Page 80 of Hate You, Maybe
“Oh, that.” I shrug over the ache in my heart. “Definitely epic.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Dex
I kissed Sayla Kroft.
And Sayla Kroft kissed me.
Then she admitted she’d been wanting this for a long time, too.
Too.
In that moment, every thought I’d been hiding in my brain became words leaking into Sayla’s mouth. I was helpless against the tide. I didn’t even want the waves to end. Then her mom called, and everything shifted. No more tide. No more waves.
And now, according to Sayla, we’re just supposed to go back to Stony Peak and get on with our lives as if nothing happened here. But something happened here.
When we showed up to Camp Reboot, Sayla thought of me as the enemy. She’d dug a boundary between us that was roughly the size of the Grand Canyon. And we leaped over it last night.
Then Sayla said stop.
So we stopped.
As much as I trustmyselfnot to cross any lines, I wanted her to know she could trust me, too. I’d never amp up the pressure or take advantage of our shared cabin. That’s not the man I am. So we crawled into bed—our own separate beds—and slept.
Unlike the previous night, I actually did sleep. For hours. Like the dead. The fatigue must’ve finally caught up with me—from all the yoga and the breathing. Some rock climbing and trust falls. An obstacle course after the ropes, then a scavenger hunt, plus a trail hike. The trivia and karaoke. More yoga.
It’s been a journey.
What’s worn me out more deeply, though, all the way to my core, are these feelings I’m growing for Sayla. Not to mention the surge of fear that almost took me down when I thought she was missing.Thatshould’ve been the first clue I’m losing control of my emotions. Luckily, Sayla got so distracted by her mom’s call, she never questioned my outsized reaction.
For that, I’m grateful.
Still, after only a few days of being around her all the time, I find myself wanting to dig below her surface. I’ve already opened up more to her than I have to any other woman. She’s seen my tattoos. I told her about Clarence. I can’t even fathomthatlapse in judgment. And then the panic I felt when I thought I’d lost her dragged me twenty years into the past.
I swore I’d never let myself endure something like that again. Loving anyone hard is a risk that comes with pain. Not loving hard is safer.
Simple as that.
Which is why pumping the brakes on whatever’s brewing between Sayla and me is probably the right thing. Responsible.I’ve got to regain some semblance of self-control. Once we leave here, we’ll be driving directly to Stony Peak. Wilford wants us to meet with the faculty to share our revised plans for the visitation. We’ll be diving right back into our old dynamic. Only in reversed roles. Getting a four-year approval from the accreditation committee has to be priority number one.
That alone will take all our focus.
So I rise at dawn and head to the porch to soak up a last moment of peace before we return to reality. On the seat of an Adirondack chair are a pair of manila folders. One’s got a few blank sheets of paper inside and a couple of stamped envelopes addressed to Camp Reboot. In the other folder, there’s a handwritten note from Bob and Hildy.
Dear Dexter and Sailor (HA HA! We still feel bad about that!)
Before reading any further, I peek back into the cabin to check on Sayla. A wild spray of blonde spreads over her pillow, but the rest of her is burrowed under the quilt. I feel a twinge of guilt, like reading their note without her is wrong. But it’s written to both of us, and she’s still asleep.
So yeah. I go ahead.
We just want to thank you both for coming to Camp Reboot this week. Our retreat can only be as good as the guests who show up, and you two sure made the most of our agenda and activities. We saw a lot of effort and growth from both of you in a short period of time. More importantly, we hope you’ll keep growing together after you’re back home.
(Fern hopes so, too!)
Before you came here, your principal asked us to report back on which one of you should receive your school’s grant money. He suggested we base our decision on who we thought would be the better team player andwho might be the most flexible during what will certainly be a difficult project.
We talked about it (with Fern, too), and everyone agrees you’re both deserving.
