Page 50 of The Sun and the Moon
I am at a loss for words, but thankfully Sydney isn’t.
“If that’s the easiest option,” Sydney says, holding her dad in a glare before shifting her eyes to me. “As long as you don’t snore.”
That is not what she was supposed to say. She was supposed to be as surprised as me, shaken to her core. The chemistry was supposed to make her proximity-conscious. She shouldn’t offer her room. She can’t possibly think this is actually a good idea.
I can’t sleep near enough to her that I can imagine what it would be like to sleepwithher.
“I don’t snore—”
“Ah, then it’s settled,” Moira interrupts me before I can protest any more. She turns to Sven, who has been silently watching this exchange, doing nothing to try to stop it. “We’ve solved it. Let’s get them checked in!”
While they’re distracted, I turn to Sydney.
“You don’t have to do this,” I say. Notwe shouldn’t do this—which we shouldn’t. NotI can find somewhere else to stay—which I am sure I can even if it’s a couple towns away. But when my eyes find hers, I forget the panic. I forget the lone-wolf girl with no one to have her back. Because Sydney’s eyes are like deep water I could let myself float in. They cover me in comfort like lapping ocean waves used to when I was a little girl. They seem to say that this is going to be okay.
Because it’s not justmegoing through it.
It’sus.
“It’s just two nights, Ranger Girl,” she says. “And as far as anyone knows, we’re not women who could be soulmates.” She coaxes her lips into a tiny smile, and I’m fixated on the way the left corner kicks up higher than the right. Crooked and perfect.
Moira turns back to us, holding a small paper envelope with our room keys and instructions on how to navigate our way there.
“Sven will have your bags brought over,” my mother says, her eyes steady on me. I feel like she’s waiting for something, but I can’t imagine what. I clutch the keys and lift my brows.
“We better get settled in, then,” I say, holding her green eyes with mine.
“Shuttle to Whimsy Winery leaves in thirty minutes.”
“We’ll be there,” I say, giving her a tight smile.
“You remember the dress code—”
“I have plenty of business casual—”
“No hiking boots—”
“Mom, stop.” The name,Mom. Her eyes sheen immediately.
“It’s nice to hear you call me that,” she says, and she doesn’t seem to care that Rick and Sydney are close enough to hear and are definitely watching.
“Reflex,” I say. She nods almost imperceptibly. I walk off in the direction of the doors that lead to the courtyard connecting the lobby to the rooms.
?Sydney and I stand in front of the one queen-size bed sitting ominously in the center of the space.
“There’s only one bed,” she says. I hear a chuckle in her voice.
“She booked you a queen, not a double.” It still isn’t sinking in.
“To be fair to your mom—”
“Let’s not—”
“She didn’t know I would be sharing a room with you,” she says, and I swear to God, now she is most certainly holding in a laugh. Not a chuckle; a full-on guffaw.
“You don’t think she knew—”
“Cadence, she isn’t psych—”
