It’s because it’s been so long. Yeah, that’s it. It’s not Collie I’m affected by; it’s the touch of a woman in general.
A woman whoisn’tmy dead brother’s fiancé.
Fuck, I miss him. He’d be laughing his ass off if he were here with me. Planning all the ways we would make this trip as ridiculous as possible, and somehow get drunk off our asses, winding up in a ditch somewhere.
Never knew I’d crave something so careless. I have a sinking feeling he’s looking down on me with an entirely different opinion right now.
His brother, who abandoned the woman he promised to protect.
Those are feelings I need to start processing. Maybe with therapy. Maybe having tough conversations that provide closure. Or maybe here—in Wyoming.
I want to be careless. But I think I forgot how. Maybe that’s why something as simple as holding Collie’s hand feels risky. Like this trip is just getting started, and I haven’t even seen the half of what’s to come.
Folk music begins to play as Sheila takes the mic again. “Allow me to introduce you campers to the one and only Bert Bartholomew.” She points to the tall and lanky man with a fiddle beside her. “Bert, take it away.”
Bert nods, instructing us to chime in. “Sing along with me, lovebirds. The night has just begun.”
“Yeah, let’s dip,” Collie whispers, and thank the fucking stars we’re in agreement. I don’t need to hear Bert sing to know my ears will bleed. She drags me to follow as wehightail it out of here, not daring to find Dirty Dan’s disappointed stare from across the fire.
“I could use some of that sugar you got in those bags, lost girl. Feelin’ up for it?”
“Hell yes.” Collie jumps up and down. “You got the alcohol?”
I nod. “Plenty to last us the next week.”
“Fill me up.”
Tequila shoots from my lips as surprise overtakes me. “Jesus.”
Collie’s hand covers her mouth as the most feminine giggles escape her lips. “I guess that came out wrong.” She holds her disposable shot glass out to me. “Another shot, please.”
I fill up her cup. “Still can’t get over how direct you are. And I’ve met a lot of people in my life.”
Her head drops slightly, and I hate it. “You have no idea how many times I’ve heard that,” she tells me honestly.
I’d hate to make an unwarranted judgement of her, but it’s hard not to. She seems emotionally closed off, yet the most extroverted person I’ve ever met, all at the same time.
“Nothing wrong with it.”
Collie throws back her shot like a champ. “If only everyone thought that.”
“Fuck what anyone else thinks. Areyouhappy with who you are?”
She nods. “More than anything. I just hate that some ofthe people I love the most find the things I’m proud of a flaw. Or maybe an inconvenience is a better word.”
I can’t do anything but watch her. Watch this mysterious woman be vulnerable as she tells me her issues and the way they’re unfortunately portrayed to the people she cares about.
I can relate, and that’s exactly why she has my full attention.
That, and the fact that she looks so goddamn lethal right now. Running her hand through her bright blonde locks like it’s second nature, leaving her curls tousled and chaotic. But in a sexy way. She has on a hot pink sweatsuit, with a cream sherpa blanket wrapped around her for extra warmth.
She’s comfortable here, and it feels good to be the one she relaxes with.
We decided to leave the hatch open tonight and take advantage of Yellowstone at night. It’s peaceful.
With our legs hanging out of the van, I stand on impulse, needing to spare my restless fidgeting. This is the first time, other than when Ben passed, that I’ve been still.
I never take time off work and never just chill.
