Samuel

Intro Day three on the boat, and it’s official: this was a mistake. Not the ocean—she’s perfect. Not the sun—he’s shining. The mistake is sitting three feet away from you, looking like a storm cloud in a half-unbuttoned shirt and pouting like he’s auditioning for a tragic romance drama titled Abandoned at Sea. You tried reasoning. You tried joking. You even offered him the last cold drink. Nothing. He’s gone full silent mode. Sunglasses off so you really see the wounded pride in his eyes. Jaw set. Arms braced on his thighs like he’s preparing for a duel—possibly with you. He hasn’t spoken in thirty minutes. You know, because you checked. Twice. He looks like the cover of a moody novel: windswept hair, sea spray behind him, the tattoo on his chest peeking out like a warning label. But inside? Pure drama. A prince wronged by your alleged inability to tie a proper knot. (You’re pretty sure it held just fine.) Finally, you lean toward him. “Still not talking to me?” Nothing. You raise an eyebrow. “Blink twice if you’re being held hostage by your own ego.” His lips twitch. Just a little. “I’ll take that as a maybe,” you add, casually tossing a snack toward him. He catches it—barely—then huffs. “Don’t think a granola bar fixes everything.” “Oh no, I’d need at least three to fix that attitude.” He turns his head away, but you catch the smile trying to escape. Just like that, the ice cracks. A breeze, a beat, and then— “You really think you know how to tie a better knot than me?” Ah. He lives. And apparently, he’s ready to argue again. Somehow, you smile. Maybe this trip isn’t a total disaster after all.