The laws and codes are what make a hunter someone to be trusted. We must protect and uphold the balance. Anything less can cause ripples that are too vast to predict. — A Short Guide for Hunter Ethics

***

I brush my teeth, staring at myself in the mirror. Yesterday continues to roll through my mind. The revelations. The parts that don't make sense. The time it took me to fall asleep because I stared at the ceiling, wondering if Zale also had difficulty falling asleep.

I spit toothpaste into the sink, "idiot." I mutter to myself before getting back to brushing.

Zale is using my services because he has a stalker. Our holding hands isn't romantic. They don't fit perfectly together because there is no logical way to measure perfection in hand-holding.

Is it based on size or angle? What about knuckles? Are we considering if his knuckles don't squeeze mine too much? Is it the amount of sweat? The latter shouldn't be a contender because it is also based on humidity in the air or nerves.

Will we be holding hands again today? Have we decided what type of fake couple were going to be?

Should I find out what he's going to wear so that we can coordinate our bathing suits? Or do we not want to coordinate because we don't plan to be influencers?

I spit the rest of my toothpaste and sigh. Would it be weird if I text Zale these questions?

"Stop overthinking this," I mutter and walk towards my suitcase. "Just wear a clean bathing suit, grab a cover-up, and get coffee. That's all you need to do."

I grab a blue bathing suit, don't think about if it matches his eyes, and put it on. Then, find a white eyelet cover-up dress to go over it. Satisfied, I double-check that my bag is ready before slipping on my sandals and opening the door.

Zale is standing on the other side with an iced Ube latte in one hand and another latte in the other, ready to knock. I raise my eyebrow in the doorway as he brings his hand down.

"Morning," he smirks, holding the Ube latte out to me. "I'm glad you stopped."

"Me too," I mutter, taking the drink. "I guess I could have made you pay for another one."

"I wouldn't doubt that you would," Zale mutters, taking my hand.

I glance at his white button-down and forest green swim trunks with pink flowers. We aren't coordinating today. Thank the goddesses stuck behind the veil. But, also, damn, he looks good today.

"What?" Zale asks.

I shake my head, feeling my cheeks heat up. "Nothing, I'm just wondering what's on the agenda for today."

Zale studies my face for a moment, and a flicker of realization crosses his eyes. Then he just smirks and squeezes my hand.

"I figure the easiest place to start is with breakfast."

I nod as we wander towards one of the restaurants, willing my mind and body to stop betraying me. This is not the time to look like an idiot.

Unfortunately, my body didn't listen to me. I blushed, blushed, when he complimented me during breakfast. I willingly held his hand through most of breakfast. I even agreed, like an idiot, that a morning stroll along the beach would be wonderful. Well, I said a more cringeworthy word, amazing. I said, "That sounds amazing." With emphasis. Like an idiot.

So, now, my fingers curl with his as we walk along the beach, and he stops occasionally to examine the shells. Because this is what my average, relaxing vacation has become. Walking along the shore, holding hands with a fae-merman and not feeling like his rage-filled ex-mermaid, sort-of fiancé, will try to kill me today. Because he's holding my hand. That means I'm safe. Dear goodness, I deserve to die.

"Look," Zale says, pointing at a curved white shell in the sand. "This one is special."

I tilt my head and squat beside him, "how can you tell?"

His finger runs along one of the grooves and bumps. "I just can feel the life that it housed and—" he releases a bitter smile from his lips. "It reminds me of one of my homes."

"Is it hard to live between two worlds?"

Zale stands, pulling me up with him. "Not as hard as you would think. It just means that my heart understands both places. I don't prefer one more than the other. They both," he pauses to gather his words. "They both speak to my soul. I've been so long on land that these seashells are enough to make me homesick. It's just that I can't really go home right now."

I scrunch my nose. "Breakups suck."

He lets out a strained laugh, "that's putting this one mildly."

I consider him for a moment as his jaw tightens while he stares out at the ocean. The idiotic part of me didn't want him to venture into those sad thoughts. I wanted him to stay here, talking wistfully about seashells and then charmingly egotistical.

"So," I say, pulling on his hand to make him look at me. "What is on the agenda for today? Now that you have completely monopolized me with our contract, I am at your disposal."

Zale shrugs with a half-smile. "Whatever you want to do. I've enjoyed following your lead. And, just doing this is nice."

My dumb cheeks heat as I can feel the blush tinging my cheeks. "Well, this is nice. But, I want to make sure I'm helping you—"

"You are helping me. Just being here with me helps more than you know."

The words strike my heart, making it freeze in shock before warming. Damn. Hot damn. That must be a line from one of Zale's movies.

"Don't look so surprised," Zale laughs. "It's nice to have someone I can relax with. I like knowing that you're here because you choose to be. It isn't my aura attracting you. It's just us, being us."

Just us, being us. Zale said us. By the goddesses, he used the word us. Maybe it isn't a romantic us. Maybe it is a friends us. Because we are in a contract that binds us. Zale has been angling for an us since he sat beside me at the pool. Maybe before that. When we made eye contact. Not that it matters. This us isn't logical. But everything in life doesn't have to be rational. And, if I overthink about this one damn word, it could ruin—wait, there is nothing to ruin. This is a vacation fling, I mean, a thing based on a contract. There is nothing flinging between us. Clothes remain on. The only body parts touching are hands. Hands stay on hands. Just to clarify how body parts and hands go together for my mind before it starts to think about—crap. Those thoughts are definitely part of the contract.

I think I need to say something because he's been staring at me with that knowing smile for too long now.

"Yay for shields?" I shrug, raising one palm to the sky. Our entwined fingers pull upward as well.

Zale shakes his head with a light laugh and pulls me along so we can walk further down the beach. "Yep, that's one of the many things I say 'yay' about from this trip."

I decide it's best to let the silence hang between us as we continue our walk. My eyes are drawn to the horizon, with only the whales keeping us company as they jump from the water. Today has become my favorite morning thus far on Maui.

Word Count: 1,241

Total Word Count: 16,320