Chapter Nine

THE next few days went pretty much the same. A morning dive with Adam, lunch together, and another dive in the afternoon. A German couple and twins from the south of France joined them on dives. Not as nice as diving alone with Adam, but the weather was perfect and the water crystal clear.

Nearly every night, Adam and Jonah had shared a drink at the bar in the main lobby. Conversation had been comfortable, but when it was time to pack it in for the night, Jonah made his excuses and retreated to his room. It wasn’t what Jonah wanted, but Adam would be flying home on Monday morning. Sleeping alone was easier. Or so Jonah told himself. He was now having second, third, and fourth thoughts about keeping Adam at arm’s length.

“Dinner?” Adam asked after the rest of the dive group had stowed their gear in the bins and left for happy hour on the beach.

“I can’t tonight. Saturday nights I’m on dance duty at Club Paradise.” Not his favorite job, but he got bonuses when guests mentioned him by name.

“Dance duty?” Adam pressed his lips together in an obvious effort to avoid a smile. Jonah gave him a lot of credit for not laughing out loud.

“It’s not as interesting as it sounds. Not that the women aren’t good company, but—”

“Only women?”

“There’s nothing that says I can’t dance with men,” Jonah admitted, “but I haven’t had any ask me yet.”

“I guess I’ll have to enjoy dinner at the beach on my own. Last I heard, they were roasting a pig or some other large animal. There’s a show with some local dancers.”

“Drinks at eleven?” Jonah asked. “I have a break until midnight.”

“I’ll meet you in the lobby bar.” Adam hesitated a moment, and Jonah guessed he’d been tempted to kiss him, but instead he waved and headed down the path. In the right direction.

Jonah grabbed a quick bite at the restaurant near the pool, then showered and changed into the only pair of long pants—khaki, of course—he owned. He grabbed a white button-down shirt with the hotel logo on it and thanked God he didn’t have to wear a tie. The pants were uncomfortable enough.

He eyed himself in the bathroom mirror, then brushed his hair. Already it was drying in waves. He really should cut it, but he’d gotten used to pulling it back after washing it and not having to worry about regular trips to the barber. Tonight, instead of the usual ponytail, he decided he’d leave some of it down.

That’ll do. He hadn’t been working at the hotel long enough to have attended more than two of the dances, but he’d quickly learned that the tips were better and the women more interested if they could play with his hair. He didn’t mind, but thoughts of Adam doing the same led to other thoughts, and—

Focus! He closed his eyes and recalled the time he’d come nose-to-snout with a tiger shark. Almost as good as a cold shower.

He slipped his badge over his head, then remembered the diamond stud he’d picked up at the gift shop the week before. It wasn’t real, but he liked it. He retrieved the earring from his dresser. It caught the overhead light and sent tiny flashes of color around the room, reminding Jonah of a disco ball at a high school dance. He could almost hear the music pounding and someone laughing as he watched from the side of the gymnasium.

“Aren’t you going to dance?” Carole said and pushed him toward a group of girls.

He pulled away from her and saw Jason Cavender eyeing him from the dessert table. The two beers he’d drunk before coming had combined with the hits he’d taken off Karl Oberdorf’s joint a few minutes before, and he felt invincible. “Fuck this.” It wasn’t as if he’d see any of these people again once he left for college.

He walked over to Jason, knowing Carole was watching. He didn’t care. “Wanna dance?” he asked.

Jonah came back to himself and realized he was still holding the stud. He slipped it in with a shaking hand and did his best to brush away the memories. He’d have a few drinks at the club before he met up with Adam. Clear his mind. He needed to focus on something other than memories.

THE dance club, which had signs posted outside for bingo on Sundays, a musical revue on Tuesdays, and a comedy club on Wednesdays, was already filling up. Adam sat at the corner of the bar, sipping on a frilly drink with whipped cream and an umbrella. The drink tasted more like dessert—not his thing. Then again, neither was dancing. Tonight he’d come because his curiosity had won out.

Jonah arrived about fifteen minutes after Adam. By then Adam had graduated to tequila shots. The house brand was barely drinkable, but after the first, he didn’t really taste it anymore. The next morning was Sunday, and the dive shop was closed, so he wasn’t concerned about how the alcohol might affect him.

