Page 88 of Love is an Open Book
Ted’s on a tube next to me, and all I can think about is how much simpler things would’ve been if we’d never dated. No awkwardness wedged between me and Kim in those early days of their relationship. But I didn’t ever love him, and there’s nocomparison of how I felt when he broke up with me to the feelings surging in my chest at watching things go awry with Gavin. Though I tried to hold back, I know in my bones I’ve already passed the point of no return with him.
“Last question,” Chip says. He’s gotten on my nerves since we arrived. Too cheerful. Too blasé about his lack of qualifications. “Either teammate may respond, and once you do so, those standing in the water may join their partner on the tube.”
If it weren’t for my competitive streak, I would’ve already jumped off the raft and sloshed my way over to shore. But there’s still time to be brave. I write love declarations for a living, after all, and I’m damn good at my job.
Chip checks the set of cards in his hand. “Where do you see yourselves, in relation to one another, one year from now?”
You’ve got to be kidding me. It feels like he’s singling us out after my answer earlier. My answer should be:Together.Whether I believe it will come true or not is irrelevant; what matters is that I want to be with Gavin.
But before I can respond, he locks eyes with me and says, “Who knows? I don’t have a crystal ball handy.”
My heart plummets. He’s my teammate, my friend, the man I’m falling in love with, and he’s throwing my insecurities back in my face?
Not looking at me, he splashes toward my raft and hops up next to me with a casual show of athleticism to complete the challenge, but I can’t fake my way through these emotions any longer. I slide off the tube into the river, sinking into silty mud up to my ankles.
It’s humiliating to run away, but tears are already blurring my vision, and I need to get out of here. I move as quickly through the water as possible, which is pretty much sloth pace with the mud tugging at my feet and the current pulling me sideways. I make it to shore and speed up, hurrying toward the parking lot and privacy.
Chip calls out, “Wait, the life vest.” I whirl around and he shrugs. “It’s company property.”
Teeth gritted, I grind the words out. “I’m not stealing the vest, Chip.” I walk around the embankment to the mesh bag that stowed the life jackets. With trembling fingers, I unbuckle the top strap.
The sound of sandy gravel crunching lets me know I’ve been followed. Gavin jogs around the corner, slowing when he catches sight of me. Seaweed clings to his wet shins, his swim trunks bunched and dripping. His hair is windblown, cheeks reddened from the sun. He’s a mess. A gorgeous, wonderful, frustrating mess.
“I told you this was a bad idea,” he says.
“Maybe this—” I gesture between us “—was the bad idea.” It doesn’t feel that way, not really. But I’m still reeling from him calling out my insecurities in front of everyone.
He shakes his head. “The problem is you’ve been doing this halfway. Not being real in front of the people closest to us in case it doesn’t work out. Keeping our relationship a secret gave you a reason to hold back.”
All I was doing was trying to protect my heart. “Maybe the timing isn’t right,” I say, unwilling to admit he’s right. “I’m working on what could be the biggest book of my career, and you might be moving—”
“All of which we can get through together, like we always have.”
“As friends.”
“But isn’t this better?” He steps closer. “There’s nothing holding us back now.” His words knock against my greatest fear, like a wrecking ball to dominoes. Nothing held back. All my defenses gone. My heart could get broken, and he wouldn’t be there to pick up the pieces.
“This isn’t the way friends get a happy ending.”
Eyes wide, Gavin runs his hands through his hair, scattering droplets. “That’s why you’ve been blocked, isn’t it? Not because you don’t see chemistry between Sydney and Victor. But because you don’t believe they can have a happy-ever-after.”
“They’re not us. You know that. My characters are never real people.”
“But they’re friends. And that’s the problem.”
I have no choice but to nod. “Yeah. But it’s a ‘me problem,’ not an ‘us problem.’”
“Except we’re anusnow, Mia. We’re not just friends, and if you truly don’t believe we have a future—”
“This is ridiculous. I’m not having this fight with you.”
“Then tell me you believe in us.”
“There’s no one I trust more in this world, Gavin. You know that. But love is different. It’s out of our control.”
“Actually, I disagree,” he says. “I think it’s a choice.” He’s so close I can see his eyelashes are clumped, dark with water. The crystalline droplets on his forehead and cheeks. The anguish and yearning in his deep blue eyes. “But it’s a choice that two people have to make together.”
I want to choose him, but I’m scared. There are too many unknowns. Fingers trembling, I yank at the straps of the life jacket. “Waste of time,” I mutter in frustration.
