Page 42 of Fresh Tracks
“So is anyone else famous going to be at this thing? You’re going to have to give me all the juicy gossip. You know that,right?” She turns toward me and her head drops the slightest bit. Even with her goggles on, I know she’s raising her eyebrows at me expectedly.
“Yeah, some of the other Teal Tigers guys are supposed to be there to hype the new restaurant. He gave me the run down on them while we watched their old music videos and live performances last night before we fell asleep,” I say before taking a drink from my hydration backpack.
I turn to see Josie’s mouth open, but saying nothing.
“What?” I ask, jutting my head out toward her.
She slowly lifts her goggles and looks at me, her eyes wide.
“You saidwefell asleep.” She keeps staring at me and it clicks.
“It was nothing. It was late, he saw the lights on in the guesthouse, and I asked if he wanted to hang out,” I say calmly, not giving in to her hopes forjuicy gossip.“We had some wine, talked, watched those videos, and it was late so we just fell asleep on the couch together. Seriously, it’s not a big deal.”
The corners of her mouth lift into a smirk. “First, he drinks wine. Big yes. Second, you two fell asleep on the couch together?”
“Seriously, Josie. Nothing happened. The guesthouse only has the one couch. We were sitting there all night and just hanging out.”
“Really?” She raises her eyebrows again in question. “Nothinghappened? Then why are your cheeks so red, girl?”
Damnit. Thanks again, traitorous body.
My mind goes back to last night, remembering how it felt to be so close to him. But still, it was just a casual night hanging out with a friend, right? Yeah, I did fall asleep on him. And yes, he smelled so, so good. Something about that bergamot and pine scent put me at ease. Waking up with him gone, I breathed in the lingering traces of it and wished he was there.
Still though, he knows I’m just an outgoing goof with no personal space boundaries. I’m sure it didn’t mean anything to him.
“Nothing, except I might have fallen asleeponhim. Just his shoulder,” I admit, trying to convince myself it was nothing and shrug it off.
“There it is,” she says, her smirk widening. “I knew there was more. And, where was his arm?”
“Around me,” I say, the realization that she might be onto something slowly settling in. I keep thinking about how his arm was slung over the back of the couch. Or was he wrapping it around me?
She laughs to herself, shaking her head. “Only you would find yourself cuddled up with a rockstar and think nothing of it.”
I keep that thought to myself to sort out later. With the Seattle trip coming up and being in Jackson longer than I was originally planning, I need to go back to my place in Park City to grab some things I didn’t even think to ask Josie to bring. Suddenly now I’m finding myself with a surprisingly crammed schedule.
“Anyway, let’s talk about the Tahoe trip. We need to pick some dates soon if you still want to squeeze that trip in,” I say.
She throws her head back and groans and I get it. Neither of us are huge on pinning down dates and prefer to live in the moment and be free and spontaneous. “You know my calendar is clear. Just say when and I’ll show up. I’ll even make sure we can get that one campground we like, right on the state line.”
I love that campground in South Lake Tahoe. It’s been one of my favorite places to stay since it’s right on the water. Being on the state line between California and Nevada, we can walk to all the bars and casinos, and there’s even a shuttle to the ski resort village.
“If we go after President’s Day, we’ll avoid the holidaycrowds. A week next month would be perfect,” I say, knowing that’s well after the Seattle trip. It will also give me enough time to go back to Park City to grab some more things from my apartment.
I turninto TJ’s driveway, pulling all the way down toward the guesthouse. After a morning of skiing, I’m secretly glad I’m staying here. The shower at the gym is nice, but the one here in the guesthouse with full body spa sprayers is flat out heavenly. I can’t even imagine what TJ must have in his bathroom.
Hopping out of my van, I start down the path to the guesthouse, but something stops me right in my tracks.
There’s a new wooden post where the edge of the driveway meets the walking path. It matches the fence posts around the property, but this one is only waist high and standing by itself. On the front of it are two small, metal flip-up lids. I flip one open, but I already know what’s under the lid. Sure enough, it’s a high powdered outlet, just like the one at campgrounds to charge RVs and vans like mine.
Freaking. TJ.
Maybe that’s why he left the guesthouse so early this morning because he damn well knows that if he would have asked me, I would have said no. Part of the fun of van life is the adventure of not always having it easy and part of me is irritated that he just did it on his own. The rest of me though, that’s another story. Something about this gesture feels so personal, so heartfelt. And again, there’s that decisiveness about him that I can’t resist.
I flip open the second lid and find there’s a note taped under it.
It’s too late to say no, Rainbow.Now please, don’t make a geriatric millennial worry all night and keep your van warm.
I keep trying to tell myself these little gestures don’t mean anything, but that feels like more and more of a lie.
