“You guys are too slow,” he says, as if this is supposed to be a race, and he floats down, disappearing in front of Amber just as the cavern starts to narrow again and the current quickens.
We whip back into the dark, the glow of the worms fading behind us as the cave’s ceiling begins to press down on us oppressively.
I can hear Nick let out a “woo-hoo” from down the river as the current picks up speed and feels more like the rapids I had imagined.
Suddenly someone cries out in annoyance and I hear a scraping sound that travels back down the tunnel. We twist with the river and Amber bumps into part of the wall that juts out. She lets go of my legs and pushes off but the current spins her away and she’s loose up ahead, her headlight shining around the walls in a circle.
Amber lets out a cry that’s half scared, half having fun and she stays in my sight until Gemma hits the same spot on the wall as she passes. For a moment she seems stuck and is jerked out of my grasp.
“Agh!” she cries out, and I hear her splashing as she tries to push off back into the current. I spin around so I’m facing her and reach out with my hands, just managing to grip the edge of her foot. I pull her toward me, wrapping my arm around her tube, squeezing in between it and her thigh.
The light from my helmet catches her eyes and she looks afraid, her brows raised high, the whites of her eyes shining. I don’t know if she’s scared because the others are no longer in our sight, if she thought she was going to lose me, or because I’m even closer to her now.
She swallows, her throat bobbing, and I have the urge to lick her there and feel her pulse under my lips. We might be wearing the unsexiest things on earth, but she’s still radiating that same sexual energy as she did when we first met. Here in the dark caverns with me, she is more luminous than the glowworms we just passed under.
“I’ve got you,” I tell her, my voice automatically going lower as the swift river sweeps us forward.
She smiles, close-lipped. It’s not quite a smirk but it will do. “I think we lost everyone else,” she says. Her voice is hushed, delicate.
Even though it’s not easy to maintain eye contact without blinding each other, we do it. Her eyes are even darker in here, blacker than the water we’re floating on. “I’m sure we’ll eventually run into them,” I tell her reassuringly, even though catching up with everyone else is the last thing I want. “Unless the river branches out and we go down the wrong arm and over some underground waterfall.”
“You’re just full of the wrong things to say,” she says, smacking my arm.
I can only grin at her, which means I’m not looking at where we’re going as my foot catches the side of the narrow wall, sending me spinning off. I remain attached to her though, my arm still wrapped tight around her tube. We drift side by side until the passage narrows like a tie and I’m still holding on. I don’t want to have her legs wrapped around my shoulders; I want her as close as possible. The voices of the rest of the group occasionally drift toward us from the never-ending darkness and I know we’re in no real danger.
We’re alone. Very alone. I want to take advantage of this.
“So,” I say, keeping my voice low so it doesn’t bounce off the walls and down the tunnel. Even so, it echoes, mixing in with the sound of the gurgling water. I rub my lips together, my words waiting. I could make things a lot more awkward for us. “Why didn’t you . . .” I begin and then start over. “How long have you been seeing Nick?”
I’m not looking at her, so I don’t know if the question surprises her or not. When she answers, she’s cautious, almost ashamed. “We broke up before I went away. We weren’t together when you and I . . . well . . .”
“And you came back here and picked up where you left off.” I try not to sound bitter. It’s none of my business, really, and I have no right to be annoyed.
“Pretty much,” she says with a heavy sigh. “I’m sorry . . . I . . .”
“You have nothing to apologize for,” I tell her quickly, not wanting her to think I’m suffering, that I think I have claim to her. “We had a one-night stand. It happens. When I came here, I really didn’t think I’d see you. And I didn’t think you’d be sitting around waiting for me either.” I grow quiet while I think something over. “If we hadn’t run into Nick, would you have told me about him?”
Now I turn my head to see her answer. The water whisks me to one side so I can only glance at her for a second, but she looks pained. “You know what,” I say quickly. “Don’t worry about it. It doesn’t really matter, does it?”