Azure (Drowning In You) (3 page)

Oh man, she was drunk, most definitely.

Shaking her head, she sat on the concrete step of the bar and set her bottle down, then put her face in her hands.

***

The pebble she’d found made a good pendant. Her chain passed neatly through its opening and now the smooth rock rested in the hollow of Olivia’s throat, cool and slightly heavier than the ring had been. Symbolic somehow, though of what she couldn’t yet tell.
Change
, she supposed.
Transformation
. She’d left home for
Germany
and now
Crete
for this precise reason, and then had managed to fall back into the black hole.

Well, her name wasn’t
Alice
, and she had no need of white bunnies to show her the way out. She’d find her way.

Sunlight poured through the hotel room, slanting through the French windows that opened onto a tiny balcony. Nice, but her head still throbbed from the beer and loud music at the bar the previous night, and she’d lost one of her contact lenses on the way back to the hotel. Had she remembered to pack her glasses?
Nope. Of course not
. She’d packed sunscreen, books, nail polish and shampoo, but she always forgot the important stuff.

Well, they were not far from
Chania
town. She’d get a taxi to the nearest optician and buy a lens.
Easy
.

Problem was, she couldn’t wear her one lens; the double vision made her dizzy. Good thing that, even when blind as a bat, she knew how to navigate space. She always remembered where she left her clothes, her shoes, where the door was, the elevator, everything. Which was a good thing as she took a shower, dressed, ran a brush through her hair and hurried downstairs for breakfast.

Entering the long dining room, she glanced around warily at the vague outlines and blurry shapes. Someone waved at her from a table and assuming it was Kirsten or Markus she headed that way.

She lucked out. It was them, dressed in comfortable sports shorts and tees.
Wait, not beach gear?

“Were we supposed to be going somewhere today?” She sat across from Kirsten and poured herself a cup of lukewarm coffee.

“We were going to check out the countryside. You forgot, didn’t you?”

“Oh crap.” She set her cup down and rubbed her thumb between her brows. “I lost a contact lens. I have to go into town to buy another pair.”

Kirsten’s mouth turned down — at least, Olivia thought it did. From the distance across the table she couldn’t be sure. “We can go with you.”

“No, it’s okay.” Olivia smiled at her friend. “You go. I’ll find you in the afternoon. I’ll be fine, really.” She’d have loved to have Kirsten hold her hand, in fact, because she hated blundering around blindly, but there was no way she’d ruin their day for this. It was her own fault, for coming to
Crete
without her glasses.

“We’re going with you,” Kirsten said, poking Markus in the ribs. “Right? You’re feeling down, your heart is broken, and you need your friends with you.”

Oh dear
. Olivia glanced around, sure everyone was listening in to their conversation, but of course she couldn’t make out any faces.
Just as well
.

“I had a friend on the long path down the shore,” Markus said.

Olivia sent Kirsten a questioning look.

“Don’t mind him. He’s into quoting some obscure poet they studied in contemporary literature class.”

“Not true. I read up on Myra Crow because she died right here, in
Crete
,” Markus said. “And she was a dark soul representing her generation. Better than the Shakespearean stuff you keep quoting.”

Olivia snorted. “Listen, guys...” Kirsten had held her and consoled her after the break-up, had bought her candies and made her tea. But she also made her feel like an invalid sometimes. “I’m okay, really. Look, my heart’s not broken. A little bruised maybe. I’ll survive a morning without you.”

“Are you sure?” Markus asked, leaning forward, muscular arms resting on the table, blond hair framing his broad face.

“Yeah.” She widened her smile. “No problem.”

Besides, she needed to get on her own two feet, at long last.

“Eat,” Kirsten said, giving Olivia’s empty plate a pointed look. “You’re not leaving the table until you’ve had some breakfast.”

Yes, Mom
. But Olivia couldn’t be angry. Kirsten had put her in a regime of eating and exercise that had saved her more than once from drowning in herself.
It doesn’t matter if you’re not hungry
, Kirsten always said.
Three meals a day. You must
.

