Page 9 of Waiting For Ever
God, Ev, collect yourself.
I walk to the edge of the trail and decide to stretch a bit while I wait. And breathe like Allie is always harping on. Maybe the deep breaths will rein in my hormones. Or whatever this is.
Chapter 10
Julian
Stepping off the last stair, I stop short. Ever is bent over stretching, giving me a perfect view of her ass. Her hands are flat on the ground, her legs spread slightly apart and she’s lunging from side to side. She stands up as I remain frozen in place and reaches above her head, first one arm, then the other. Her top rises with each flex, exposing the skin on the small of her back.
Swallowing, I shove the glasses onto my face, thanking my forethought in retrieving them before heading to the cliffs. Pretty soon the cliffs will be littered with locals and occasional campers jumping off into the blue, daring each other with flips and dives. I’ve jumped plenty of times, not on a dare, but because I like the rush and the chilly plunge. But mostly I prefer the view from the top, sitting above this place I’ve come to love so much. It grounds me like nothing can or has in the last three years. Lifting weights distracts me and allows me to release anger and frustration, like kickboxing. But the cliffs settle me. And if Ever keeps stretching in front of me like this, I’ll need that settling more than I care to admit.
Clearing my throat, I ask, “Ready?” for the second time in fifteen minutes.
She turns, nods and walks toward the trail.
It still amazes me that I live right here with a lake that boasts breathtaking views and a trail that begins in my backyard. We don’t talk as we work through the flats.
“I haven’t been on this side of the trail in years.” Ever, keeping perfect pace with me as the trail begins its incline, is barely breathing heavy and holding down a conversation. I’m impressed. “When did you first move to Blue Lake, or did you grow up here?”
“I’ve been here almost three years now. I grew up across the lake in South Point. Came here after high school, met Allie, got into fitness and . . . I don’t know . . . just never left.”
“Oh my God, this view!” Abandoning our conversation, she rushes to the edge of the path to peek between the trees and brush at the view beyond and below us.
My lips curve up at her excitement. I love that she gets as excited by the view as I do. It’s spectacular. Until she leans over the edge. “EVER!” I jerk her back from the edge by her shoulders, pinning her back to my chest, curling one arm across her chest.
Her heart drums against my wrist through the thin fabric of her top. She tilts her head up to look at me, her gray eyes wide.
I loosen my grip on her as she pivots to face me. But I don’t release her.
“Wha—what just happened? Whatwasthat?” Her puffs of breath hit my neck just above my collar.
I want to lower my face and feel those puffs on my lips. “You . . . I . . . you just scared me for a sec. A little too close to the edge forme I guess.” Like a gravitational pull, I dip my chin, aligning my lips perfectly with hers. And know without knowing they’ll be satin soft. Another inch and I’ll know for sure.
“Ayo, my dudes. What’s good?”
We turn at the sound of Lilly calling out to us. We step back from each other in sync. Still, instinct pushes me to grasp her arm and stop Ever from getting too close to the edge again.
“Lilly. Noah. Hey.” I smile and raise my hand in a saluting wave. “What’s good with you?”
Noah chimes in. “Taking advantage of the day off to hang at the cliffs before the hoolies take over. Right, baby?”
Giggling, she tosses back, “You’re a hoolie, Noah,” and punches him playfully.
“You’re more hoolie than I am, Southy. At least I was born here. You’re from across the lake.” He traps the hand she swings at him, pulls her in and smacks her lips loudly with a kiss. “You guys heading up?” he calls and continues up the trail holding Lilly’s hand.
The moment is long gone now, which I tell myself is a good thing. I toss my head toward the couple to saylet’s goto Ever.
She falls into step without missing a beat and asks me in a mock whisper, “If Lilly is morehooliethan Noah, what the hell does that make us?”
She rallies from our almost kiss like a pro. She’s either completely unfazed by it—and me—or a pro at compartmentalizing. Something tells me she’s had her share of experience in the need to do so, which does nothing to lessen my desire to protect her. Matching her energy, I answer back playfully, “I don’t think we want to know.”
By the time we catch up to them at the top of the cliff, they’re both sitting on the ledge of the jutting rocks looking out over Blue Lake. They make a portrait with their silhouettes against the majestic backdrop. I jar to a stop, seeing them like that, clearly well-matched and in love. It transports me back in time to when I made picturesque moments like that with someone I loved.
Ever collides with my back, snapping me out of my trance. With a giggle and a sidestep, she pulls her phone from her pack and snaps a few pictures of them before they realize we’ve caught up. If she noticed my reaction, she doesn’t let on. Stuffing her phone back in her bag, she spreads her arms wide and turns a full circle. “The air smells cleaner up here, if that’s possible,” she says to no one particular.
“Yeah, it’s why we don’t let the hoolies come up here,” Noah responds.
“Really? It’s off limits?” she asks it with a laugh.
