Nash Brothers Box Set - Carrie Aarons Page 0,299

herself into the singular sleeping bag, and I can’t help the disappointment that pings my heart.

Once I fold my body into my own, I flip the switch on the battery-operated lamp beside me, and we’re plunged into darkness. I can hear my family still outside around the fire, laughing and talking about whatever topic they’re onto now.

Ryan flips over with a huff, and apparently, we’re not just going to drift off into awkward sleep. “What you said earlier …”

“Ryan, you don’t have to … we don’t have to talk about it. I didn’t mean it.” I try to take the coward’s way out.

“Yes, you did, don’t play that bullshit with me,” she snaps, and I know I’ve hurt her.

Scooting to close the space, I pull her into my arms, our sleeping bags bunching between us. Even in the few hours she’s been distant, I’ve missed her being here. “I’m sorry. You’re right. I did mean it. But, it doesn’t mean you have to talk about it.”

Ryan blinks slowly, her chin tipped up to look me in the eyes. “I know I don’t. It scares me. We were … taking things slow, and you had to go and say all of that.”

I press a kiss to her forehead, because I can’t not breathe her in. This thread between us feels finite, in this moment, like anything could snap it. I long for her, yearn to do this for a long time to come. Does her being scared of that mean … she doesn’t want it, too? Either way, I have to own my feelings now. They’re out there, and I’ve held myself back from what I wanted for a very long time. It’s within arm’s reach, and I’d be an idiot to let it go now.

“I know I said that we could just … hang out. But, come on, Ryan. I think we both knew from the moment we said that, that it wouldn’t be true. It might seem fast, or too much this early in the grand scheme of whatever we’re doing together, but I don’t care anymore. I’ve felt something for you since the moment you walked into that rehearsal dinner for Presley and Keaton. You infected me, you got straight down into my marrow. The instant buzz that started between us, it’s a once in a blue moon thing. I’ve never felt the way I feel about you about anyone, that’s just a fact. You’re the first person I think about when I wake up, and you pop into my head a million times a day. When I’m with you, I forget about all the bad shit I’ve done, I forget the doubt that tells me I’ll never be the man I’m trying to be. Because for you, I want to be him. So yes, I want you to stay with me. I don’t ever want to let you go.”

“I’m scared,” she says it again. The only two words in response to my quiet declaration in the darkness of our tent.

“Why?” My voice is a whisper.

“Because I feel it, too.”

Her short confirmation is all I need, a big, verbose confession to match mine isn’t necessary.

Without wasting another second, I kick out of my sleeping bag and make for hers, unzipping the side and making her giggle as I struggle to climb in next to her.

She stops laughing, though, when I cover her mouth in a gentle, deep, endless kiss.

We make love in slow, tender strokes, using the other’s mouth to silence the sounds from carrying past the paper-thin tent walls.

29

Fletcher

The summer ends in a flurry of squirreling away days in the sun, after-dinner ice cream trips and hoarding every possible second I can spend with Ryan.

September rushes by as well, the kids go back to school; I bury myself in the clock tower project, and Ryan gets hired as a computer aide in the middle school. The job is temporary, and it makes me wonder if that means she is as well, but I don’t push the issue.

We’re all but living together, with her going back to the guest cottage every few days for clean underwear. And … it’s settled into a nice routine. She teaches three days a week, while I work my day job. I was promoted to manager at the grocery store and had a few more projects come in, so I can afford to take her out on the weekends. Probably nowhere near as fancy as she’s used to in New York, but she