Page 84 of Forever Wild

I feel no hesitation at the answer, even giving it to my perpetually single best friend. I want to spend forever with Bryn. She may be as snarky and nomadic as they come, but she’s also fierce and smart and makes my heart feel like it’s finally home.

“Yeah. I’m not saying I’m ready to propose or anything, but yeah. There is no doubt in my mind that Bryn is my forever. She’s my endgame. Now, I just need to convince her.”

Chapter forty-three

Bryn

“I hate hiking. I can’t believe this is what you decided to do. We could’ve gone and gotten ice cream. Everyone knows this is the ideal ice cream situation,” Izzy says, pulling out her water bottle for a drink now that she’s caught up with us.

Kelsey is mumbling at her phone as she holds it over her head, searching for a signal she hasn’t been able to find for the last three hours.

“Do you have service, Iz?” Kelsey asks, ignoring Izzy’s displeasure.

Digging into her pocket, Izzy pulls out her phone and checks it. “Nope. I don’t think I’ve had it the entire time we’ve been on this trail. Another point in the ice cream column, if you ask me.” She plops down on the bench, ready to take a break of her own. Kelsey and I both share a look, ready to get back on the trail, but we’ve heard Izzy rant enough times about how, as the slowest hiker, she shouldn’t be the one who is forced to skip a break. We can either walk slower with her or take longer breaks. We’ve opted for the longer breaks.

Here’s the thing. When I was fourteen, Izzy was sixteen, and Kelsey was eighteen, I would’ve traded my sisters for just about anyone or anything. Three teenage girls in a household meant a constant roller coaster of emotions and hormones, with recurrent battles involving stolen clothes and psychological manipulation. Kelsey has never been too forthcoming about if she had to undergo torture training in the Marines, but I firmly believe she would’ve been the top of her class, based on the shit we put each other through growing up.

Now that we are older, though, my sisters are my best friends. I genuinely like them, and we have the added bonus of having so much in common. Weird cousin is up to his shenanigans? My sisters know all the players in the story and can dissect it with me. My boss at work is up to her shit again? My sisters have been living through the saga with me. Ran into the boy I kissed in high school? My sisters can update me on not only his life but those of his siblings and his parents.

They get me.

Which is why I am now sitting on a rock, halfway through a seven-mile hike. Kelsey and I end up hiking in the mountains quite a bit, but Iz has never developed a love for it. The fact that she is here is actually a testament to how much she loves me.

After Lila responded following her night class and was unable to explain why her brother had gone radio silent on me, Izzy suggested at the unreasonable hour of three in the morning that we drive down to Arizona and ask him ourselves. I protested, saying if he didn’t want to see me, I wasn’t going to chase after him. Plus, it was three in the morning, so why were we even awake to talk about this? Kelsey jumped in to point out that, even if all I wanted to do was break up with him, I still needed to talk to him to do that.

I tried to argue, but the look on both their faces made it quite clear this wasn’t an argument I was going to win. Becca had a meeting she couldn’t miss the next day, but the Harper sisters had poured coffee down our throats and jumped in the car.

After driving for twelve hours, we passed out in our hotel room before waking up to watch Jameson’s last few holes. It wasn’t until we watched him walk off the course that I realized we had no idea where he was staying. No way of finding him now that we were here. I had scrambled, yelling at my sisters that we needed to get in the car right then, but Kelsey had pointed out how futile it would be—he would be gone by the time we could drive out to the course.

Despite not seeing him, I know Jameson has seen the article. If playing his worst round in months wasn’t indication enough, the dark circles standing out prominently against his wan skin on the television screen certainly suggest he’s seen the article and is not okay.

Despite my sisters trying to remain positive, my mind continued to wander, flipping between possible conversations I could have with Jameson and ones I’d already had with Peter. I thought focusing on my work would allow me to be successful. Now I’m being punished for focusing too much on it. For being too good at what I do.

So we went hiking.

“Time to turn around?” Iz asks, screwing the lid back on her water bottle.

Kelsey looks at me, but all I can muster is a shrug. “Sure.”

As we start back down the brown, dusty trail, Kelsey takes the lead, navigating through the desert landscape awash in hues of brown and green. As I follow the path, reminding myself to go around the boulders and sagebrush, Iz slings her arm through mine, laying her head on my shoulder briefly. “What are you going to say to him when we find him?”

“I think at this point we have to accept it’s an if we find him, not when.”

“Nah,” she says, letting go of my arm to make her way around a suitcase-sized rock in the middle of the trail. “We’ll find him. All else fails, we can always stake out the tournament tomorrow.”

“If he doesn’t drop out. He played like shit today. It’s possible he won’t be playing tomorrow.”

“Then we will find him at his place at the club,” Izzy responds, her confidence starting to annoy me.

“Why would he go back to Wild Bluffs?” I ask. “He rented there to be close to me, something he clearly doesn’t want to be anymore.”

Iz shrugs. “He came to Wild Bluffs before he even knew you existed. Sometimes, the wide-open spaces are what we need to settle ourselves. To see the full picture of our life and realize where we want to go.”

“Maybe I should’ve stayed home, then,” I respond. “I could use some clarity about what to do.”

And I could. I know I’m not a good fit for Jameson. I know he deserves someone better than me. And, fuck, I also deserve more than someone who goes this long without reaching out. Without making sure I’m okay after that article was released.

Even as I think it, my heart tightens in protest. I know Jameson didn’t ghost me. I may not be right for him, but he’s a good guy. He wouldn’t do this.

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