So she finished her coffee, grabbed a croissant from the breakfast buffet because she recognized the shape and bit into it, making faces at Kirsten.

Her friends left right after breakfast, their tall, toned bodies making her feel small as always, although she was a good five foot six.
Damn Vikings.

Afterward she took the elevator back to her room, finding it by memory, glad when her key fit. You never knew. Memory was a tricky thing.

She brushed her teeth, tamed her mane of blond hair and tied it up in a ponytail, grabbed her purse and paused.

Being so near-sighted made her insecure. The contacts had helped a lot with her confidence, but after spending years in high school being teased for her large, thick glasses, and after a couple of blunders when she’d been without them — at the pool or when it rained and they got wet — she sometimes felt she was back to square one.

She took a deep breath, wishing she hadn’t refused her friends’ help. Then again, she couldn’t always rely on them.

You can do this.

She glanced at the balcony door, at the bright sunshine outside. The beach was right below. She should be able to see the beach bar from there, but since she was currently blind, it would have to wait until she bought new lenses.

Lifting her chin, she made her way out, locked the door with the old-fashioned key and went down to the reception. She placed her key on the desk, squinting around. Where was the receptionist? Voices sounded behind her and she glanced over her shoulder. Blurry figures entered through the revolving doors, coming toward her. Others lounged in the small sitting area.

She tapped her fingers on the desk, her insecurity returning. Maybe she was supposed to simply leave the key and go?

“Hello, morning.” A man entered through a door, scratching at his chin. “Sorry, I am...” He stopped, snorted. “Well, hello.”

She still couldn’t see his expression, but she recognized that tone of voice. Flirting. Her cheeks heated as he came closer, leaning over the desk, and she saw him better. Dark shoulder-length hair and hazel eyes, three-day-old stubble darkening his jaw. He looked like the mysterious guy on the beach, only older and bulkier. Maybe all Cretans looked like that.

An island of hunks.

“I’m here, I fix something.” He dragged the vowels, his voice musical. “No more milk for breakfast. Customers complain, I need to do something, fast. I call Kai, milk is on the way.”

Kai. Rhymed with sky
.

“I’m not here to complain about the milk,” she stammered. “I just wanted to leave my key. Or should I take it with me?”

“No, leave it, leave it.” He smirked. “Safe with me.” He waved at what had to be the new arrivals. “Can I help you?”

She turned to go and promptly crashed into someone. Her purse fell and she back-pedaled into the desk as the sound of something heavy hitting the floor reverberated through the lobby.

“Oh fuck,” the blurry figure facing her muttered in a crisp American accent and bent down to pick up whatever it was he’d dropped. Even without lenses she could see how wide his shoulders were and the dark hue of his hair.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered and dropped to her knees to help him. She picked up a carton and tried to read what it was. Of course she couldn’t. It was all in Greek.

“And the milk arrive,” the receptionist grated, though there was laughter in his voice.

So this was Kai that rhymed with sky.

“Here, give me that,” Kai said, his deep voice familiar.

Olivia glanced up into dark eyes that held a streak of blue and froze. “You.” The guy she’d met at the beach the previous evening. She tightened her hold on the carton and blurted, “I didn’t recognize you dressed.”

The receptionist whistled and chuckled.

Kai stilled. Dark eyes widened, then crinkled at the corners, a side of his mouth lifting. “You must be kidding me...”

Oh damn, she’d caught the German bug. Her thoughts flowed out of her mouth without any filter. “Um, I didn’t mean it that way... Crap.”

He grabbed the carton from her hand and stood, instantly going blurry once more. She remained on her knees, caught between deciding on the best way to make her escape and staying until she pieced it all together.

Kai worked here. Lived here, probably, which would explain his presence at the beach. Did that mean she would be seeing him every day?

And why did the prospect send a thrill through her?

“Are you all right?” His low voice brought her out of her brief trance.

She’d zoned out on the lobby floor.
Hopeless
. “Fine, I just, um...”

