Page 19 of One Hot Summer
I raked my fingers through my hair, pacing the bedroom. I tried to come up with a rationalization that didn’t make me sound like a lovesick idiot. “It was just sex,” I told my reflection. “A one-time thing. Get over it.” But I didn’t buy it, and neither did the hollow-eyed kid in the mirror.
A knock at the door nearly made me jump out of my skin. My heart started pounding so fast it made my ribs ache. I was about to answer when the door cracked open and Griffin stuck his head in. “Hey,” he said, his voice softer than usual. “You decent?”
“Uh, yeah,” I said, stepping back from the mirror.
He came in, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed. His hair was still damp from a shower, and he looked irritatingly put-together, as if he hadn’t just destroyed me twelve hours ago. I braced myself for the inevitable “We need to talk” talk.
“I was thinking,” he said, “if you’re up for it, maybe we could go for a drive today. Maybe check out Cades Cove? It’s always been a favorite of mine and Dalton’s, but I haven’t been in years.”
It took me a full three seconds to process what he was saying, that instead of brushing me off he actually wanted to spend more time with me. “Oh. Yeah, sure. That sounds… awesome.”
“Great.” He ran a hand through his hair, and I caught the faintest trace of a blush on his cheeks. “I’ll make some fresh coffee to take with us, if you want.”
I grinned, despite myself. “That sounds great. Thank you.”
His eyes flicked to the bite marks on my neck, then quickly away. “You okay?” he asked, quietly.
I nodded, heat flooding my face. “Yeah. I’m… yeah. Good.”
He seemed to relax. “Cool. Meet you downstairs in ten?”
“Sure.”
He closed the door, and I sagged against the bed, letting out a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding. Maybe I wasn’t the only one who didn’t want last night to be just a memory. I took a minute to breathe, then grabbed my sneakers and put them on. I shoved my phone in my back pocket and headed towards the door, ignoring the wide smile plastered across my face as I passed by the mirror.
The drive into the park was gorgeous and also about as awkward as you’d expect when you’ve had sex with your best friend’s dad and haven’t figured out how to talk about it. I spent the first ten minutes fiddling with the AC vents, my phone, the radio, anything to keep my hands busy. Griffin kept his eyes on the road, jaw clenched tight, not so much as glancing at me except to ask if the temperature was okay or if the seat needed adjusting.
We navigated winding roads, the forest a blur of new growth and summer sunlight. The silence in the car was so heavy I could feel it pressing down on my chest. I tried to think of something,anything, to break it, but everything I came up with sounded either too flippant or way too earnest.
Finally, as we rounded a bend and the valley opened up below, he cleared his throat. “You’re going to love Cade’s Cove. It was Dalton’s favorite place as a kid. We used to come up here every summer. He had one of those bug catching kits that came with the little magnifying glasses. He’d bring it with him and spend hours searching under every rock and fallen tree, trying to find the biggest and best bugs. One year he got stung by a yellow jacket and told the entire visitor center he was dying of ‘insect venom.’” Griffin glanced over at me and, for the first time since we left the cabin, smiled. “He wouldn’t stop crying until I promised to get him a milkshake.”
I laughed, the tension dissolving like sugar in coffee. “Sounds about right. He’s kind of a disaster, but in a good way.”
He nodded, his smile softening. “He’s a good kid.” His eyes darted to mine. “Not a kid. Sorry. I just meant?—”
I laughed. “I knew what you meant. I don’t have any firsthand experience with parents and their children, but it seems to me that no matter how old a person gets, they’re always their parent’s baby. Or at least that’s how it’s usually portrayed in books and movies.”
In a comforting move, he reached over and squeezed my hand. “I’m sorry you never had that.”
I waited for the familiar pain to make its presence known, the hollow ache I always experienced whenever I talked about my childhood, but it never came. Possibly because I was too preoccupied with the warmth of his hand which he had yet to pull away from my own.
We pulled off at a scenic overlook and stood shoulder to shoulder, taking in the view. The valley stretched out before us, a patchwork of green fields and dark forests. The mountains rose up in the distance, their peaks shrouded in mist, creatingthe smoky appearance for which they were named. It was breathtaking.
Griffin’s voice dropped, almost to a whisper. “When Dalton was seven, he decided he was going to be a park ranger. Practiced his ‘ranger voice’ every night. Drove us all crazy.”
I grinned. “What happened?”
“He discovered video games and realized park rangers don’t carry laser guns.” He nudged my arm gently with his elbow. “What about you, Adam? What did you want to be when you grew up?”
I hesitated. “A scientist, I guess. Or an engineer. Something where you get to figure out how the world works and then build it better.” I stole a glance at him, half expecting him to laugh. “I know it’s nerdy, but I always liked the idea that if you understood enough, you could fix anything.”
He didn’t laugh. “I think that’s admirable.”
I blushed, shoving my hands in my pockets. “Thanks.”
A family with two little kids tumbled out of the car next to us, and the spell was broken. Griffin reached into the back seat for a thermos and poured both of us coffee, passing me one of the travel mugs. Our fingers brushed and something electric zipped up my arm. He didn’t pull away, and neither did I.
Back on the road, the conversation stayed light. He told me stories about his friend and business partner, Collin, about the pranks they used to pull on each other when they started their firm. I asked questions, eager to hear more about his job and his life, to learn everything there was to know about this amazing man.
