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We opened up to each other, and that was really different for us. Something we’ve never done before.
It’s not only Cole who has trouble with emotions. I pegged that on him—but don’t I have trouble when it comes to gettingreal with people, too? I’ve protected myself with bright smiles, even when inside I’m not smiling. Plus, heaps of sarcasm and sass. Yeah, that used to help me a lot when I was young, back when I felt so afraid and unworthy all the time.
But now I’m almost thirty, and I’malone.
So many of my friends have gotten hitched. Lots of them have kids by now.
But me? I’m still doing my thing… solo.
The one-woman Olivia Show.
I know my life looks cool from the outside. But from the inside perspective, it’s a different story.
And it makes sense that there’s a reason I’m still single, even though I want to find the right guy.
I keep walls up.
That’s hard to admit, but it’s true.
With Cole, yesterday, I laid down my defenses. We said honest things to each other, and now I feel closer to him than ever before.
Like he’s a real friend.
And maybe more than a friend, too.
I know this is all pretend—a big act we’re putting on for Skye and the others.
But in some crazy way, it’s starting to feel real.
I arrive in the little town 30 miles away in less than a half-hour and realize I spent all of the drive daydreaming about Cole.
His eyes are the perfect shade of brown. The way they crinkle at the corners when he cracks a smile. His dark beard, and how it's soft and scratchy when we kiss. The way his voice sounds when he first wakes up.
The way he feels when he holds me—even when it’s just pretend.
I order a coffee and a bagel while still in a daze. Even the breakfast sandwich on the menu makes me think of Cole and getbutterflies. I must really have it bad if reading the words “pork sausage patty and eggs” makes me feel giddy inside.
There are a bunch of tables open. I pick one near the back of the shop, next to a crowded bookshelf with a little sign hanging off the top shelf:‘The best books are shared!’
Maybe that’s true for lots of things.
I’m pretty sure the best moments are shared, too.
I’ve seen that on my travels. How joy gets amplified when it can bounce from person to person. Do I even want to continue with my travel blogging career, if it means globe-trotting solo?
I’m tired of sightseeing by myself. Staying in big hotel beds by myself. Taking myself out to brunch; riding trains and subways and boats without anyone to talk to.
I set up my laptop, open my email, and start scrolling through on autopilot, robotically deleting the messages that I don’t need to read. I sort through a few related to my online dating class and respond to one with my answers to a quiz that I took before leaving Silver Creek. All the while, I keep right on worrying about my blogging career.
The sight of a message from The Travel Network jolts me out of my fretful inner monologue.
I click on it and speed-read the entire thing once through.
Then I doubt what I read, and sort through it again, more slowly.
It’s all there spelled out: The producers and directors ofDream Vacationloved my audition. They wantmeto be the new co-host of the show.
They want to send me on dream vacations, right alongside Spencer Mackie.
