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CHAPTER 5
AINSLEY, THREE WEEKS LATER
We’re here.
We’re here! I’m so excited. It’s been forever since I’ve taken an actual vacation, and for it to be at this place where Aunt Nell made so many memories is making my heart soft with love for her. She knew how much I missed getting out and walking in nature; taking her for a walk in the park wasn’t much of a substitute.
I might take riding lessons. I’m definitely going to try stand-up paddleboards. I’m definitely hiking up the trail to the top of Salt Pond Mountain to see the amazing view. I’ll swim in the lake and in the pool. I’ll go mountain biking. I’ll learn how to dance (something not too complicated).
I’ll lie out in the sun. I’ll taste everything on the buffet. When it rains, I’ll read a book.
And I’ll be doing all of this with Jordan. I’m grateful he got over his resistance to physical activity sometime in college, because I can’t imagine anyone else I’d rather spend time with.
The cabin’s delightful. Private, but not too private. Jordan tells me to pick which bed I want and he’ll take the other. For the first time ever, a rogue little thought flits through my mind: what if we just share?
I’m instantly horrified at myself.
“You okay?” Jordan asks.
“Yeah. Sure. What do you want to do first?”
“What do you want to do first? It’s your vacation. I’m just the sidekick.”
“No, you’re not,” I say, shocked that he’d think of himself that way. “You’re way more important than that.” I suddenly feel an urgency that he understand me. “Jordan. Dude. I never would have got through any part of the last two years with Aunt Nell without you. You were the one coming over with pizza and finding shows she’d love on Netflix. You were the one giving me a break so I wouldn’t fall apart. You made that whole time fun.” I’m surprised at the tears in my eyes. “You’re just so important to me. You’re my best friend.” I swallow hard.
“And you’re mine,” he says to me. “BFFs, right?”
“Definitely.”
That first afternoon, we hike up Salt Pond Mountain and spread Aunt Nell’s ashes. Jordan reads one of her favorite poems—“Warning,” by Jenny Joseph, the one that talks about wearing purple with a red hat that doesn’t match. Aunt Nell never wore that combination, but she loved color. And spring. Canada geese flying, blue autumn days, Christmas, Easter, coconut cake, gin and tonics, Go Fish, Barbara Cartland novels, and beach music.
We talk about her. We let her go. I cry a little, and Jordan hugs me.
He smells the same as ever, that same good snickerdoodle cookie smell of his skin that’s been comforting me for as long as I’ve known him. I feel supported in his arms…
…and I’m also, unaccountably, feeling, um, horny.
They say funerals make people want to get it on. But I think in this case, it’s just Jordan. He’s always himself, it’s just that his fine self has gotten prettier on the outside in the last couple of years.
After a casual dinner, we decide to swim in the pool near the main lodge. I feel a little self-conscious in my coral bikini. It’s not that daring a two-piece, but it’s like wearing underwear, and I make sure to slip my coverup on before leaving the bathhouse.
Jordan’s already at the pool in his yellow board shorts and Stone Temple Pilots t-shirt, staking out two lounge chairs. “This okay?” He points to the location he’s chosen.
I nod, slipping off my flip-flops. He kicks his off too, then sheds his shirt in that utterly sexy way guys have, pulling it off over his head from the back.
My mouth goes dry.
I mean, I knew he’d been working on his muscles for some time. I knew he was working out.
But it’s been at least five years since we’ve been swimming together, and there are…um…changes. That ridiculous little patch of red hair in the middle of his chest he used to have has become a full-blown, albeit light, coating of hair across his rather yummy pectorals. That’s a genuine treasure trail leading from his navel down into his shorts. And the muscles of his back, chest, and thighs are impressive.
I suddenly want to climb him like a tree.
Thank God, he’s oblivious. “Last one in’s a rotten egg!” he yells, and dashes to the pool to dive in, splashing people too close to the edge.
I shrug off my white coverup and make my way to the pool ladder on shaky legs. By the time I get there, Jordan’s surfacing with wet hair and a giant grin. “I beat you! I get to pick what we’re doing tomorrow.”
The smile leaves his face as he gets a good look at me, and his beautiful hazel eyes grow intense. Which makes me nervous.
