Despite the deep sleep on board, I wake up with the sun. I know the boat isn’t exactly the outdoors, considering how soft the bed and how luxurious the accommodations, but I still slept like I was camping out in the woods. Somehow, when you get out of the city and out of your daily routine, you quickly revert to more natural rhythms of sleeping and waking. Even the exertions of yesterday, by day and night, weren’t enough to keep me sleeping in late.

Blake is still asleep. I can see the rounded muscles of his back and shoulders as he lies on his stomach, breathing slowly and deeply. I take careful steps out of the main cabin and into the salon, so as not to wake him, and go up onto the deck. The morning air is chilly and there is a light mist hanging over the wooded islands around our anchorage. It is silent except for the gentle lapping of water against the hull and the occasional call of an early rising bird. Sitting on a cushion, I pull my sweater down over my knees to keep warm and think about what I am going to do.

Before we fell asleep last night, Blake again invited me to come to Greece with him. I was surprised at how much he knew about the ancient Mediterranean. He seemed genuinely interested in what I studied in college. We talked for a while about Athenian politics in the run-up to the Peloponnesian War and the relative strengths of Herodotus and Thucydides as historians. I didn’t keep up with any of my friends from college who were in my major. Neither Hannah nor April were much interested in history. But talking with Blake had rekindled my interest, brought me back to that sense of passion about the past that had drawn me to the major in the first place.

Blake told me that he was going to Greece to meet with a client and invited me to come with him. He kept his boat in the Aegean and would take me around some of the famous islands and archaeological sites. He even knew some underwater sites. It sounded amazing. I almost said yes right away. But for some reason, I hesitated, wavered.

Sitting on this beautiful yacht in the chill of a Maryland morning, I fantasize about the white rocks and turquoise water of the Greek islands. I can see myself in a bikini, or less, stretched out on Blake’s yacht as we sail from island to island, swimming in deserted coves and making love under the stars. It all sounds perfect. Too perfect.

I think back to that friend of Blake’s, Trevor. He had warned me that Blake could be fickle, that he could be all in one moment and then drop me the next. I can feel myself getting sucked in, beginning to fall overboard, as it were. I have to make sure I protect myself. I want a man who will be there, no matter what. I don’t need the drama of someone who won’t show up, but then tries to make up for it with a big, showy gesture. And I’m just not sure, yet what kind of guy Blake really is. I am happy I gave him this second chance. I mean, it was a great day – and night. But I don’t think I can just jet off to Greece with him, throw my whole life out of whack, for someone I don’t know if I can really rely on. I will have to give it more time.

I hear a stirring below deck. Blake must be awake. I decide to wait up here and continue watching the sunrise over the island to the west. The mist is beginning to melt away under the steadily increasing sunlight. By the time it is gone, Blake has arrived on deck carrying two cups of coffee. The rich, dark, hot liquid is a welcome addition to an already perfect morning.

“Sleep well?” Blake asks, breaking the silence of the little cove.

“I did. I was just enjoying the sunrise. I can’t remember the last time I woke up with the sun when I didn’t have to.”

“I love the sunrises here.” Blake looks around the horizon with a wistful expression. “You know, I’ve sailed all over the world, some of the most exotic places you can imagine like the Skeleton Coast of Namibia or Svalbard Island, as well as the usual – the Whitsundays, Virgin Islands, all over the Med. But I still never get tired of sailing here. I grew up on these waters. My dad taught me to sail a little dinghy right around these islands. No matter where I go, I always seem to come back here.”

I watch as he drifts off into reminiscence. It is nice to see his fondness for his childhood home, his deep memories of the places and events that formed him. It gives me an insight into who he really is.

We finish our coffee in silence, enjoying the calm, quiet morning together without conversation. I am amazed by the fact that the silence doesn’t feel awkward at all. Even though we have spent only two nights together, one of which was in just about the oddest circumstances I ever imagined, I feel comfortable with him in ways I never did with boyfriends I was with for much longer.

Once the cups have been cleaned and stowed, Blake raises the anchor and points us back toward Annapolis. There is no breeze to speak of, so the electric engine powers us quietly across the glassy calm surface of the Bay. All the way back, we don’t speak. Blake focuses on the boat and I stare off into the horizon. I am trying to decide whether to take him up on his offer.

On the one hand, who would turn down a free trip to Greece with a hot guy on his yacht? I call myself a fool for even thinking about saying no. But at the same time, I am worried. I haven’t fallen this hard, this fast for anyone. I haven’t even been in love with anyone for a long time. I feel like this is too fast. I mean, just the other day I was sure I was done with this guy. I can look past standing me up with no explanation to a degree, but I can’t entirely forget it. And I can’t just open my heart completely to him as a result.

The sun is shining warm on my skin when Blake pulls the boat back into its slip, leaping lightly onto the dock to tie her up. He holds my hand as I step from the deck onto the stairs.

“Thank you for a wonderful night.”

“Have you given any thought to Greece?”

In my head, of course, I have been rolling this question over since last night. I am no closer to a firm decision. Then it hits me. If I am hesitating, if I am not sure, then I definitely should not go. I should only go if I am one hundred percent. And I am nowhere near that.

“Um, thank you so much, seriously. I just don’t think I can go.”

Blake’s face doesn’t give anything away, but I think I can see he is disappointed.

“It all sounds great, of course, I just don’t think I’m ready.”

“Ok.” Blake nods. “I understand. Well, I hope you will come sailing with me again when I get back in a couple of weeks.”

“Of course,” I say with genuine enthusiasm. I don’t want to close the door on this guy; I just don’t know if I can really trust him, yet.