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“Rod Rokas?”
This time I swatted his ass with the kitchen towel, and he yelped. “Do I need to whip out my ski medals? My fucking World Cup title? My current resume overflowing with alpine awesomeness?”
Jules threw his head back and laughed. “You’re the most modest person I know until the two of us are behind closed doors. Then it’s all, ‘World Cup’ this and ‘Olympic Team’ that. Surprised your head can even fit in this tiny cabin.”
We both knew that wasn’t true. I rarely talked about the years I’d spent pursuing pro skiing because I’d actually hated them. It was why I’d used his car accident as an excuse to quit the team. Julian had been T-boned by a drunk driver one night in grad school on his way home from a study session. His parents and Hazel had been in Hawaii on vacation at the time, so I’d been the one to drop everything and fly out east to take care of him.
When he finished pushing food around in the pan, we served ourselves and took our plates back to the sofa in the living area. I threw another couple of logs into the fireplace and watched the wood take the flames as I sat back down to eat.
Being quiet with Julian felt natural and healing, as always. After a while, the sound of our cutlery clanking against the plates died down, and I took our empty dishes to the kitchen before returning to the sofa. This time, I lay down with my head in Julian’s lap and felt his hand immediately go into my hair the way it always did. I stared at the fire while he gently sifted through my hair and lightly scratched my scalp. The faint headache I’d been fighting off for the past few hours receded a little.
“Think she’s okay?” I asked softly after a while.
His fingers paused for a moment before continuing. “You should text her and ask.”
Somehow, that didn’t feel right. If she’d wanted my help, she’d have come to me instead of running away. “Nah. She needs to figure things out on her own.”
He made a sound that didn’t agree or disagree.
“Has Hazel texted you?” I asked after another few minutes.
I felt Julian shift as he reached over to the side table to grab his phone. After a few seconds, I felt his muscles tense.
He didn’t say anything.
I rolled over onto my back to look up at him. “Dammit, Jules. What did she say?”
He didn’t realize he was now cupping my cheek and brushing a thumb idly across the tender skin below my eye. The caress was soothing, but then again, he’d always had this effect on me. When I needed comfort, Julian was the first person I thought of. It had been that way as long as I could remember.
Julian sighed and met my eyes. “She said Erin decided to fly to Mexico.”
I sat up so fast my head spun for a split-second. For some reason, a laugh bubbled up. “She went on our fucking honeymoon? By herself?”
Julian’s pink ears were an instant giveaway. I laughed again. “Oh my god, she’s planning to find someone to hook up with, isn’t she? Well, that’s an adventure alright.”
“Parker, could you be serious for five seconds?”
“I am serious. She wants adventure, she’s getting it.” It still sucked that I couldn’t be what she needed. I still felt adrift in all kinds of ways I didn’t want to think about, but the relief I’d felt earlier was still there. Undeniable.
“Easy as that?” Jules demanded. “You’re saying it doesn’t bother you one bit? You don’t even have any made-up statistics to quote about the percentage of all-inclusive-resort hookups that end in disaster?”
I snorted. “Not a single one.” Surprisingly, the idea really didn’t bother me. I felt zero jealousy when it came to Erin, which I suppose was yet another giant red flag I’d mistaken for a good omen.
I stood up and made my way to the kitchen, where I’d spotted an unusually large collection of brand-new liquor bottles stashed in the cabinet next to the fridge.
Julian bit his lower lip like he was struggling for patience and shook his head. “Don’t worry about it, Parks. I’m sure it doesn’t mean anything. She’ll go have her fun and then come back with a clear head. You can do things differently next time. The two of you can go to Vegas or something.”
“There won’t be a next time, Jules. She and I are done.”
“You say that every time, and yet…”
He was right. Erin and I were that annoying couple who broke up and got back together a thousand times over the years. Even I hated that about us.
“This time it’s for real, though,” I promised. “I’m done with women. From now on, it’s just you and me, okay?”
