A whole month without George. I thought I missed him before, but now I feel like I might not be able to breathe at the thought of parting so soon. This thing between us feels delicate—something we should tend carefully until it grows strong.
“You could come with me,” George says. He makes the offercautiously, like he’s not sure if it’s too much, too soon. “Or come for a visit while I’m there. I’m bouncing around a bit, but I have two weeks in the Yucatán Peninsula, where I’ll have a home base and a kitchen.”
My mind thrills at the idea. I could stay for a week. Even longer.
“I want to,” I tell him. As soon as I say it, I can see he’d been holding his breath. I feel him slacken beneath me. A smile creeps across his lips.
“I want to be where you are right now,” I tell him. “Being together, it feels so…”
“Important?” George supplies, his fingers running up and down my spine. I realize the storm has eased.
“I was going to saynecessary.”
His eyes hold mine. “That’s a much better word.”
We’re in a precious in-between space, that bridge between who we were and who we’ll become. Our past on one side; our future on the other. I don’t want to rush this moment, this slice of time that will carve our lives in half.
“I don’t want to leave this bed,” I tell him.
“I’m afraid we have to sooner or later.”
“Later,” I say, pressing my lips to his. It’s a soft kiss, but I feel George grow hard. “Or never.”
His fingers wind in my hair, holding me as his tongue searches my mouth. It’s an urgent kiss, a kiss that’s laced with desperation. I feel it, too. The need to claim George as my own.
But he breaks us apart with a frustrated growl and climbs out of bed, hauling me with him. “Now.”
He kisses me again, then he looks me in the eyes in a waythat makes me feel like prey. “Later, you’re going to tell me everything you want me to do to you, and I’m going to excel at all of it.” I whimper as he brings his lips to my ears. “I’m going to treat you so fucking well, you’ll hate me for not doing it sooner.”
Chapter Forty-two
We wander around Tofino, popping into shops selling crystals, seventy-dollar beach towels, and black-and-white photographs of moody coastlines. The sky is still dark, but the sun bursts from the clouds in golden rays. A rainbow bends over the harbor. Out of the cocoon of our bedroom, I feel foolishly happy.
George is determined to stick to The Plan. When he told me today’s theme is expansion, I laughed so suddenly, a piece of muffin got lodged in my throat. He looked at me, confused.
“I think we’ve both done our share of expanding this morning, don’t you?” I asked, and he was silent. Now I have a new appreciation for making George tongue-tied.
I buy a crop top with a screen print of a woman on a board across the chest at Surf Sister and wear it out of the store. I buy George and me each neon-orange Surf Tofino toques.
“Now we look like pros,” George says as I pull it over his head.
“Yep. This is who I am now,” I tell him. “I follow the tides around the world, with no one to answer to except the waves and the wind.”
“And you live off of…?”
“Sun, salt, and hand-painted pieces of driftwood I’ll sell at farmers markets.”
“No cooking? No recipe development?”
I squint an eye, looking at the mountains. “Maybe I’ll work on a cookbook on the side. Recipesinspiredby my travels.”
“Sounds like the dream. Are you open to having a travel buddy?”
“Hmm…You never brought me on any of your adventures around the world,” I tease.
George stops walking and turns to me. “I don’t think I realized how much it bothered you.”
“I hid it well. When you told me you were moving out of our apartment after you graduated, I almost had a panic attack.”
