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When I inevitably return home to visit my family, we’ll cross paths. He works at the camp. I won’t be able to avoid him.
And I won’t be able to touch him, taste him, breathe him in like I’m doing right now.
I’ve never been in a serious relationship. I’m probably going to screw something up at some point.
I’ll have to stand by while he moves on with someone else.
The thought twists in my stomach, making me physically ill.
What’s the alternative though, never coming home? Impossible.
Every potential path rolling out in front of me looms like a craggy mountain that’s impossible to ascend.
“Are you okay?” His voice is husky with sleep.
I lift my head to meet his sleepy-eyed gaze. “Did I wake you?”
“Not really. But I can feel your tension.”
“I’m sorry.”
His arm clasps me tighter. “No need to be sorry.” The worried crease between his eyebrows is so cute. I stretch up to kiss it.
Something clatters outside the tent.
“What is that?”
I twist toward the tent door right as the zipper slides down and Jake sticks his head inside. “Taylor, you awake yet? It’s almost ten—oh Jesus.” His head disappears, the zipper still half down.
I tuck my head into Atticus’s neck, shoulders shaking with laughter. I turn my head to call out, “Jake, I told you, you need to learn how to knock.”
There’s no reply for a few long seconds, then he replies in a tortured voice, “This is a tent, there’s nowhere to knock.” He releases a long-suffering sigh. “Ace, please tell me you are both fully dressed under those blankets and there’s a logical reason for the spooning that doesn’t involve you boning my sister?”
I scramble out of bed and fumble for my clothes, dragging my T-shirt over my head.
Atticus sits up in the bed, making no moves to get dressed. “I can neither confirm nor deny our nudity and or the boning situation.”
Jake groans. “Gross, man. We’re best friends. I’m so hurt.” He doesn’t sound very hurt, actually.
I yank my pants up and then pull the zipper on the tent the rest of the way down. “It’s fine Jake.”
He leans against a tree trunk nearby. “I know. Trust me, I’ve seen way worse from our sisters.” Then he waggles his finger at me. “You’ve been keeping more secrets, Taylor.”
I sigh. “This isn’t anyone’s business except me and Atticus, Jake.”
He stands up, shoving his hands in his pockets. “You’re right.”
I freeze. “I’m sorry, can you repeat that? And hold on, I’m going to grab my cell phone and record it.”
He waves a hand at me. “I just wanted to let you know people are packing up to leave. The cleanup crew is here, and the stage is being dismantled.” He kicks at the dirt, ducking his head and lowering his voice. “And if you and Ace are happy, I’m happy. He’s a great guy. You’ve done way worse.”
I chuckle and then glance over my shoulder at Atticus, lying in the rumpled sheets we shared last night, hands behind his head, body like a Greek god.
My stomach dips.
Leaving is really going to suck.
* * *
