Page 31 of Waiting For Ever
Speaking of dreams, I want to propose something. I’m not sure she’ll go for it. I’m not sure I’m capable of living up to my end of it. But I find I can’t help suggesting it. Once the idea struck me, I wanted her to agree to it more than I’ve wanted anything, save one, but we don’t get do-overs. I shake the thought away as quickly as it comes. But, yeah, the only thing I might want more would involve turningback time, and I’m not even sure ifmoreis accurate. But since that’s not an option, I mentally shake off that train of thought as we head into town.
Townis only a few blocks away by city standards. In Blue Lake, those blocks are stretches of country highway, fields and fence lines with houses spaced acres apart. I switch my focus to how to pose the question I want to ask Ever. I start with small talk—which I’m admittedly bad at.
“So, how’d you sleep?”
“Still good. Just like the first time you asked me.” She softens her response with a wink.
“Oh, yeah, I did ask already. Didn’t I?”
“Yeah,” she says with a giggle. “Spit it out, Julie. What’s up?”
“That,” he exclaimed, like it explained everything.
“That, what? Gonna need a little more here.”
“I know.” I blow out a breath. “Okay, here’s the thing. We seem to be in tune to each other. Get each other. And we even . . . we sleep better together, right?” I rush on before she can answer. “I mean, we both seem to . . . I don’t know . . . torment ourselves in sleep with . . . bad dreams of the past. But you said you slept well last night. And you did. I was there. And the other night, when I . . . when you came in . . . it . . . helped. Maybe we could just sleep together. To . . . you know . . .”Fuck, why did I always feel like a stupid kid around her?I backpedal. “It’s probably a terrible idea. Would probably just torture ourselves in a new way. Forget I brought it up.”
Chapter 26
Everly
“No. I think you have a point. But first . . . coffee,” I wink, turning my head quickly from the driver’s seat to face him and smile. Hair whips across my face with the breeze from the open windows. I’m thrilled that Blue Lake boasts a Starbucks. I’m too excited to go there. Like a slice of my old life, but a part that doesn’t haunt me. One that feels like a favorite book. Before we leave the driveway, I use my app to place our drink order so it’ll be ready when we get there. Julian requests black coffee.Boring.I ask him to trust me and add vanilla cold foam to the top. And in the spirit of being healthier, I plug in my order the same way. The approval on his face is as clear as if he’d spoken it out loud. I couldn’t contain the eye roll as I pull out onto the highway. Granted, Starbucks coffees could contain more sugar than coffee depending on the order, but they’re damn delicious. And all this health stuff really does make me feel better physically than I ever have. I’m just not ready to admit that to Julian.
I catch his dimple from the corner of my eye before I return my gaze to the road. When his hand reaches out and tucks my hair behindmy ear, I want to freeze the moment. Julian riding in the passenger seat, that lazy half smile, me driving to my favorite coffee shop on this hypnotic tree-lined highway, green velvet stretching over rolling hills. Maybe it’s the fresh air up here or all the working out or finally finding someone who makes me want all the things every other girl my age seems to find so easily, but my thoughts rush like a river. My feelings settle like a bubbling brook. I can’t keep up with the contrast—a raging flood and a peaceful flow.
For the first time that I can recall, my external life matches my internal one. I feel seen. Wanted. Beautiful. I love who I am with him. I want to raise my hands to the sky like some born-again holy roller and thank God or the universe for everything that has led me to this moment, to this person next to me. Instead, I reach across the center console of Allie’s 4Runner and place my hand on top of his much larger one, clasp my fingers around it and squeeze.
He turns his over and laces our fingers together. Then he brings our hands to his lips and kisses the back of mine.
My tummy flips at the touch of his lips on my skin.
Yep, book boyfriends have nothing on this guy.
Pulling into the Starbucks parking lot, the app notifies me that our order is ready for pickup. I feel him tense before he lets go of my hand. I track his line of vision to the red convertible with the custom plate, SYLVIED. Before I put the car in park, he removes his seat belt and offers to go inside and pick up our drinks from the mobile counter. I envisioned us sitting at a table, sharing a coffee over conversation. I stamp down my disappointment.
As he steps out of the car, he reaches for my hand and squeezes. “Let’s take ours to the lake. It’s a perfect day out.”
I smile and nod, grateful for the shades I’m wearing, knowing my eyes would belie my cheerful compliance. If I wasn’t totally sure Julian and Sylvie had hooked up, I’d bet money on it now. I try not to let this realization dampen my spirits. The guy is twenty-one years old. To think he wouldn’t have a past is ridiculous. I just wish it didn’t have to be with a hot cougar reliving her glory days. I hate myself a little for the bitchy description. In my defense, Sylvie was bitchy to me first.
It takes Julian no time to return with our coffees. I take some small satisfaction in watching him tip his cup to the cougar table on his way out the door, knowing he didn’t stop to talk to any of them, especially Sylvie. But I still want to know what that situation was . . . or is. I’m just not sure it’s my place to ask.
Since he requested drinking our coffee at the lake, I head to Brew. Julian said he wanted to check in on his apartment and pick up his mail. I hang back, not wanting to intrude on his space.
“C’mon, it’ll just take a second.” He tosses his head toward his place as he says it.
I don’t analyze my delight at being invited to join him.
The apartment above a garage implies simple, possibly rundown. It isn’t. The inside is breathtaking. Elegant, even. I mean, it screamssingle guybut in a cool, rustic way. Open beams on vaulted ceilings, remodeled kitchen with granite counters and an island bar. The furniture is muted in color and shouts cozy. The whole place begs you to snuggle in and stay awhile. And I want to. This urge to hide away right here from the rest of the world and keep this place and the man in it all to myself is powerful. My old therapist would have a field day unpacking that trauma response to abandonment.
I turn a complete circle before I catch Julian staring at me. I grin at him, unable to contain my delight. He smiles back almost shyly but doesn’t speak. Like he’s waiting for me to say something. I don’t hold back. “I love your place. It feels . . . safe.” My confession has his smile claiming his whole face, forcing his dimples and creasing the corners of his eyes.
“I’ll just be a second. Gonna grab a couple things from the bedroom.” As he moves down the short hall and disappears through one of two doors, I ignore the urge to follow him. What does his bedroom, his bed, look like? Feel like? Smell like? My foot takes an involuntary step in that direction. I pivot and turn toward the wall of windows that look out across the lake. Wrapping my arms around my stomach, I take in the view. I understand the sway of so many windows with a view like this and the one at Allie’s. It’s so beautiful, it stings my eyes. It swirls around you, envelops you and promises to make everything alright.I wanna stay.I jerk at that thought like it was audible. I look over both shoulders to ensure someone hasn’t spoken it out loud.
Julian appears from the hallway with a lightweight drawstring backpack over his shoulder. He stops short when he sees my face. “You okay?”
“Yeah, totally. I just really like it here.”
“Thanks. It didn’t always look like this. And we can have our coffee date here if you want. On the deck?”
