Page 72 of New River Gorge(ous)
I take in the empty gravel lot. “But where are the others?”
An old SUV and a newer truck pulling off the road drown out my question. Logan and Ben hop out of the older SUV, but the blue truck catches my attention.
I pause for a moment and then run to it.
Matt opens the door.
“Matt!” I shout and launch at my twin in a bear hug. “How did you end up here? What are you doing? Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?” I can’t help it, I’m speaking in twin.
Matt squeezes me back and then steps out of my embrace. “Melanie and I came down to visit and see how you’re doing.” He doesn’t speak in twin, and I’m upset about it for a moment, but then I turn and catch sight of Melanie, who stands shyly off to the side in a bright blue one-piece. “And this guy named Logan called us and asked us if we’d like to come rafting with you and your boy.”
“My boy?”
He nods. “His words, not mine.”
I catch Logan smiling bemusedly from beside Beck and Ben as he fills up a raft with an air pump. He hands the pump to Ben and hops over the partially inflated raft as Ben takes over.
“Did we surprise you?” he asks as he crosses the lot to me. “I’ve heard you hate them, but this seemed like a good one.”
“I don’t hate surprises. I just don’t prefer them,” I retort. “And yes, you did, and I’ll accept this surprise.”
“Good,” Logan says before he turns his blindingly white smile on Melanie. “Hey, I’m Logan. You ever been white water rafting before?”
“Twice,” Melanie replies, surprising me. Maybe my assumption she’s a shrinking violet was wrong.
“Awesome. This is going to be just for fun, and this isn’t a commercial run, so let’s do it.”
Ben and Beck pick up the inflated raft and carry it to the river bank. Beck jumps into the water and holds the raft steady as the water laps at his shins.
Ben returns to the old SUV and grabs helmets from the back seat before shouting, “Hey, everyone, come grab your helmets and PFDs.” He puts the helmet on the ground and directs the next part of his speech toward the water. “I’d rather not wear these, butsomeoneinsisted. Apparently brain injuries are an E.R. doctor’s nightmare.”
I have to laugh at Ben’s commentary, clearly meant for Beck.
Beck shouts back, “You’ll be thanking me when they save your life, man.”
“Don’t come at me with the helmet on a motorcycle garbage again,” Ben yells back before he lowers his voice and says to me, “Your boy used to be the wildest of us all. Now, he won’t even let us think about doing something dangerous without safety gear.”
My eyebrows hike up my forehead as I place my helmet on.
“Really?” I ask, glancing toward the water where Beck holds the raft patiently. I hold my orange life jacket by the straps. “He was wild?”
“Oh … the stories I could tell you.” He tips his head toward Beck. “But I think he’d rather tell you. Maybe you should ask him about the time we—”
“Are you coming, or am I just going to stand here all day holding onto this boat?” Beck yells.
Ben smirks at me before pulling a stack of brightly colored paddles out of the back seat and holding them up across his body like a drilling soldier. “Ask him about his college days, Brooke. I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised that our doctor Beckett Whistler isn’t the uptight man he seems to be.”
I take a moment to digest this news. What could Beck have been like as a college student, a teen, and a little boy? I don’t know a lot about his past, except that he was in a serious relationship with Addie, and then she left him at the altar. And his sister made him despise snakes. Somehow, the calm and reserved man in the water has my heart, and somehow, even though I don’t know all of his past, I know enough about the present to know he’s good. And enough about his friends that a wild streak makes perfect sense.
With nothing else to do to prepare for the trip, I follow Ben to the river. Logan is already there, helmet on his head, but the strap unbuckled at his chin. The jaunty way it sits atop his blond hair makes him look like a movie star in a WWII film. Beck’s helmet is secured under his chin, and Matt and Melanie stand on the rocks with their arms around each other’s waists, taking a selfie.
“Oh, this is perfect!” Melanie squeals as she clicks the button again, and again, and again, trying a different face with each shot. For the last one, she leans over and plants a kiss on Matt’s cheek.
I resist the urge to gag, but just barely. That’s my twin brother.
Matt’s eyes take in Melanie with such affection, I am immediately transported to a future at their wedding. In this vision, though, I don’t sit alone. In fact, I’m not even sitting. In my dream scenario, I’m dancing in the very strong arms of a certain Doctor Beckett Whistler. It’s not an unpleasant daydream.
“Everyone good?” Logan calls, pulling me from my daydreams. His demeanor is calm, but I sense that he’s ready, and maybe even a little excited about this. “Brooke, you good in the bow?”
