The Cove

By Friday, the *Gilded Osprey* was purring like a kitten. The vibration was gone.

"We need a sea trial," Leo insisted. "Just to be sure. Before my dad gets here tomorrow."

Isla agreed, mostly because she wanted to hear the engine under load, and partly because the thought of never seeing Leo again made her chest ache.

They took the yacht out past the breakwater. The sun was setting, painting the sky in violent shades of violet and orange. The water was glass.

Leo steered them into Smuggler’s Cove, a hidden inlet surrounded by high cliffs. He cut the engine.

"Silence," Leo whispered. "Perfect."

"The engine held up," Isla said, checking the gauges. "You're race-ready."

"I'm not talking about the engine."

Leo stripped off his shirt. "I'm going in."

He dove off the transom. A perfect, arched dive. He surfaced, shaking his hair. "Come on, Vance! Wash off the grease!"

Isla hesitated. Then, she thought, *One more day. Why not?*

She stripped down to her tank top and shorts and jumped in. The water was freezing, shocking the breath out of her.

She surfaced, gasping. Leo was right there, treading water.

"Cold?" he grinned.

"Refreshing," she lied, teeth chattering.

Leo swam closer. The water buoyed them up. His legs brushed hers underwater. The static wasn't there in the water, but the heat was.

"Thank you," Leo said, his voice serious. "For fixing the boat. For... listening."

"You're not terrible company, for a yachtie," Isla admitted.

Leo reached out. He took her wet hand underwater.

"I don't want to go," he whispered.

"The regatta is in two days. Then you go back to Connecticut."

"No," Leo shook his head. "I mean... I don't want to go away."

He pulled her closer. Isla didn't resist. The water lapped at their shoulders.

He kissed her.

It wasn't tentative. It was salty, cold, and desperate. It tasted like the ocean and longing. Isla wrapped her legs around his waist to stay afloat, deepening the kiss. For a moment, Ohio didn't exist. The Navy didn't exist. There was just Leo, the water, and the terrifying realization that Mrs. Gable might be right. She felt tethered.

Leo broke the kiss, resting his forehead against hers.

"I leave on Monday," he confessed.

Isla froze. "Monday? Back to school?"

"Boot camp," Leo said. "I enlisted. My dad arranged it. Naval Officer Candidate School. Four years active duty. I ship out right after the race."

The cold water suddenly felt much colder.

Isla unwrapped her legs and pushed back. "The Navy? You’re leaving for four years?"

"I didn't have a choice. It’s the family legacy."

"You always have a choice!" Isla shouted, splashing water. "You just let him drive the boat! You’re terrified of him!"

"It’s not that simple, Isla."

"It is!" Isla swam for the ladder. She climbed onto the deck, dripping and shivering. "This... us... this was a waste of time. You're leaving. I'm leaving. This is exactly why I don't do 'fated' nonsense. It’s just a countdown to misery."

"Isla, wait!" Leo climbed up after her.

"Take me back to the dock," Isla commanded, wrapping a towel around herself like armor. "The job is done. The boat works. Go be a hero somewhere else."

\---