Page 20 of Secret Nights and Northern Lights
Dear god. It’s cold? That’s the best I’ve got?
But why am I procrastinating, anyway?
Perhaps it’s because walking into those steaming waters surrounded by the most romantic scenery I’ve ever laid eyes on—withBen!—feels like a pretty huge mistake. Albeit a necessary one that my job depends on. Quite the conundrum indeed.
“Uh, yeah.” Ben nods at me, amusement crinkling the corners of his eyes as he grins. “That’s why there’s this massive expanseof geothermal water to warm you up. In fact, it’s kind of the whole point.”
“Right.”
As I continue to stand there motionless, Ben’s eyes track slowly down my body, and I remember I’m standing there in egregious display, practically naked in Jacklyn’s sewn-together pieces of string. A flush crawls up my chest, rising into my neck and settling into my cheeks. I spin away, ducking behind a large group of patrons as I abandon my flip-flops in the designated area at the side of the entrance. Turning back, prepared to hightail it into the water like I’m on an episode ofBaywatch, I see the large travel group I’ve chosen to hide behind happens to be all retirement-age folks. Adorable really, if it wasn’t for the fact that moving with any type of haste is something they’ve also retired from.
At this point, I’ve been standing in Jacklyn’s barely-there rags in the frigid Iceland winds for far longer than desired, and my occasional shivers transform to nonstop trembles. I’m helpless to speed this process along, however, as the group of fifty-plus makes their way down the ramp and into the pools at the speed of baby sea turtles journeying to the ocean for the first time, spread out just far enough from one another to block off the entire entrance. Not going anywhere anytime soon, I fold one hand over the opposite fist and bring them to my mouth, blowing warm breath across my fingers to maintain body heat. (Also to provide discreet coverage of my nipples with my forearms as I’m certain they’ve never been this pronounced, and in public no less!)
From the comfort of the steaming mineral water, Ben spotsmy dilemma and struggles to contain the twist of his lips as he fights back laughter. I’m glad this is so goddamn amusing for him.
As I bounce on the balls of my feet, a small opening in the group appears, and I take full advantage. “Excuse me,” I chatter, contorting myself through the mass of bodies. “Pardon me.”
At last, warmth radiates upward inch by inch as I make my way deeper into the silky-smooth pools.
“About time you made it,” Ben teases as I make my way over to him.
Casting him a reproachful look, I sink to my shoulders and will my chin to stop quivering. “You wouldn’t have found it so entertaining if you were driving me to the hospital right now for hypothermia.”
“It’s forty degrees out and you were standing there for less than three minutes. I wasn’t overly concerned.”
“Clearly.”
I move past him to begin my exploration.
The lagoon isn’t all that crowded yet at nine o’clock in the morning, and we’re able to make our way around the pools with ease. Over the next hour, we grab drinks at a swim-up bar and partake in complimentary silica facial masks, allowing the grainy white silica to harden over ten minutes before scrubbing it off at a nearby freshwater faucet. Our conversation stays surface-level as we explore; safe exchanges likeHey, check out the view from this spotandThis green drink isn’t very goodandI can’t believe it isn’t more crowded.
But when we pass underneath a cement bridge and find ourselves in a private, semicircular alcove with not another personin sight, Ben turns to me and timidly asks, “Are you still warm enough?”
From the shift in the cadence of his voice, I know he’s about to delve into deeper conversation than I’m willing to go. “Yeah, I’m okay now.”
“Good.” A stilted silence falls around us as we stand in the pale blue water, steam curling between us, the dark skies overhead enhancing the spectrum of colors around us. I want to stop what I know is coming, but I don’t know how. “Look, Mona, I want to thank you for being so supportive on the flight over. It’s kind of humiliating the way I freaked out.”
There’s an unwelcome flutter in my chest as a pink flush surfaces over Ben’s cheekbones. “There’s nothing to be humiliated about. We all have our fears.”
Silence again ensues as Ben moves his arms back and forth through the water separating us, creating ripples across the surface.
As I wonder if I misread where this conversation was headed, he swallows and then blurts, “Do you think we could talk about what happened between us back then? After what you said at the airport, I’d like to clarify some things.”
The flutter in my chest transforms to a vise grip. The last thing I need is Ben thinking I’m still hung up on something that happened all those years ago. I don’t want his apologies. Or his pity. “No need,” I say, voice tight. “It was a long time ago and we were just kids. None of that matters now.”
There’s a flicker of skepticism in his green eyes before he blinks it away. “So, we’re okay?”
“Yeah, we’re good. No worries.” I deliver my go-to line affablybut with a finality I hope is convincing to the one person who’s ever cared enough to tell when I’m lying.
He regards me with an expression that says he isn’t quite buying what I’m selling, but then the corner of his mouth tips into the slightest grin.
“What?” I ask, immediately self-conscious.
“You still have silica on your cheek.”
“Oh.” I locate a rough patch near my ear and scrub at it with my thumb. “Did I get it?”
“Almost.” Ben wades closer to me, hand emerging from the ice-blue surface. “Here. Let me.”
