The Rivals - Dylan Allen Page 0,348

remember what we were talking about.

“Is what over?” I ask and slap his arm when he bursts out laughing.

“That’s flattering as hell, Regan…and makes me wish we weren’t talking about your marriage.”

That sobers me up and I sigh. “Oh yes, it’s over. In every way, but on paper.”

“You guys don’t have …” His inability to say sex after all the dirty things he’s said to me in the last few days is endearing. Just like everything else about him is.

“No, we don’t have sex. And haven’t since before I had the twins.” I finish his sentence for him.

“He’s crazy.” Stone’s voice is full of bewilderment

“Not really. Marriage, family -- it’s not for everyone, as you know.” My laugh is hollow, and I don’t want to give him the chance to agree or ask me anything else about it. So, I change the subject.

“So, you went to Colombia to find yourself?”

“Yes and no. I used to think I could save the world,”

“And now?”

“Turns out the world is saving me. Traveling has taught me more than any classroom I’ve ever been in. And I’m having the time of my life in Colombia.” The smile that lights his face makes me a bit envious. There’s so much I haven’t seen.

‘What’s it like?” I ask, hungry for details that I can use to paint a picture of it for myself.

“It’s like everywhere else on earth - families, single people, old people, public parks and traffic. But it’s got this… tenacious spirit.” His hand clenches into a fist. “There is so much misery everywhere and yet, they hold on to every scrap of joy, make use of every resource and take such pride in their town’s history. It’s turned me into an optimist.”

I huff an amazed laugh. “I’m so used to hedging my bets, so stuck on cynical, I can’t imagine that.”

He nods, a pensive light in his eyes as he gazes out at the river. “I get that. It’s safer to not expect anything. But then I see the hope on the faces of the women who come through our clinic. Their lives are incredibly hard. Poverty, political unrest, lack of food security, disease, you name it. And yet their aspirations for their children are unmitigated. It’s hard to look at them and not feel like anything is possible.” His eyes blaze with passion and fondness.

My heart blazes with affection and respect. His empathy and his conviction inspire me.

“Will you be sad to leave?”

“Yeah, especially for the flat, endless sea of suburbia also known as Houston, TX.”

“What?” I sputter, incredulous that anyone could feel that way. “The only true thing in that sentence is flat. Are you kidding? Houston is America’s melting pot.”

His shrug is noncommittal. “It’s fine, but I haven’t lived there in a long time and when I did, I didn’t exactly get to enjoy it.”

“Maybe it’s because I call it home. Besides my time at SMU and the five years we lived in Paris, it’s the only place I’ve spent any decent amount of time. But I think it’s an amazing place to live. When you’re back, I’ll show you all the things you missed on your first stint.”

His smile dims a little and I could smack myself.

“Don’t worry, I haven’t forgotten what we agreed, I just…” I trail off not sure how to explain myself.

His expression loses all its levity and he takes my left hand in his. He strokes my bare ring finger. “I know you haven’t, but this is…nice. We could be… friends, right?” his eyes bore into mine. I don’t know what to say, and I can’t hold his gaze.

How could I pretend that he’s as much of a stranger as his brothers are? But how could I do anything else?

He lets go of my hand and the first uncomfortable silence I can recall us ever sharing, descends.

“Okay, it’s time to paddle back to the beach,” our guide calls. It’s a welcome interruption and neither one of us tries to prolong the moment. We clean up and get ready without any of our normal banter.

When we’re back on the paddle boards, we wade out, side by side.

“You’re a natural at this,” he says, his tone free of the tension that seemed to rattle us both a few minutes ago.

I’m relieved and flash him a grin. “I can’t believe it. I was so sure I’d fall off. But I’m afraid to look away,” I admit completely amazed at how easy it’s been to stay upright.

“Say cheese,” he calls.

“What?”