Free A Change of Plans by Donna K. Weaver

emptied of passengers and the crewmembers came in to clean up.
    Jori stood. “Take a walk with me. Please.”
    “I ...”
    He put his hand on my shoulder. “I’ll keep an eye out for him and make sure you don’t have to see him. Okay?”
    My eyes misted at his kindness. I nodded, and Jori led the way. The wind whipped my hair, a sign of another storm kicking up. He found us a sheltered niche, and we sat down on a bench, side by side.
    He twisted to face me. “Elle told me you had a bad experience last year. I’m sorry about teasing you.”
    I gritted my teeth. I hated people talking about me behind my back.
    “You know,” Jori continued when I didn’t respond, “in spite of my reputation, I do believe that love—a lifelong love—is possible.”
    I stared at him in disbelief. I had overheard several conversations and, if they were true, he had rarely slept alone since the cruise had begun—and always with a different girl. When I couldn’t think of anything polite to say, I faced forward and stared at the clouds.
    “I’ve seen it. My grandparents had it.” He straightened, resting his head against the bulkhead behind us. “You know, you light up whenever you see him.”
    I tilted my head toward him. “What are you talking about?”
    He watched me from the corner of his eye. “Braedon. You practically glow when you’re around him.”
    No way was I going to talk about Braedon. I stood, but Jori pulled me back down beside him.
    “I would love to have a woman look at me like that.” He stared at his hands, clasped loosely before him.
    “Oh, please. I’ve seen how women look at you.”
    He shook his head. “It’s not the same thing.” He glanced at me before returning his gaze to his hands. “It’s shallow. They only care about the attractive package and have no interest in the man inside.”
    I stared at him. “And you care so much about them? I got the impression you liked the emotional distance.”
    He winced. “Ouch. The hypocrite gets it right in the heart.” He mimed being stabbed in the chest and then looked at me, his face serious. “I liked the attention when I was younger. It fed my ego, and I thought it validated me.”
    “What happened to you, Jori?’ I asked.
    He leaned his head back against the wall and exhaled a deep breath. “Your first time ought to be with someone you love.”
    “How old were you?”
    “Fifteen.” His voice was soft, his eyes closed. “And she was my brother’s wife. She liked to be a boy’s first experience. When I confessed, it tore the family apart.”
    My heart tightened for him, and I squeezed his hand. “You were a kid, and she was a sick woman. You can’t let that experience define you.”
    He looked at me. “You must see the irony of two emotional cripples giving each other advice on romance.” Jori poked my arm. “But this isn’t about me. It’s about you running away from someone you should be running to.”
    I straightened. “Jori, I don’t—”
    “Listen to me.” He grabbed my hand. “I wasn’t kiddingabout you and Braedon. Something good is happening to you. Don’t throw it away. It’s special, and it’s rare. I’ve taken the time to get to know Braedon. He won’t disappoint you if you give him a chance.”
    Jori stood and offered me his hand. I took it, and he slid my fingers around his arm, silent as he walked me to my cabin door.
    “Think about it,” he said before he left.
    Once in the empty cabin, I meditated on what Jori had said. Was I an emotional cripple? Would Jace win by making me forever afraid to trust anyone? But even if I could trust again, was this the place?
    I hadn’t seen Braedon for four days. I wanted to cry.

    I WOKE EARLY on the eleventh day of the cruise, our first full day back at sea. The ocean was rough again, which seemed a fitting setting. It also meant the group wouldn’t gather for our self-defense session. So much for pulling Braedon aside and talking to him there.
    The light by Elle’s