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Cass groaned. “Don’t laugh, okay?” he said. Then he laughed. “Okay, well, you can laugh but . . .” He sighed. “It was honestly exactly what I needed at the time, because like I said, Joe is a super sweet guy, and I think I kinda needed that after dating those jerks in college. But it was never, uh, exciting. In any sense of the word.”

Cass’s face heated up as soon as the words were out, and he immediately regretted his answer, even though it was one hundred percent the truth. But then he heard Ash snickering through the phone speaker.

“Oh, I see,” Ash said, not even trying to rein in his amusement.

And to Cass, that was everything.

He closed his eyes and pursed his lips. “So, that’s my whole story,” he admitted. “Nothing very interesting or exciting. Until now. Until you.”

Ash seemed to falter just a little then, his voice softer as he asked, “Which one am I? Interesting or exciting?”

Cass didn’t even hesitate before he answered. “Both.”

Turned out that staying up chatting on the phone until two in the morning and then having to wake up at six was not something Cass wanted to get used to. He had to drag himself out of bed and chug two cups of coffee to feel even close to normal. When his dad came out to the kitchen around six forty-five, Cass had just set breakfast on the table next to his dad’s morning newspaper.

His dad paused in the entryway to the kitchen, eyes narrowed but a soft expression on his face. “Denver?”

“Ham, cheddar, and green peppers,” Cass confirmed. “No onion.”

His dad tipped his head. “Just how I like it.” He didn’t have to say thank you; Cass could hear the gratitude in his voice. The older man moved stiffly across the kitchen to the table and lowered himself into his chair. “So, what time did you get in?” he asked, reaching out for his coffee mug.

Cass slipped into a seat across from his dad. “The plane landed just after ten.”

“Mm.” His dad started eating, and they fell into a comfortable silence.

Cass hadn’t made any breakfast for himself; he’d eat later, with his mom. But he’d already poured himself a third cup of coffee, and he took a sip as he pulled his phone out to follow up with anything he’d missed overnight or earlier this morning.

A smile immediately brightened his face as a text message from about half an hour ago popped up on his screen.

Ash (6:22 a.m.): Bri waking up before the sun was not something I planned for last night

Ash (6:23 a.m.): Looks like we’re going hiking again. Will you get bored if I send you photos and a running commentary of Bri-isms?

Ash (6:44 a.m.): I gave her a choice of three hiking trails. She chose one we’ve never been to, but it’s not long and looks easy enough. Wish me luck. We’re off

Cass took another sip of his coffee and started to type a short response when another text popped up.

Ash (6:50 a.m.): Less than a quarter mile in, and we’ve already found three “treasures” - a rainbow painted rock, a dandelion, and a stick

A picture popped up of Bri, looking as adorable as ever. She wore a pair of yellow leggings, a long-sleeve pink-and-yellow-striped shirt, and a denim sun hat with yellow flowers embroidered on it, and she held up a multicolored rock, as though to show it off, a huge grin on her face. In her other hand, she held a short stub of a branch, which had a few brown pine needles sticking out the end.

Cass laughed quietly before remembering he wasn’t alone. When he glanced up, his dad was watching him over the top of his newspaper, amusement in his eyes. Cass grimaced.

“Sorry. Ignore me.”

His dad gave him what looked like a knowing half smile and shook his head, then took another sip of his coffee and went back to reading his newspaper.

Pursing his lips to hold back any other outward reaction, he started typing again.

Cass (6:51 a.m.): What amazing finds! Tell her the rock is my favorite so far ;)

Cass (6:51 a.m.): Also, I would love photos and commentary, although I can’t understand how you’re already up and out hiking. How long is the trail?

Ash (6:52 a.m.): 4 miles out and back, but it’s nearly flat. We’ll be at the turnaround point in maybe a half hour, unless she insists on walking the whole way

Cass (6:52 a.m.): Would she really walk that far by herself?

From the other side of the table, Cass’s dad set down the newspaper and then pushed his chair back. Cass straightened up and stuffed his phone back in his pocket.