Page 118 of Every Beautiful Mile

“I love it here. I’m always alone—best spot to clear my head,” he says as he unties a boot by the edge of the water and pulls it off.

My eyes narrow as I watch him.

“What are you doing?”

“What does it look like I’m doing?”

He slips off his other boot and works to unbuckle his belt before pushing his jeans down his legs.

My mouth drops.

“You’re swimming?”

I look around, like maybe I missed something. Like a pool. And bathing suits.

He peels off his socks.

Then shirt.

Then briefs.

When he stands in front of me wearing only a cocky smile, my heart stutters.

“We’re swimming. Strip,” he says, making a quick swiping motion with his index finger through the air.

I shake my head. “You’ve lost your mind. I’m not swimming! This is a public trail, Ethan. Anyone could walk up! And God, we’re adults—adults don’t swim naked in lakes. I have kids!” I sound as panicked as I feel.

“I’m an adult, and I’m swimming naked in a lake. And in case you haven’t noticed, your kids aren’t here.”

As nonchalantly as he says the words, he walks toward the water, the muscles of his bare back flexing with every step.

I can’t do this.

Can I do this?

When he’s up to his shoulders in the water, he turns to look at me—still fully clothed on the shore.

“What are you waiting for, Penelope?” His echoed voice is a taunt across the flat water.

What am I waiting for?

Maybe it’s the way he looks naked in that lake, or maybe it’s because it feels daring and scandalous, but I do it. I do it without thinking or trying to talk myself out of it. I kick my boots off, shed my clothes, and laugh wildly as I run into the water with a splash.

Naked.

I’m forty-one and skinny dipping, and I’ve never felt so ridiculous or alive.

I swim out to him. He lifts me up, and my legs wrap around him and his nakedness. Then, in a lake in the middle of nowhere in Maine, he kisses me.

If I weren’t leaving in days and a mile wasn’t so far, I might think I’ve just fallen in love with him. I might think for the first time since Travis died, this is the happiest I’ve been. As fast as the thoughts invade me, I push them away. Because I know love takes longer than weeks to happen, and a mile really is far, especially when there are nearly two thousand of them linked together.

Even when the hikers he promised me would never come walk by and obscenely catcall us, we stay in that lake. We swim until our fingers wrinkle and our stomachs growl.

It’s one of the best days of my life.

***

On the second to last morning, before Marin and Finn are back, I watch Ethan sleep and study how the warm light reflects off hidden strands of silver in his hair. I watch him for so long my eyes start to burn.

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