Page 38 of When It's Us
Am I actually blushing right now? Kill me.
Grabbing a fork from where he found my spoon, he picks up the small frying pan and sits across from me. Fork in hand, he scoops up a bite of eggs and shoves them in his mouth. He holds his fork like a shovel, and I can’t help but smile a little. Even if he is a grown man, it’s kind of cute. Tate and Jordan eat their cereal and soup like that, and the familiarity is nice.
It dawns on me that I have no idea how old Hutch is. I know he’s younger than Hank and their brother Hudson, but I think older than all the girls. It seems like a weird question to ask, though, so I dig into my oats instead.
God, this is amazing,” I mumble around another bite. “I don’t think I’ll be able to eat it all, but I appreciate it.”
He nods, shoveling more eggs into his mouth.
We clean breakfast in an easy rhythm—washing dishes, packing food, securing the chairs and surfboard to the roof rack like we’ve done it a hundred times before.
While Hutch ties everything down, I throw my hair up, dab on a little concealer, and slather more hydrocortisone on the cluster of mosquito bites on my legs. By the time he hops down from the roof, dressed in faded cargo shorts and a black T-shirt that hugs his arms a little too well, I’m ready for whatever the day brings.
“How are your feet?” Hutch asks, and the genuine concern on his face catches me off guard.
I look down at my feet and wiggle my toes in the soft lining of my Ultra mini Ugg boots.
“They feel okay this morning, although I’m not sure those shoes are a good idea for a while.”
He nods, closing the cook stove and turning to stash it in the storage compartment of the van. “I’d planned to hike a bit more today, but if your feet aren’t feeling up to it—”
“It’s okay, I can try the shoes,” I tell him.
He drops his gaze to my feet and grunts out what I think is a sound of approval. “We should get going then, we’ve got ground to cover.”
I nod. “Okay, I’m ready.”
He reaches over and bumps my shoulder gently. “Let’s make it a good day.”
I smile, the morning sunlight warming my face.
There’s an easiness between us that sneaks up on me—quiet, unforced, and unlike anything I’m used to. It settles into the silence without needing to fill it. I’m not sure when it happened, but something started to shift somewhere between the long hike and breakfast.
And yeah, maybe that kind of comfort is scarier than chaos.
Still, as we hop in the van and the road opens ahead of us, I let myself lean into it—a little.
Hutch
“Whereto?”Gingerasksthe second she shuts the door behind her.
I glance in her direction, the taste of her last night still on my mind. Ginger’s always been a little hot and cold with me, something I like more than I probably should, but last night felt different. She’d seemed sad after talking to her son. She hasn’t brought it up, and after she sort of iced me out after that phone call, barely looking at me when she climbed back in the van, I wasn’t sure if I should bring it up.
Which was weird, because I wasn’t in the habit of sugar coating anything or beating around the bush. If I’m curious about something, I’ll usually ask. But for some reason, I didn’t. Instead, I roll out of the parking lot and head in the direction of the highway.
Ginger says her feet are okay for hiking, but she’s stubborn enough for me to bet she’s probably in more pain than she’s letting on.
She isn’t limping like she was last night, but thirty minutes in those shitty excuse for hiking shoes and she’ll be uncomfortable as all hell. It’s been years since I hiked the area we’ll be passing through today, but I won’t miss anything if we skip it. We can absolutely skip it and get more driving time in.
I pick up my phone and hand it to her so she can see the route I’ve mapped out. “Figured we’d drive through here on our way out. You ever been?”
She nods. “A couple of years back.”
“We can skip it if your feet are bothering you. Get on the road sooner.”
“It’s okay. I kind of like the idea of being a tourist in my own state,” she says, covering her lap with that fuzzy checkered blanket.
I tip my chin up at her. “You perpetually cold or something?”
