Page 54 of Adrift

Hilton stifles a laugh and raises his camera again. “Well, thank goodness you didn’t, or we wouldn’t be here today.”

“Naturally.” I toss my hair and the shutter clicks again, making me laugh.

But it’s sort of true. I’ve worked miracles over the last couple of weeks. I’ve been making phone calls, sending out press releases, you name it… but this is all happening because of me.

Not because of what I know, butwhoI know.

The morning after our first date, I got to talking with Joseph, one of the oldest guys on Sunrise Island. He gave me a lead, which ended up with me going over to the mainland to read old newspapers on microfiche, and one thing led to another…

And now, here we are.

We’re visiting Faraway Orchards on Gabriola Island, just twenty minutes away from Sunrise Island by boat.

Hilton and I are in the barn where they produce all their cider, while Gage talks to the owner, Will, outside. With the window cracked open, I can just about make out their conversation about pests and pruning and specific gravity.

All I know is that I’m holding a glass of cider made from Gage’s apples. Well… close enough, anyway.

It turns out that when Will’s great-grandparents started Faraway Orchards, they spent two weeks planting trees and working around the orchard on Sunrise. In thanks—and to say welcome to the business—Gage’s great-grandparents gave them some trees.

Will was over the moon at the chance to return the favour. So Faraway Orchards is sponsoring the newly relaunched Sunrise Island Cider festival. Gage and Will seem certain that this stuff will be ready to drink by next week, in time for the festival.

It’s like it was meant to be.

“Do we have enough photos?” I ask Hilton, raising the glass to swirl around the cider.

“Just about. You’re a natural,” the photographer tells me. “Gage is a lucky man.”

I glance out the window, watching Gage waving his hands around as he talks about fruit tree grafts. I haven’t seen him get so passionate before, and it’s adorable.

“He is. And so am I.”

Click.

The noise startles me. As I glance at Hilton, he grins at me. “Got it. Wanna see?” When I nod, he strides over and turns the camera’s digital screen toward me, pressing a button to zoom in.

Oh.

Oh, fuck. I don’t think I’ve ever seen myself like this before. But the soft, focused look in my eyes as I gaze out of frame, the glass still held high… there’s only one word for it.

I look like I’m in love.

“Wow,” I mumble, my cheeks burning. “Yeah. That’s… that’s not bad. It’ll do.”

Hilton laughs as he turns the camera off, winding the strap around his arm. “It’s nice to see,” he says, leading me toward the barn door. “I got some good shots of you and Gage earlier, too. I don’t get to do a lot of photo shoots with couples who are so obviously in love.”

Then he pauses in the door, looking back at me. “Coming?”

I just stopped dead in my tracks, trying to take in what he just said.

“Yeah. Yeah, sorry.”

He’s right. We’ve both felt it, over and over, over the last few weeks. This thing that’s growing and settling into place between us is new, but it’s felt like the most gorgeously well-worn shape, too.

As I follow him outside, I can’t stop smiling.

Seeing that photo, it’s obvious. I still look like I’m beaming sunshine, but it’s not hiding a single thing. My face looks softer than I’ve ever seen it. And we haven’t even gotten any further in our precious few moments together. All we’ve been doing is touching each other—not even a single blowjob.

I’ve never moved so slowly in my life. But at the same time, there’s finally been space to discover all kinds of new things.

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