mumbled something incomprehensible. There was a part of me that wanted to wake him up and tell him what I'd done, but nothing would change between now and when the sun came up. It never did.