Jonah waved to the bartender, who gave him a thumbs-up and said something to the group of women sipping on drinks with fruit skewers and tiny paper umbrellas. They turned around to look at him, then whispered to each other and giggled. Adam didn’t blame them for drooling over Jonah. From his tousled hair to the single diamond earring he sported, the man looked perfectly edible.

Jonah walked over to the bar, and the women giggled again. Jonah nibbled on his lip while they talked and laughed. Adam imagined doing the same to those full lips before tasting Jonah’s mouth. He imagined unbuttoning Jonah’s shirt to reveal the honeyed skin beneath, then exploring Jonah’s nipples with his teeth and tongue.

Shit. At this rate he would need a cold shower back at his hotel room. Each time their fingers brushed, each ephemeral touch made Adam’s heart take off at a gallop. He felt like a kid all over again, drooling over a first crush.

One of the women stood, and Jonah led her onto the dance floor. He gave a quick glance in the direction of the DJ, who nodded, and the music quickly morphed from nineties rock to salsa. Some of the guests who had been dancing moved back to their tables, while others watched from the sidelines as Jonah led the woman through a simple salsa step, then took her hand and spun her around. She faltered and nearly tripped on her long skirt, but Jonah gracefully wrapped an arm about her waist and pulled her toward him.

Nicely done. Jonah could definitely dance. His hips gyrated smoothly to the beat, and the intensity of his expression made Adam wish he was the one dancing with Jonah instead.

Jonah repeated the basic salsa steps with all but one woman, who was obviously too embarrassed to join him. He murmured something in her ear before making his way to the end of the bar where Adam thought he wasn’t visible.

“Hiding?” he said with a rakish grin.

“Me?” Adam was sure his cheeks were now bright pink.

Jonah extended his hand, which Adam eyed warily. “You sure this is okay?” Adam asked.

Jonah shrugged and flashed a devilish smile, part kid about to raid the cookie jar, part Casanova. Entirely too charming and utterly unlike anything Adam had ever seen from him before. “Afraid I’ll let you fall?”

Adam raised an eyebrow. “Bring it on, Fred.”

“Does that make you Ginger?” Jonah quipped and pulled Adam onto the dance floor.

“If the shoe fits. I guess this means you’re leading?”

“Would you prefer to lead?” Jonah’s words were issued as a challenge.

“Not at all. You were doing a terrific job making the ladies look good. I figure I’m in good hands.”

Jonah laughed and spun Adam around, then stared at him. “You’re a ringer.”

“Who, me?”

Jonah swung Adam out, then pulled him back again so Adam stood against Jonah’s chest. The moved their hips, gyrating to the Latin beat as some of the onlookers began to cheer them on.

“Total ringer.” Jonah seemed pleased. “Where did you learn to dance?”

“My parents were old-school. They thought boys and girls both should know how to dance. I studied swing and ballroom with my sister until I was old enough to figure out it wasn’t cool. I usually try to avoid it at all costs. You?”

“Picked it up on the island,” Jonah explained as they pulled apart, hands momentarily separated. Then Adam turned and their hands met again. “I realized I was pretty good at it, so I took a few lessons.”

“A few?”

Jonah nibbled his lower lip as they spun together, chest-to-chest. “A few years’ worth?”

“That I believe.”

“I stopped when I left Punta Cana.” Jonah spun Adam again, and Adam did an extra turn for good measure. “Nicely done.”

“Thank you.” The music ended a moment later, and Adam neatly pirouetted so he was face-to-face with Jonah, their lips only inches apart. The crowd applauded and Adam’s brain kicked back in. Of course he couldn’t kiss Jonah here. Instead he pulled away and bowed formally, then made his way back to his seat at the bar.

Adam watched Jonah dance for nearly an hour. Now he had a half-dozen women on the floor for a brief salsa lesson. Throughout it all, Jonah remained charming and patient. It was Adam who started feeling antsy. He’d finished his drink and hesitated to have another, but if he had to sit here and watch Jonah flirt a minute more….

You’re jealous.

It didn’t matter that it was Jonah’s job; Adam needed to get out of the club. He pulled out his phone and tapped it: 10:43 p.m. He’d head over to the lobby bar and wait for Jonah.