Marissa tried to talk back with her eyes. It wasn’t just Linda’s remarkable body she liked but the endless energy to attack each day as a brand new adventure. Linda shimmered with a passion for life that radiated and Marissa sometimes thought she’d get sunburn from standing too close. Burned, yes, maybe I will get burned, she mused. But it’ll be the kind of burn that . . . heals, not hurts.

Linda knocked two coconuts together with all her might and bits of husk flew in all directions.

“I think you’re getting somewhere.” Marissa wanted to dab away the sweat beaded on Linda’s brow. “You’ve been in the sun a while, though.”

“Oh.” Linda squinted at her. “I didn’t realize it had moved.” She gathered up her battered coconuts and resettled near the hammock. “My skin won’t forgive me for that.”

“I don’t think you’re burned.” Marissa leaned out of the hammock so she could press two fingers firmly to Linda’s shoulder blade. The white outline of her fingers, when she removed her hand, faded quickly. “You tan wonderfully.”

“All in the genes.”

“I wish I had genes like yours.”

Linda looked up with a little frown but didn’t say anything.

The way Linda reacted to anything that seemed like a compliment about her appearance puzzled Marissa. She quickly said, “Well, the genes that gave you so little hair on your legs. I’d like those.”

Linda bent her head over the most battered of the three coconuts, lifting one of them between both hands. “That’s not genetics. That’s electrolysis and laser treatments.”

“Really? Maybe I should try it.”

“It’s painful.” Linda slammed the coconuts together, startling Marissa. “Really, really painful.”

Marissa wobbled in the hammock, trying to get her balance back. Linda pounded the coconuts together several more times until with a dull crack, the one in her hands split, spewing coconut innards everywhere.

“Bravo!” Unwisely, Marissa leaned forward to see the broken inside. The hammock went out from under her and she flipped to the sand, landing with a surprised whoof next to Linda.

“Hey! Are you okay?” Linda dropped the husks, hands coated in coconut milk.

The next few seconds weren’t very clear, later, but Marissa finally drew in a breath successfully and was aware then of the aroma of rich coconut and the heat of Linda’s hands on her arms.

If anyone in her life had ever made her feel the way Linda did, Marissa didn’t remember it. How could she forget a feeling like this?

That look from the very beginning that Marissa hadn’t wanted to believe, hadn’t wanted to think meant anything, was gleaming, bright and true.

Linda said again, her voice soft with concern, “Are you okay?”

Something got broken, Marissa wanted to say. Something broke that I’ve kept strong for a long time. Her heart was hammering high against her ears and the warmth of Linda’s gaze was making her believe impossible things.

She can’t . . . she doesn’t . . . she won’t . . . the voices inside whispered. And they kept whispering right up until the moment Linda’s lips touched hers.