Page 92 of Bottle Shock
I nod, unable to speak, but I do remember. I remember I hadn’t seen him in years and thought the crush I’d harbored had faded—but then there he was, and so was that flutter in my chest.
“Something changed that day. I didn’t want to stop talking to you. I wanted to get to know you—the adult you. But you were moving to L.A., and I wasn’t sticking around. After that, being around you was hard. I didn’t know how to be your friend and not want more, so I kept my distance. I tried to stop thinking of you, tried to convince myself it was just a crush. So I kept traveling, kept myself distracted. And then Lily was born, and the dream of you faded further and further away. But my feelings never did. And now I just can’t?—”
“You can’t what?”
“I can’t move on from you. You’re all I want. All I think about.”
I stare up at him, pulse pounding, trying to find something to hold onto. A thought. A breath. A word. Anything.
But all I can manage is, “Gavin…”
He doesn’t give me room to backpedal. He doesn’t let me run. His thumb strokes once along my jaw—slow, reverent, like he’s memorizing me.
“I have an idea ,” he says quietly. The kind of quiet that holds gravity. That asks to be taken seriously.
My heart trips. “Okay…”
“This weekend,” he says. “While we’re at Wallula Lake.”
I blink. “What about it?”
His gaze flicks down to my mouth before returning to my eyes—steady, unflinching. “Maybe we try it.”
My breath stops. He waits.
“Try what?” I ask, even though I think I know. At least I hope I know.
“Us.” His voice is warm velvet. Sure. Anchored.
“I know it’s fast, but life is short.”
It is fast. But if anyone knows how quickly everything can change, it’s me.
“No pretending,” he continues. “No holding back. No dancing around whatever this is. We’re supposed to be a married couple anyway. We are legally married. So what if we just try it? See how it feels to really be together.”
I feel every word like fingertips trailing down my spine.
He continues, softer now, vulnerable in a way I’ve never seen from him.
“Away from my family. Away from expectations. No prying eyes on us. No pressure. Just you and me. Being. And afterward, we’ll know. We’ll know if there’s something here. If it’s worth pursuing. If it’s real.”
My chest tightens, breath shaky. “But what about when I leave?”
He doesn’t look away. Not even for a second.
“I have no intention of getting in the way of your dreams,” he says. “You’ve worked your whole life for them. I would never take that from you.” His jaw works, emotion thick in his throat. “But I also don’t want to lose you. And if there’s even a chance that what we have is worth holding onto—it might be worth trying.”
My heart lurches. Reaching for him like it’s been waiting for this moment. For him.
“I don’t want to get hurt,” I whisper. “I’m scared.” I didn’t mean to admit it, but it’s true.
“I know.” His hand slides from my jaw to the side of my neck, thumb resting just below my ear. “And I don’t want either of us to get hurt. I’m terrified of that. But I would rather risk the pain than spend the rest of my life wondering what could’ve been.”
I exhale shakily, because he’s saying all the things I’ve always wanted to hear.
Everything I’ve ever wanted.
All the things I told myself I couldn’t have.
