“That was not begging. You were the one begging last night, when?—”
“Are we jumping or not?” I interrupt. Because if he startsdescribing last night, I’m going to wind up kissing him, and there’s a good chance we’ll end up having sex in the grass instead of swimming.
“We’re jumping. We’re jumping.”
Sawyer grabs my hand. And we leap, plummeting from rock to water.
Falling.
Together.
58
Three Years Later
Midway through skimming an email, the phone screen lights up with an incoming call.
“Hey, man,” I greet, reclining in the small chair situated on the balcony.
“How is it?” Gus asks eagerly.
“It’s …” I glance around, struggling to summon the right adjective. “It’s wild. Literally. I feel like I’m on another planet. We’re kayaking around some glaciers later. I’ll send pics.”
Wren and I have traveled together before, but never just her and me. We went to Portugal with her parents two years ago. Visited her cousin Lili at an actualcastlein England last summer.
When Wren told me she’d booked a trip for us—her graduation present to me—I was excited. When she shared where we were headed, I genuinely thoughtshe was kidding.
Antarctica is not a destination that would have ever occurred to me, but it’s, without a doubt, the coolest place I’ve ever been. Literally. I zipped up my winter coat just to step out here, and the hand holding my phone is steadily growing numb, but also because of what I just told Gus. It feels entirely otherworldly, floating past boulders of ice, coated with a fresh layer of snow. The first I’ve seen since last winter. It’s October, so leaves are falling in Manhattan, not flakes.
I moved into Wren’s penthouse in May, right after I graduated from Lancaster, and am still adjusting to aspects of it. The view didn’t take any getting used to. Central Park was a green oasis in the summer. But I think I prefer it in autumn, the foliage a dazzling display of burnt orange and bright yellow. Not the eternally blue ocean, but nothing is.
Gus and I chat for a few more minutes, catching up on the past couple of weeks. We talk often, but haven’t seen each other in person since summer. Gus wound up in Boston after graduating college. He has one year left of business school there, but I’m guessing he and Lissa will stay in Massachusetts for longer. I’ll make amove to Manhattanpitch to him at Thanksgiving anyway. Oliver and Hannah are hosting the holiday at their Hamptons house and included my mom and her boyfriend, Derek—still getting used to that, but happy she’s happy—along with the entire Griffin clan.
The hiss of the sliding door opening captures my attention.
“I’ve gotta go.”
“Wren?” Gus guesses.
“Can’t tell for sure.”
He laughs. “What?”
“I’ll send some pics,” I promise, then hang up. Grin. “You should bundle up more. I can still see your eyes.”
The wool scarf lowers, revealing Wren’s scowl. “How are you notcold? All you’re wearing is a jacket!”
“And a hat.” I slip my phone into a pocket and tug the beanie down so it covers more of my ears. “My hands are a little chilly.”
She walks to the railing, glancing around at the surrounding sea before turning and taking a seat on my lap. I hug her tight to my chest, resting my chin next to the pom-pom attached to the top of her hat, then slip my hands into her jacket pockets.
Wren yelps as my frozen fingers brush her warm ones. “Where are your gloves?”
“No idea,” I admit. “I was looking before I came out here, then gave up.”
She shivers. “Why did you come out here?”
“The view. Also, I was checking some emails.”
