Page 32 of Everything Has Changed
Gwen smirks, stopping at a line of willows. “You don’t watch horror movies and not pick up a few helpful tips and tricks. To answer your question, no. But I will have to kill you if you share this spot with anyone else.”
Using her hand to part the limbs of the tree, she uses her free one to urge me through the golden foliage. My breath catches as I step through the curtain and take in the sight before me.
The lake glistens beneath the clear night sky, but it’s the mountains surrounding it that really set the scene.
“My parents brought us here when we were kids,” Gwen passes by and takes a seat on the log in the sand. She pats the open spot beside her, a silent request for me to join that I accept. “It’s become our own spot since then.”
“How does no one know about this?”
“Oh, I’m sure tons of people know about it. But it helps that it’s slightly off the path. You know, some people rarely stray from it, despite how beautiful the view might be. Their loss is our gain, though. My siblings and I come here when we need a moment to reconnect. Our own little special place away from the real world. Only the best of the best are allowed in.”
“And I’m one of the best?”
“I think so.”
“Why did you bring me here, though?”
She stares out at the water, her hands running along her thighs before she tucks them underneath her. “Seemed like you needed a little safe space. Somewhere you can go where there are no expectations, no heavy weight of parental wants or needs.” Her hair falls from behind her ear as she looks over at me. “Somewhere for you to just be, well, you.” Her knee knocks with mine, her voice dropping in a whisper. “Where you can find yourself, if you want.”
“How do you know I’m lost?”
Her hand lifts up to my face, a feather light touch ghosting around my eyes. Her grin turns sad at the edges as she looks over my face. “It’s in the eyes.”
The breeze moves between us, floating her hair around her face and sending the scent of peaches wafting over me. Her hand falls away, and the feeling of our connection separating sends an emptiness through me. It’s the same feeling I felt earlier as I held her on the dance floor and wished for the world’s longest slow song to play.
“Gwen,” I whisper. My hand brushes back the hair falling along the side of her face. Her eyes flutter closed when I touch her skin. She leans into my touch as if it’s the most natural thing in the world to do.
“Don’t.” Her eyes open back up and lock onto mine, pleading with wideness while she bites down on her lower lip.
“Don’t what?”
“Don’t say my name like that. Like you feel something more than what this needs to be.” She pulls away from my touch, and my hand falls noisily to my lap. She turns back toward the water, though her head ducks down to stare at the ground.
“I’m confused. Do you not feel whatever is going on between us?”
She shakes her head. “There is nothing going on between us besides a working relationship. We barely even know each other.”
“I don’t believe that. We’ve known each other since we were kids.”
“Which we most definitely are not anymore. There has been a lot of time between then and now.”
I sigh. “That’s the truth.”
“Besides, you just got back in town and you’ve got a lot going on. This,” her hand waves in the space between us, “is just the forced proximity trope at play. Whatever these feelings are or are not will clear up as soon as the festival is over and we can go back to our normal schedules. Whatever that looks like for you as you take on your new role, Mr. Mayor.”
I flinch at the finality of her words, but I’m still stuck on something else she said.
“Forced…what? What are you talking about?”
Tossing her head back, she groans loudly. “Forced proximity trope. It’s what happens when an author needs a reason for the characters to be with each other, so they put them into a situation where theybasically Stockholm Syndrome each other. It’s one of the worst tropes in the books, right after accidental pregnancy.” She shivers animatedly.
“Let me get this straight.” I turn my upper body toward her, my knee shifting on to the log between us. “You think that the feelings I’m developing for you are based off of a horror book trope?”
She rolls her eyes. “Romance book, but yes.”
“I’m not following.”
“Can you honestly tell me that you would have given me a second thought after you came back into town if it weren’t for the fact that we were partnered up for the festival or that we lived next to each other?”