“Here.” He reached down for her. “Let me help you up.”

She took his hand, firm and strong, and let him pull her to her feet. “I’m really sorry I bumped into you. I lost my contact lens and I’m
kinda
blind right now, so... I need to get a taxi into town.” She realized he still held her hand and she looked up to find an odd expression on his face.

“No need for a taxi. I’m going into town.” He looked down at their interlinked hands and frowned. “I’m going there to pick up some provisions for the hotel. I can drop you off at an optician’s.”

The receptionist whistled again. Kai turned and gave him the finger — maybe, she couldn’t be sure — then nodded at the exit. “If that’s okay with you.”

“Sure, yes, thank you,” she said, relieved and curious and wondering about the streak of blue she’d seen in his dark eyes.

He smiled, a faint pulling of his lips, and it was only when he withdrew his hand she realized she wanted it back.

By that sin fell the angels.

Shakespeare

Their wings were heavy and their heart light.

Myra
Crow

Kai led the way to the parking lot behind the hotel. A pickup truck sat under a purple bougainvillea in full blossom. The sun already stung her skin and struck reflections off the sea down below.

Inside the truck it was warm but Kai opened the doors and it cooled down enough for her to climb inside. The cloth covers of the seats were dusty; the dashboard looked grimy, although she didn’t want to press her nose to it to examine it.

Then Kai slid inside, slamming the car door closed, and his scent hit her. He smelled like the sea, salty and woodsy and fresh with an undertone of musk. She inhaled deeply, hoping he wouldn’t notice. One of the perks of being half-blind, if you could call it a perk, was she had a better feel for the other senses. Sounds, smells, textures became more intense when you had to rely on them to get around, and she wanted to sink in his scent and dream of waves and sparkling fish.

“Buckle up,” he said, a dark brow arching.

She realized she’d been leaning toward him and jerked back.
Shit
. She pulled on the safety belt and nodded. “Aye
aye
, Captain.”

He puffed out a breath, and she wasn’t sure if it was annoyance or amusement. She hoped it was the latter. He was being nice and she didn’t want to put him off.

“So do you know where I can find an optician’s store?” She glanced out the window as he pulled out of the parking lot, seeing streaks of color and indistinct shapes. She turned back toward him. At least she could make out most of his features.

“
Optonet
. It’s near the town center.” He switched on the radio. A song blared out —
Greek, of course
— with lots of percussion and an oriental rhythm. “I’ll drop you off there, then continue to the other side of town to pick up provisions. Need me to give you a lift on my way back?”

Tempting as it sounded, he’d done a lot already. She gazed at his dark lashes, so long they swept his cheekbones when he blinked. “Nah, I’ll be fine. I’ll grab a taxi back, thank you.”

“Why are you staring at me?” It came out a bit antsy, as if he’d caught her stalking him or something.

“Oh. You’re the only thing — well, person — I can actually see right now.” She hoped her cheeks weren’t about to flush again. “I have no idea where we are and can’t see a damn thing outside.”
And you’re gorgeous
.

Yeah, better not say that
.

A corner of his mouth twitched up like before. She liked his half-smiles, she decided. “So you’re looking at me because I’m the only thing you can see, huh?”

She shrugged. “It’s not such a bad view.”

Damn
. She hadn’t been supposed to say that, and she normally didn’t blurt out her thoughts. She was a quiet person and Kirsten always teased her about it. What was it about this guy that made her spew out such things?

Then again, maybe it was because he didn’t speak much and she wanted to fill the silence between them.

Which again begged the question why...

“We haven’t been introduced properly.” She put out her hand. “I’m Olivia Spencer. You can call me
Liv
.”

He caught her hand in his, his grip strong. Muscles flexed in his tanned arm. “Kai.”

She smiled. “Nice to meet you, Kai. Are you from around here?” Oh god, there she went again. She needed a silencer for her mouth.

He started to nod, then shook his head.

