Free Going Down (Divemasters #1) by Jayne Rylon

her midnight blue camo duffle. It was hard to believe that as part of the crew she had a room, however cramped, to herself. Hell, it even had a porthole to let in natural light and give her a glimpse of paradise outside the ship.
    After a dozen years of living in barracks, she would so take that.
    If she stayed.
    Waverly headed toward the stairs that led to the upper deck, where their staff meeting would be held. Her heart pounded in her chest. It felt odd to have her hair down, brushing her butt. Even braided, it seemed wild compared to twisting, wrapping, and pinning her mane into a bun that conformed to the Navy’s strict grooming standards.
    Something had urged her to shed a couple of those uptight habits. Maybe so her old acquaintance would have some hint of the kid she’d been to jog his memory.
    Would Archer Quartermane—her first and everlasting crush—even remember her?
    She thought so, but feared that he might not.
    What if, like so many other people who’d faded from her life, he’d meant much more to her than she had to him? Sure, they’d gone to different schools. Hers a private, all-girls preparatory academy. His even more exclusive. But he’d hung out with her sporadically for years at pretty much every event they’d found each other at, when both of their fathers had been required to attend.
    It had gotten to the point where the first thing she’d do when she could break away from shaking hands and looking pretty by her father’s side was beg the doorman to check the guest list for Archer’s father. Even the most boring events had been tolerable when he had been there to help her pass the time.
    As they got older, their haphazard run-ins had turned into flirt fests.
    One evening in particular had occupied a disproportionate amount of her teenaged daydreams. They’d been out exploring a hedge maze on the grounds of some socialite’s mansion, laughing and chasing each other around the fountain at the center, when she’d tripped on her gown and crashed into him.
    To keep her from bashing her brains out on a cherub statue, which pissed into the basin—how the fuck was that supposed to be classy anyway?—he’d caught her against his chest. It had started making the transition from scrawny to the broad torso of a grown man. His sheer size, the flex of his muscles, and his general…hardness…had amazed her. He must have liked what he’d felt, too. Because, as he steadied her on her feet, he leaned in.
    Waverly had held her breath, afraid to hope that she might share her first kiss ever with Archer.
    He’d made her unspoken wish come true.
    The rest of that summer they’d skipped the chasing and gone straight to making out whenever they could find a shadowy corner, an abandoned boathouse, or an intricate garden.
    Even now, the memory of his lips on hers and the remembered comfort his protective arms around her had the power to make her swoon. The warrior in her hated to admit it since the woman she’d grown into was nothing like the naïve, entitled brat she’d been before he’d taken off without warning—right around the time her fairy tale upbringing had officially gone to shit.
    Waverly figured she’d had to crash and burn to truly appreciate life.
    After all, starting over from scratch had allowed her to rebuild herself from the ground up, into the fierce, independent, competent person she was proud to be today. According to Banks, that would be another thing she had in common with her new boss. Something sure to earn his respect.
    It had been a long time since she’d felt this vulnerable or sought someone’s approval.
    This was either the best or worst idea she’d ever had.
    They were about to find out which it was.
    Lost in thought, she jogged up the staff staircase that dumped out into the main hallway two floors above. She hadn’t gone more than ten paces when the door immediately in front of her opened. Out stepped Archer along with a lovely—if rumpled—woman who’d clearly