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16
CARLEIGH
If I hadn’t already been pretty sure that I was at least a little in love with Bryson, this – him organizing a group of people to come and cheer me on during the marathon I signed up to run even before I knew him, just to be supportive – solidified it.
But he did, and so now I’ve just fallen harder for my tall, scruffy, too-loud roommate, who has a knack for airlock jars and who doesn’t like to wear shoes.He’s impulsive, bright, and probably has mild attention deficit disorder and I’m so, so, so into him.
When my eyes met his, standing there with Molly and all of the others that morning before my run, I was so touched that my heart felt like it almost physically hurt.If my parents and our friends hadn’t also been right there, I probably would’ve kissed him.I settled for a hug, but my mother had given me a knowing look afterward.I can never hide from her.It probably doesn’t help that I've definitely talked a little too much about Bryson during our weekly calls; it’s all just getting so hard to contain.
And finally, with this gesture, I’m fairly certain it’s mutual.
We’re at a campsite at a lake a little ways down the highway from Lake Placid.The place is decked out with everything I imagine we could need, including a couple of different cast iron options for cooking over the fire, a coffee press, and lots of food and drinks.There are also three tents – one tiny one that apparently belongs to Bryson, another for Bishop and Quinn, and a larger one for the three girls to share.I’m in here now with Molly, going through the bag she packed for me.Outside, the guys are playing beer darts with Sawyer, and judging by her happy shriek, she’s just won.
Overall, Molly has done a decent job.It’s my standard summer fare – tank tops, shorts, and a couple of different footwear choices.“I can’t believe you guys did this still,” I say to Molly, as she pulls out a beach towel.“Where’d you get all the gear out there?”
“Bryson, mostly,” Molly answers.“Quinn for a little bit of it.But mainly Bryson.He’s like a real woodsman.”
“That fits,” I reply, and we both giggle.Then, I pull out what is unmistakably the top to a bikini, a bikini that I only own in the first place because of Molly and Trinity, and I groan.“Molly.”
She looks completely unfazed.“Carleigh don’t make that face, it’s like, the most conservative bikini ever.You look incredible and you should show it off.And hey, if Bryson happens to notice, it’s not like that’d be the worst thing in the – ouch!”She rubs her arm where I swatted it.
“Shh,” I hiss.“Announce it to the whole place, why don’t you-”
“Er, you guys making googly eyes at each other every time you’re around one another is basically an announcement in and of itself.”Molly holds up the bikini top.“We’re going to go to the beach tomorrow,” she says pointedly.
Before I can think of a suitable retort, Bryson’s voice calls out, “Carleigh!”
I poke my head out of the tent, glad for the break.“Yeah?”
“I have to take the truck to load up with wood.You want to help?”
Molly waggles her eyebrows at me and makes a crude gesture with her hands.I give her the finger, then call back, “Yeah, I’ll help!”
Before I can leave the tent, Molly reaches out and grabs my wrist.“Hey.I know I’m teasing, but for real, he planned this over a month ago, and he’s been so excited.Think about what that means.”
I chew my bottom lip, nod, then leave the tent.Bryson strides up to the truck, swinging the keys on one finger as he whistles cheerfully.He seems so happy and at ease; being outside seems to really agree with him.It’s so cute I don’t even bother to suppress a light laugh.
“What?”he asks, grinning as he hops in the truck.
I climb in the passenger side.“Nothing,” I say truthfully, buckling the seatbelt.“You just look like you’re really in your element.”
“Er, yeah.”Bryson pulls out of the site slowly.“What’s not to love about this?Trees, friends, fresh air – it’s all the best!”
“It is nice,” I agree, my fingers tapping restlessly against my leg.It’s beautiful, yes – but honestly, while I’m looking forward to this surprise trip, a part of me also wants to be back in our apartment, where I could crawl into his lap and he could hold me, and maybe I would finally kiss him.
When we get to the woodpile, Bryson backs the truck up.I hop out and begin to root through for dry, good pieces.I carry a few to the truck and Bryson takes them from me, looking amused.
“What?”
He smiles and shakes his head.“No, nothing – you don’t actually have to help.It doesn't need to be a two-person job.”
I’m confused.“You asked me to come help,” I remind him, but I lift myself up and sit on the tailgate.I watch as he walks over to the pile and picks up a big armful of wood, his muscles flexing – god, I’m basic, but I find it unbelievably attractive how strong he is.
Bryson sets it all down in the truck bed.As he unloads, he says, “I just wanted an excuse to talk to you.”He brushes wood shavings off his t-shirt and looks at me.“We kind of sprung this whole thing on you and I wanted to make sure it was actually okay.”
He’s sugar, I think immediately.And I’ve always loved dessert.
“Bryson,” I say, smiling.I gesture for him, and he moves to stand in front of my knees, placing two big palms on them.“It’s incredible,” I reassure him.“It’s a very, very good surprise.”
