“If you had tried to get any farther away, you would have had to go to the moon,” he responded.

I shrugged. “I’m fine.” My parents just served me up a hot reminder of what you cost me the first time, and I’m wondering if I’ve lost my mind. Like I was ever going to say that to him.

“You’re not fine. I’m not sure if it was the kiss or talking to your mother—”

“Shh!” I hissed. “That’s not something we’re talking about in…you know…public,” I said, pointing to the camera that had surprisingly been let in.

“Well, if you’d talk to me alone, I wouldn’t have to try in public.”

I finally looked over at where he sat next to me, his elbows casually braced on his knees. The small fire in the middle of the hut threw shadows across his face. He was hot as hell, like bottled sex, and I was the one with the cap.

“I’m not avoiding you or anything.”

“Going to class, minimal conversations revolving around only stunts and homework, and showing up for the excursion doesn’t count. Your mom spooked you,” he guessed.

“My dad made some memorable comments,” I answered. “They didn’t change anything, I just…needed a few minutes.”

“You had a few days,” he retorted. “I’m not in a rush. I’ll wait forever for you to figure out that I’m in this, but I’d rather you come to me when you’re spooked. I can’t stop that little mental fight you’re already in with me if I don’t know it’s going on—if you can’t let me in your head.”

He was completely right. It chafed me to admit it, but he really was. “Okay. You’re right.”

His mouth dropped open.

“What?” I asked.

“I’m just watching hell freeze over.”

“Shut up,” I said, leaning into him. “Talking to my parents was hard. They put me back together when you…” I trailed off. It wasn’t fair to keep shoving our past at him. If I was going to actually be with him, then I couldn’t drag him through that mud over and over.

“When I left you,” he finished. “Look, I fucked that up. It changed us both, and we have to be able to talk about it. Your parents rightfully hate me because they saw the aftermath. If I saw that, I’m sure I’d hate myself a hell of a lot more than I already do.”

I blinked at him, trying to organize my thoughts. “In a million years, I never imagined you saying that. You hate my dad.”

“I hate that he hated me, and then I went and gave him a damn good reason to.” He shrugged. “When we get back to L.A., I’m going to grovel, and I’m really not looking forward to it, but I’m honestly just hoping that I’ve at least won you over by that point—”

“What?” I asked a little too loudly. Dr. Messina shushed me from her seat across the hut.

“—because I can’t fight a war on two fronts. What do you mean, what?”

“When we get back to L.A.?” I asked. “You mean…you’ve thought about that?” About what would happen once you actually caught me.

“Well, yeah. We’re not going to be on this ship forever, right? Unless you have some lifelong plans that I’m not aware of?”

He’d thought about more than the chase, the pursuit. He’d looked ahead to when real life was going to hit us again. God, I hated the damn cameras, because I wanted to kiss him, to show him what I couldn’t find the words to say. Instead I leaned my forehead against his shoulder and breathed in, knowing he’d just knocked loose one of the last bricks in my defense against him.

He pressed his lips to my hair and rested there for a second.

It wasn’t enough for a moment like this, and yet it meant everything.

I don’t know how long we sat there, but the next thing I heard were the chants of the incoming Dani men. As they entered the hut, in ceremonial clothing and faces painted with bright colors, I lifted my head and reveled in the beauty of a different culture.

“Amazing to think they’ve never met before,” Landon whispered as the women entered, their faces painted with the same bright colors. I knew from class that they only married outside their own villages, but that both parties had to consent before the matchmaker would agree to their union.

I looped my arm through Landon’s and drew my knees tighter to my chest to give the men room to circulate. They chanted and sang what I knew were tribal songs about marriage, rotating between the women in their official ritual of courtship. Around and around they moved, the excitement palpable in the air as one by one, they sat next to the woman they intended to court.

“Imagine that,” I whispered. “No dating, just finding your person and saying yes to the rest of your life.”

Finally they were all seated, cross-legged, hands intertwined as they sang.

“That’s a huge decision for a split-second meeting,” he noted.

“Not as much for the men,” I added. “They can take more than one wife, but the women can’t.” I looked over and watched him as he studied the ceremony. “Would you want that? More than one wife?”

He looked down at me, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “I can barely keep up trying to chase you. So that’s a no.”

Softly laughing, I looked back to the men and women who sat next to the person they would marry. The hope in their eyes was enough to overflow into me.