Page 20 of The Ex-cavenger Hunt

“Exactly,” I agree, finding comfort in the metaphor. “And right now, I feel . . . light. Free.”

“Good. You deserve that feeling.” His hand finds mine in the cooling sand, a simple gesture that sends warmth radiating up my arm. My heart skips a beat, and I wonder if he can feel the electricity crackling between us.

“Hey, Ethan?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks for being here with me. For helping me catch more than just waves today.” I squeeze his hand, trying to convey the depth of my gratitude.

“Anytime,” he says, squeezing my hand in return. “But let’s be honest, you caught those waves all on your own. I was just along for the ride.”

I laugh, the sound carried away by the breeze, and I realize that for the first time in a long time, I feel truly alive. “Maybe,” I concede with a smile.

Chapter Twelve

Ethan

“This isn’t supposed to be our next stop,” Lily complains, smoothing her dress. Her brow furrows as she takes in the unfamiliar surroundings, confusion etched on her face. “And where did you get this dress?”

“Zoe,” I respond, my tone casual, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world.

“Really, my sister sent it to you?” Lily’s eyes widen, her mouth falling open in disbelief.

She’s really not going to let this go, is she? It’s pretty simple. Lily has been talking about this artist she loves, James something. I searched and he’s having an exhibition today. I called Zoe asking if she could talk to Max’s shopper at Neiman Marcus. It was pretty simple, but it seems like Lily doesn’t want to accept the offer or she wants to complicate it.

I scoff, rolling my eyes. “Why does it matter?”

We’re darting through New York City in a cab, the city lights streaking past us. The energy of the city is electric, and I can feel it thrumming through my veins.

Lily turns to me, her eyes wide with excitement, a grin spreading across her face. “No, it doesn’t. I’ve been dreaming of seeing James’s work in person for so long. And now . . . I’m meeting him. This feels surreal.”

The moment the cab pulls up in front of the gallery, Lily practically leaps out of the car, her excitement palpable. She’s bouncing on the balls of her feet, her eyes sparkling with anticipation. I pay the cab driver, my hands moving on autopilot, because all I can focus on is Lily’s beautiful face. The way her smile lights up her entire being, the way her hair falls in soft waves around her shoulders.

As we enter the gallery, it's like stepping into a whole new world, one where art reigns supreme. The space is alive, practically buzzing with energy and bursting with color. Lily reaches for my hand, her fingers effortlessly lacing with mine. The warmth of her touch ignites a flurry of emotions within me, and it hits me that I've never been big on hand-holding or the whole dating scene. But with Lily, it's different. It feels natural, like this is exactly where I'm meant to be.

“Can you believe we’re actually here?” Lily looks up at me, her eyes shining with wonder. Her smile is so genuine, so full of joy, that it takes my breath away.

“You better believe it,” I say, my voice soft, almost reverent.

Lily’s fingers tighten around mine, and she leans into me, her body warm and soft against my side. “I know I’ve been complaining that we’re not moving fast enough to reach the other nine guys,” she confesses, her tone apologetic. “But I really appreciate you bringing me here.”

I look down at her, my heart swelling with an emotion I can’t quite name. “The important thing about this trip is that you discover everything about your past and find your future—this might be part of it, you know.”

Lily’s eyes meet mine, and for a moment, the world around us fades away. She rises on her tiptoes, her face inching closer to mine, and my breath catches in my throat. Her lips brush against my cheek, soft and fleeting, but the sensation lingers long after she pulls away. My skin tingles where her lips touched, and I fight the urge to reach up and touch the spot.

As we step inside, the sounds of chatty enthusiasts wrap around us like a warm embrace. The gallery is modern, all clean lines and stark white walls, but the artwork brings it to life. Servers weave through the crowd with trays of canapés, and a sleek wine bar sits in the corner.

The artwork is different, not what I’m used to. Forms and abstract shapes dance next to vivid landscapes that seem plucked from dreams. The colors are bold, the lines fluid, and I find myself drawn in, captivated by the sheer emotion on display.

“Look at this one.” Lily’s voice pitches high with enthusiasm as she points to a canvas swirled with indigo and gold, stars exploding across a midnight sky. “It’s like the universe is singing.”

I tilt my head, studying the painting, and I can almost hear the melody. “Is that what the universe sounds like?” I tease, but honestly, I get it. There’s something about the painting that pulls you in, wraps around your chest, and makes you feel infinite.

“Exactly like this,” she says, her voice suddenly soft, awestruck. Lily turns to me, her quirky, endearing smile in place, and for a second, I’m not looking at the painting anymore. I’m caught up in the galaxies of her eyes, the constellations I find there. My heart stutters in my chest, and I realize that I could spend a lifetime exploring the depths of her soul.

“Hey, Earth to Ethan.” She nudges my arm, pulling me back from the brink of being utterly lost in her orbit.

I blink, shaking my head to clear the haze. “Right, sorry. I was just thinking how these artists probably started out with ideas and a blank page.”

---