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He tucks some hair behind my ear. “Okay, but we’re going to take it slow.”
I nod. “No time frame. Just—”
“I know.” He inches forward but stops himself. “Is this okay?”
“Yes.”
He presses his lips to mine, but he doesn’t slide his tongue into my mouth. It’s just his soft lips against mine until he pulls away. “Thank you for trusting me.”
“You’re welcome. It feels kind of like losing my second virginity.” His eyes go wide, and I laugh. “Relax. I’m just kidding.” Kind of.
“Come on. It’s time to get you to bed.” He urges me up and stands with me, then pours some water on the coals and moves them around with the stick to make sure there aren’t any hot spots before taking my hand.
Inside the quiet gym, right before he slides into his tent and I slide in with the girls, he whispers, “Brinley?”
“Yeah?” I say, inching closer to him.
“I’m going to miss you.”
I smile, sort of a sad one, and press my lips to his. When I lean back, I whisper, “Me too.”
Then we each crawl into our tents and the girls swarm me, making the tent feel so hot it’s like I’m going to suffocate. I don’t get much sleep, my mind whirling about Van and how much I care for him already.
I can’t believe I told him that story. Recalling it still feels mortifying, but he’s trustworthy and he has to know if I plan on trying to cross that line with him eventually.
The next day, as I’m driving the girls back to their parents, Abby and Allie are arguing in the back seat over who’s going to marry Van.
“Girls, he’s almost twenty years older than you.”
Abby looks at me through the rearview mirror. “Fine. Then you marry him.” Her expression is one I’ve seen on Uncle Denver before—like she’s issuing a challenge.
I shake my head. “Not going to happen. I’m sure there will be boys like Van when you get older.”
“Do you think he’ll come to the Girl Scout outing next year?” Allie asks, voice filled with hope.
How do I explain to ten-year-olds? Answer: I don’t. It’s a conversation for next year, though they probably won’t even remember him. I have a feeling I’m the only one who will remember Van Adler after he leaves Lake Starlight and I kind of like that. He’ll always have a piece of me, and I’ll have a piece of him.
“Why are you smiling?” Abby asks.
“Nothing.”
“We know you like him. You guys were staring at each other over pancakes this morning,” Allie says.
“You know he’s a better cook than you, right?” Abby asks.
I balk, but they don’t care.
“Not to hurt your feelings,” Allie adds.
“I know. Whatever he put in those pancakes was good.”
The three of us chuckle.
“Dad prides himself on his. I won’t tell him Van’s beat his any day of the week,” Allie says.
Abby, on the other hand, will probably tell Uncle Denver exactly that, then I’ll get the phone call about it. They’re right though, so now I need two things from Van before he leaves—his pancake recipe and a passionate night of raw, animalistic sex. I don’t think that’s asking too much.
I laugh at my thoughts and Abby looks at me through the mirror as though I’m crazy. I can’t deny I haven’t been myself since Van crossed over the Lake Starlight city line, but I’m starting to think that might be a good thing.
