“Great idea.” He steps back from the swing, and I feel a breeze whoosh into the space between us.
I stand up, slip the too-short-anyway dress over my head, and kick my sneakers into the dirt near the base of the tree. Then I walk gingerly to the lake edge—over here by the swing, it’s a little rockier at first. I turn to see if Nate’s coming and watch as he pulls his T-shirt off. Then he’s clambering over the rocky part and jumps in before me.
“Hey, wait up.” I jump in too.
I dunk my head under, into that soothing cool darkness, and shoot forward, swimming fully submerged. When I come back up for air, I don’t see Nate. The nighttime is loud and alive with crickets and the quiet lapping of the waves. I tread water but realize I can stand out here. It’s shoulder-deep. I scan the surface, with the strangest sense that Nate’s just completely disappeared—or is about to sneak up on me. Instead, his head finally pops up, maybe thirty feet away. The moon glimmers on the lake, but I can’t make out his face from this far away. He pushes his wet, messy hair out of his face with both hands.
And I don’t know what it is that hits me painfully in that moment, right in the chest. Like seeing him fade into the darkness from across the water makes me realize how easy it would be for us to simply—drift away from each other. Even with our siblings joined in marriage, realistically, we inhabit two totally different worlds, and “just friends” as two adults with busy lives on opposite coastsdoesn’t hold much weight. When I’m back in LA, will I even be a thought in his mind anymore?
“You’re too far.” It’s a silly thing to say, but I’ve noticed that what comes out of my mouth when I’m with Nate tends to be more unfiltered than I’m used to.
“Miss me, huh?” he jokes, then dives back under.
Watching him swim directly toward me—a shadowy, muscular form cutting through the water—gives me an unexpected thrill. I never want him to not be swimming toward me.
I want to be your destination, I think.
Oh lord, Nikki.
He pops up now just a foot away. So close I could wrap my arms and legs around him, like I did that first night without even thinking. Like the pull between our bodies was automatic, destined.
“So…” he says quietly, and I can’t read his eyes.
“So,” I repeat.
He laughs softly. “After all that, the show wants you back, huh?” he asks.
LovedBy. I feel a thudding in my chest.
“So it would seem,” I say.
“That’s pretty wild.”
“I know.” I let out a breath, wondering if he’s disappointed. Hurt that I didn’t tell him.
“And you’re really willing to risk getting the shit kicked out of you—metaphorically, of course—once again?”
Is he upset by that? I can’t tell. There’s concern in his eyes, but is it protective concern, or something more?
“I was going to say something about it earlier today, but… I mean, I don’t know what to do. They need my answer before the week is out.”
“That’s insane.”
I shrug. “It’s the business.”
“It’s a huge decision though. It’ll upend your life all over again.”
“I mean, yes and no. I can’t say there’s much going on to upend right now. I’ve been…” I don’t know why the truth feels so close to the surface tonight—maybe it’s my birthday, or the fireflies and the rippling water and the moon, or the way Nate’s staring at me, with an intensity that seems different. Like maybe, maybe, he could be feeling the same way. “I’ve been lost for a while.” I feel my throat constrict as I admit these words. Feel the shame of not having my life all figured out yet. Not being on a clear path to something, not being settled down like I thought I’d be.
He comes closer. “You don’t seem lost to me.”
I give a shuddering, quiet laugh. “Yeah, well, I hide a lot.”
“Nikki,” he says, looking right into my eyes. Even in the darkness, up this close I can see into his, too—specks of green amid the blue, like miniature fireflies. “You don’t have to hide with me.”
His words make me shiver. Because what’s crazy is, I believe him.
He opens his mouth slightly, as if to say more, but closes it again.
