Page 94 of Fool Me

Until he turns on his heel, shoves the board back into the bed of his truck, and climbs into the driver’s seat—barefoot and shirtless—before peeling out without a word.

“What the fuck?” Atlas mutters.

I kick him under the water. It was rude, but Tessa and Aspen both look to be near tears at the unexpected departure. Tessa’s the first to school her expression, reaching across the water and squeezing Aspen’s hand.

Briar glares are her husband. “I told you.”

Denver stands in the water, his jaw tight as the dust settles and Drake’s tail lights disappear. “Fuck. I’m sorry,” he says to Aspen, his eyes shifting to Tessa for a moment. “He can be such an asshole sometimes. I just thought he should get out of that damn cabin.”

“It’s fine. I’ll drive up and talk to him tomorrow,” Aspen says, giving her brother more grace than I would.

The others start to paddle away, and Atlas leans over, pulling my board closer and whispering, “Are we just going to pretend that didn’t happen?”

“We are because I want Aspen and Tessa to enjoy their day.”

“But that was messed up, right?”

“It was,” I agree. “But this feels like a whole lot of history that you and I aren’t privy to. So, maybe we try not to judge too harshly.”

He raises an eyebrow and I wonder if he’s thinking about my history with his brother.

“I’m evolving,” I tell him with a shrug.

I put my paddle into the water, but Atlas doesn’t let go. “Don’t change for me, Clover—I don’t expect you to and I don’t want you to. There’s room in my life for you just the way you are.”

It doesn’t feel like we’re talking about Aspen’s brother anymore.

I lean over and kiss him. When we catch up to the group a minute later, Denver is passing back drinks to Tessa and Aspen like Drake’s little tantrum never happened.

By the time we make it back to my house, where everyone is meeting to grill out and watch the fireworks, everyone has a touch of sun on their cheeks despite Aspen being vigilant about making everyone reapply sunscreen.

As an accessory to the touch of pink on our cheeks, we all wear relaxed smiles from the day together.

Hosting with this group doesn’t mean doing it all on your own. From the moment everyone pours out of the truck and onto my lawn, they’re helping. The guys go straight to the grill to get food going, and the girls drag out blankets and chairs to get them laid out for later.

Across the river, the park is filled with people showing up for the festivities, and to grab a spot for the show.

While we wait for the food, a cornhole tournament starts up. Everyone rotates in and out, so no one is stuck manning the grill the whole night.

“We really outdid ourselves,” Denver says, patting his flat stomach.

“So good,” I agree, laying my head on Atlas’s shoulder and looking over at him. “You’re going to have to carry me inside—I’m too full to move.”

He leans into my touch, dipping to kiss my forehead. “That can be arranged.”

“How are you feeling about all this? Does Wyoming feel like home again?”

He looks around at our friends. “It more thanfeelslike home, itishome. Today was really fucking good.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he confirms.

I abandon my seat, taking over his lap.

“Maybe it would have felt that way at some point either way, but meeting you made it so much easier. You helped me find my spot in Timberline Peak again.”

I kiss him soft and slow because I can do that now for no reason other than I want to. So I do. A lot, apparently, because Aspen groans next to me. “If you guys don’t stop, I’m going to end up lonely and send a ‘you up’ text to the hot doctor tonight, and I don’t do that—I make him come to me.”

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