Sulli grips the backs of our seats and stares down at the driver’s cup holder. “How can I make a choice like that right now? I literally just kissed you both, and it’s not like I’ve been dating either of you.”
Banks assures her, “You don’t have to decide now.”
I add, “You’re not exclusive with either of us. We can just be casually pursuing you until you’re ready.” She still looks confused, so I scrounge for a metaphor. “Like you’re the Bachelorette, and we’re just two handsome dudes vying for your heart—but one of us is clearly better looking.” I touch my chest.
“You want Windex for those mirrors?” Banks asks, fitting a toothpick between his lips.
I end up smiling. “Only so you can see me better.”
Banks laughs, then tells Sulli, “One of us is clearly more humble.”
I nod once.
Sulli is lost in thought. Until she looks up. “So I just casually date you both like I’m the Bachelorette until I make a choice?”
“Right,” I say.
“What about the fantasy suites, Kits?”
I stiffen.
Banks frowns. “The what?” He’s never seen the dating show we’re discussing.
I explain, “It’s where the bachelor or bachelorette spends the night with the guys or girls they’re dating. I think it’s at like final three, and it’s implied they have sex.”
His brows spike. “The bachelor has sex with the last three women he’s dating? And they’re all okay with it?”
“Yeah, pretty much.”
Sulli is wide-eyed, her cheeks bright red. “Um…is that fucking happening or what are we…doing exactly?”
My chest tightens, and I rub my knuckles. “I think we should probably make a clear rule so no one gets hurt.” I take a beat. “No fantasy suites. No sex until you choose one of us.”
Banks nods. “I’m good with that.”
“Yeah, me too,” Sulli eases. “It’s less fucking complicated.”
Wisconsin farmland backdrops our drive. More fresh air whooshes into the car, rustling our hair and some loose gas receipts in the cup holder. Our set-decision should alleviate tension that’s been riding with us like a fourth passenger.
But my flippant bachelorette metaphor doesn’t mask the seriousness of what’s happening. What we’re embarking upon. A road where I’m in competition with my friend.
And one of us is going to be left heartbroken.
17
BANKS MORETTI
Sweet, sweet Montana. Alas, we’ve finally made it to Yellowstone Country.
Not that we see much in the dead of night. After parking Booger in a safe spot, we click on headlamps and hike to our backcountry campsite. A place much closer to the rock face Sulli plans to free-solo.
We set-up camp.
Working quietly, seamlessly—like the three of us have done this our whole lives together—we help each other pop up the teal tent, roll out the sleeping bags, and recheck our supplies. Through our exhaustion, we zip up the tent and start to pass out.
Three different sleeping bags. Enough room not to test any kind of waters. Too tired to even overthink how I’m not on an easy path to be with Sulli.
A miracle slams down to Earth to make that happen—because that’s all I’ve really been thinking about. How Akara and Sulli kissed. How I’m now competing for her affection against my best friend. Who also has history with Sulli that I don’t have.
He’s known her for what feels like forever.
How do I even compete with that?
And I knew a scenario where Akara and Sulli getting together could eventually come to pass, but fuck me that it had to happen less than 24-hours after I kissed her. Bad luck.
Bad at love. Throw out Roscoe, that should just be my middle name instead.
If I were smarter, maybe I’d just back off and let Akara jog easily into her heart, so I wouldn’t be here pulling her in another direction. But if chasing after Sullivan Meadows is the foolish thing to do, I’m gonna be the biggest fool this world has ever seen.
I’ve gotten this far. I’m not letting her go now. And whatever happens will happen.
Come what may.
It’s the thought I wake to.
Exiting the tent, I stretch my arms and yawn up at the morning sky. With the break of day, my surroundings aren’t just muddled in darkness.
So I look around while I rotate my sore shoulders. Spruce trees landscape lush, yellow-green grass, rolling into hills and valleys. Wildflowers grow near the bank of a lazy river. Which I heard trickling last night, but I thought it’d look more like a tiny stream.
I go still.
Three deer wander along the bank. Massive antlers crown the largest one. Head hoisting, beady eyes lie serene on me.