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Never in a million years would Skylar have imagined she would be in the middle of Lake Monroe on her boat with Elena Cruz sitting elegantly on the stern. She’d befriended Atlas, whose head was on her lap as Elena petted his head. Skylar tried to keep her eyes on the water, but the scene in front of her was just too damn perfect.
She had dreamed of one day settling down with someone and starting a family. They’d spend their free time on the lake or by the ocean. A couple of kids would be running around having fun. At least one—probably more—dogs would always be with them. It was a great image, one Skylar still hoped would happen.
Once upon a time, Skylar assumed her future was with Elena. They used to talk about their days once the band was over and when they’d actually settle down. Skylar still remembered the type of house Elena wanted and what she’d wanted to name their kids. It seemed like useless information now. Surely her brain could let that go.
But alas. It remained along with song lyrics from every nineties boy band.
“Are we going to drive all day, or are we going to stop and eat?”
Elena looked at Skylar through designer sunglasses. They looked out of place with her otherwise casual attire. Skylar had to admit that she liked the casual Elena better. She seemed more relaxed, happier even.
“We will when we get there.”
“Get there?” Her brow furrowed in confusion. “I thought we were eating on the boat?”
“Nope,” Skylar smirked. “I know the perfect spot for a picnic.”
She expected Elena to protest, but instead, she nodded her head and went back to petting Atlas.
Arriving at a rickety dock on a small island in the middle of the lake, Skylar grabbed the Crock-Pot and whistled for Atlas to follow her. The two had picnicked here hundreds of times before, so he knew his way around. Skylar looked back at Elena, who was slowly walking toward the back of the boat. She had her arms out to her side to keep her balance.
“Nice sea legs.”
“Yeah, thanks,” she grumbled. “I wouldn’t have worn these shoes if I’d known we were going on an adventure.”
“What is life if not an adventure?” Skylar held her hand out to Elena to help her off the boat.
“I prefer a planned adventure.”
“Where’s the fun in that?”
“There’s excitement in planning.”
“Not as much as there is in spontaneously doing.”
Walking a few feet up a small embankment, Skylar sat the Crock-Pot down on the ground before heading back to the boat for the rest of the supplies. She’d packed a cooler of drinks, a blanket, and dishware for them to eat with. Elena waited for her by the Crock-Pot with her hands on her hips.
“You could offer to help, you know.”
“Why would I?” She laughed. “You drug me out here. You can set up the picnic.”
Skylar chuckled as she set the blanket on the ground and arranged everything. Plopping down on the blanket, she looked up at Elena. “You joining me?”
“You put a lot of thought into this.”
“So?”
“Are you trying to apologize for springing the surprise jam session last night on me?” Elena sat on the blanket beside Skylar and crossed her legs. They were close enough that Skylar could smell her perfume.
“Oh, come on. You know you enjoyed it.”
“Well,” Elena shrugged, a slight smile forming on her face, “maybe a little.”
Skylar playfully bumped her shoulder against Elena’s. “I know, right? We still got it.”
“We do. It should make for a great tour.”
“We always put on one hell of a show.”