Okay, confusing
. Coupled with his comment of being sometimes here and sometimes not... “You don’t have a Greek accent. You grew up in the States, didn’t you?”

He turned off the radio. “Yeah,” he said. “
New Jersey
. You?”

“
Vermont
. But I’m moving to
New York
, hopefully. I asked for a transfer to a college there.” She pursed her lips. She wanted to ask him if he studied, if his parents were from
Crete
, but she already sounded like a police interrogator. Like the Inquisition, rather.
Great
.

“Have you picked a major?” he asked and she smiled, relieved he was taking the lead.

“English literature.”

His brows drew together, his full lips pressed in a line. Had she said something wrong? “You don’t like literature?”

“I don’t read.”

Oh
. “At all?” Didn’t even seem possible in her world, but he was worlds away. And why did he seem upset?

She was slowly realizing she was worlds away from home, too.

He said nothing as they drove on, old two-storey houses crowding the sides of the streets as they entered the center of
Chania
town. Honks and shouts filled the awkward silence between them but did nothing to dispel the tension.

They stopped in front of a line of shops. Kai pulled on the handbrake, not looking at her, his jaw clenched. He nodded at the storefronts. “This is it. Second shop from the left.”

“Thank you.” She slung her purse over her shoulder, debated saying something more, asking him what had pissed him off. Trying to figure him out. But she shouldn’t bother. She didn’t need this. “See you around.”

He drove off as soon as her door slammed shut.

***

The optician, a nice middle-aged lady with short, iron-grey hair, asked for her vision measurements and puttered through her storeroom, returning triumphant with a box of monthly contact lenses. When Olivia asked to put them on, she was waved into a small bathroom with a dusty mirror. She popped them in, wiped the extra moisture, and she was a seeing person again.
Like magic
.

The world was beautiful.

She bought an extra pair just in case she lost another lens, her lesson learned, then she tucked the box in her purse and set out to visit the old town of
Chania
. At a stall, she had a
kaltsouni
, a sweet pastry filled with fresh cheese, sugar and cinnamon, and tried the Greeks’ favorite summer beverage:
frappe
, which basically meant instant coffee whisked with ice and water. Even with milk and sugar it still tasted bitter and horrible, but everyone around her guzzled the stuff down like water.

Amazing
. It was a wonder their taste buds didn’t fizzle out and die instantly.

Then again, maybe they did, which explained how these people could keep drinking the vile liquid.

After discreetly tossing her still full plastic
frappe
cup into a trash container, she checked her map and strolled down busy
Halidon
Street
with its touristy shops and taverns, and its loud hawkers and hagglers. At the end of the street was a small square with a fountain, and she crossed it to reach the Venetian harbor with its lighthouse, the old ottoman baths, and the restaurants along the sea front.

The blue of the sea filled her eyes. Darker than the light-filled sky, bluer than turquoise. Azure, perhaps. The color burrowed into her mind, a ripple of calm and wonder, quieting her fears and making her want to smile.

Choosing a cafe that faced the lighthouse, she ordered an Italian espresso and leaned back to take in the view. The natural bay was surrounded by old ottoman buildings, and behind them, according to her map, were the Venetian walls protecting the town from the mainland.
‘
Canea
’
had been the town’s name back then, and it had been impregnable for a very long time.

Like Kai
. He was like a fort, the walls high around him, not letting anyone close.

Okay, where had the thought come from? Olivia snorted softly, sipping her coffee.
You barely know him
. And she’d only seen him with the sun setting and then while she’d been half-blind. Maybe he was nothing much to look at in broad daylight, with her vision restored.

She gulped down the rest of her coffee, scalding her throat. Who was she kidding? He was hotter than hot sauce.

With a sigh, she turned on her mobile phone to text her parents she’d arrived fine to
Crete
, and found a message from Justin.

Oh shit
. There went her nice, relaxed mood. Her hands began to shake as she turned the phone off. Turned it on again. Stared at his name, still in her list of contacts, complete with his photo blowing her a kiss.