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Summary
Ending up in bed with Jack is inevitable. From the first time she saw him she knew that was where they were heading. Just like she knows when a twist of a man’s mouth means trouble, or how she can taste a coming storm between her teeth. From the moment they met, she and Jack were on the same trajectory, one that would find them, eventually, in a tangle of limbs that meant nothing and everything all at once.
It’s important for Anne that inevitability is different from fate. Fate is a crock of shit. Only children believe in fate, children, those inexperienced enough to still believe in God, and Jack, occasionally, when he runs his fingers across her skin and says stupid things like I was always meant to find you, voice low over the hush of the waves.