Sean grimaces. “I know. I’m so sorry, Ross.”

He looks so guilty, and sad, his big polar-bear eyes crinkled with concern. He looks like he expects me to get angry, to release the kraken and go off. In actuality I’m more like a squid while I give Ross some serious side-eye.

“Do you really think it’d be that easy for you to manipulate me? Have we met?”

Sean laughs, but it’s nervous, unsure. “You’re not mad?”

“Am I mad that you perfectly showed the amazing moments I had up here? No. Am I mad that I know we had even better moments together than what was in your movie? No. Am I mad that I’m considering if I could keep making memories like that? No. What’s there to be mad at?”

Sean shrugs and chews his cheek. “I guess when you put it that way.”

I flash my wrist, the Journey Mark in clear view. “The Elders always told us this mark doesn’t mean we have to go back. It just means I can return to the ocean on the Blue Moon, if I want. I thought I’d made up my mind before, but now I’m not so sure. I want you to know I’m thinking about it. About what life could be like if I stay.”

“Really?” His mouth falls open, looking like a long-jawed mackerel.

“Duh.” I smirk, and Sean closes the distance between us, wrapping his arms around me with so much force his shirt comes untucked. Then it’s lips smashed together, tongues brushing, hands along my bare skin as he runs his fingers up and down my open back.

Finally I pull away and say, “Maybe we should head inside. See if you won?”

“Oh.” Sean’s chest rises and falls as he catches his breath. “There’s no winner.”

I wave around at all the glitter and decorations and spotlights. “You do all this just to watch a few movies?”

Sean shrugs. “That’s Hollywood.”

“Okay, wow, this has got to stop,” Sean says, placing his duffel bag in front of his crotch. I can’t help but bite my lip when he does it. It’s the weirdest instinctual move that always takes over when I’m thinking about Sean’s body, knowing exactly what’s going on below Sean’s hips now that I’ve seen him with absolutely nothing on. “I am way too worked up for a swim meet.”

I glance down at my phone and see we still have five minutes until the meet is supposed to start. “How about just two more minutes, then you have a solid three to not be so . . . solid.”