Meadow walks beside me, matching my stride as if nothing just happened between us.
I’m not sure which part is going to keep me up tonight—the way Meadow looked at me when I told her she deserved better than her nightmare of a manager, or the way her lips parted with a tiny gasp when I basically admitted I’d follow her anywhere.
My daily dose of Meadow.
What the fuck was that?
Since when doesanyoneturn me into someone who says shit like that?
The steady slap of our sandals against the stone is the only sound between us. The path down to the pool is lit with modern ground lights and tiki torches, casting an amber glow against our skin.
With every second of silence, the awkward tension pulls tighter between us. I should fill it with conversation, but I’m still stuck replaying dinner in my head.
Meadow’s mocha eyes glazing over as each word left my lips.
The way her throat worked when I told her I’d follow her anywhere.
And when she asked if I wanted all the things my ex did—marriage, kids, the staged happily-ever-after—my first thought was that I saw those things with someone like her.
Not even someone like her.
Justher.
What got me the most was that Meadow actually cared to ask aboutme.She wasn't digging for the messy details of the breakup. She didn't bring it up for gossip or drama.
She genuinely wanted to know how I was holding up.
“Are you… Sad?”
Fuck, just those three words made me feel more than I ever did with my ex.
For the first time in a long time, someone cared to ask about how I felt, what I wanted for my future. In less than five minutes, Meadow asked me the questions that my ex never cared to ask. Instead, my ex told me whatshewanted and expected me to follow like a dog on a leash.
My steps falter as we round the last curve in the path, the pool coming into view.
The massive pool spreads out like a glowing lagoon. The edges are rounded and tiered with natural stone, lit from below in shades of aqua that make the water look like liquid moonlight. Palm trees ring the area, their trunks wrapped in string lights.
A couple of cabanas sit off in the corner, draped in white fabric that blows in the night breeze. An older couple is lounging in one of the two hot tubs bordering the pool, a guy is nursing a drink at the swim-up bar, and a family with small children is splashing around in the shallow end.
Even though there are people here, the pool area is so big that it still feels quiet and peaceful.
“This place just keeps getting better,” Meadow says in awe, slowing as we reach the gate.
“No kidding,” I agree, my eyes widening as I push it open. I gesture for her to go first. “After you.”
“Thanks,” she smiles, adjusting the strap of the tote on her shoulder as she steps into the resort’s very own oasis.
We claim two lounge chairs near the opposite side, far enough away from the kids to give us a pocket of privacy. Meadow drops her towel and bag on one chair, then places her phone and room key on the little table between us.
She studies the water, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth.
The same lip I’ve fantasized about biting. Dragging between my teeth and pulling into my mouth just to hear the sound she’d make.
“Do you think it’s cold?” she asks, still staring at the rippling surface.
“Can’t be worse than what we live with in Chicago,” I reply, stepping closer until I feel the heat of her shoulder. “This should feel like a sauna compared to that.”
She makes a small, considering sound, her eyes narrowing at the pool.
