Page 23 of Only Ever You
He rolled his eyes. “Fine, Parker can have one.”
Casey giggled as she reached into the display case. When Hudson stepped away to go to the restroom while she made our coffees, she caught my eye. “So, I have one thing to say.”
“Uh, okaaay,” I said slowly.
“You be good to Luna. She told me she’s going on a hike with you and Fuzzy today.” Casey’s gaze bordered on stern.
I had so many questions, but there were customers in line behind me. “Of course, I’ll be good to Luna. Do I need to worry about what she’s saying about me?”
One of Casey’s brows arched up. “Maybe, maybe not. You only need to worry if you’re not good to her.” At that, she handed me my coffee.
“Okay, dude, you need to be on your best behavior.”
Fuzzy looked up at me with his soulful brown eyes. Whether he understood me or not, he butted his head gently against my knees. He bounded outside, leaping into the front of my truck a moment later, his tail swishing against the seat.
A short drive later, I parked in front of Luna’s house. The hum of anticipation was getting louder in my body. I had wondered about Luna, who I’d thought of as Jane, for years. That afternoon on the beach had almost seemed like a mirage afterwards, as if it hadn’t really happened.
I’d always hoped I’d see her again. When I didn’t for so many years, that afternoon felt like a blip. I hadn’t ever considered being serious with someone, then or now. Yet, I’d connected with her so easily that day. Afterwards, I’d talked myself out of it, convincing myself it had been a fluke, that my mind was playing tricks on me.
And yet now, I knew it hadn’t been a fluke. Although my mind wanted me to shy away, my heart wanted a chance with her. A real one.
Fuzzy recognized where we were and raced out of my truck with sheer excitement. His entire body was vibrating when we stood in front of Luna’s door. I glanced down, chuckling asI knocked. When Luna opened the door, Fuzzy immediately began circling her legs and letting out these little happy yips.
She knelt down to pet him. “Fuzzy!” she enthused.
He licked her face, turning in a tight circle in front of her. She glanced up at me. “I suppose I could greet you. Hello,” she offered.
“Priorities,” I teased. “I’m glad Fuzzy’s so happy to see you.”
A moment later, she straightened, glancing down at her shirt. “I’m covered in dog hair.”
“Welcome to my life,” I said dryly.
“Are you ready to go?” she asked.
“Fuzzy certainly is.” He was poised at the top of the steps to her porch, intently studying a squirrel climbing a tree.
Luna smiled. “I’m ready to go. Let me just grab my phone and my keys.”
A moment later, we were walking down the steps. “This way.” She gestured.
I followed her around the back of her house to the same path we’d taken the other day. “It’s nice you’re so close to this trail network,” I commented, idly spinning Fuzzy’s leash in a circle as we walked.
“I love it. I usually get out for a hike at least once a week. Have you seen that viewing spot that looks out over the valley? It’s a great place to watch the sunset or sunrise.”
Nodding, I replied, “It’s where I usually hike to with Fuzzy. So how did you luck into this place?”
“It’s my grandmother’s. She has a larger house nearby, and she used to rent this out. After I worked some in Juneau and finished my culinary program last year, she told me I could stay here. Sometimes I worry she’s losing out on the rent money. I pay rent even though she says I don’t have to.”
“It’s a nice little place.”
“It’s perfect for me,” Luna replied.
We fell quiet once the path from her house connected with the main trail. The main trail led to a network of smaller trails that all circled back. I unclipped Fuzzy’s leash. He liked to bound ahead and loop back and was good about staying nearby.
Walking through the trees reminded me of why I’d loved those hours with Luna that single afternoon a decade ago. It was simply comfortable to be with her. I didn’t feel the need to fill any quiet spaces. Perhaps the phrase “in companionable silence” was trite, but it was meaningful. Experiencing it felt like falling into a pocket of ease, a place I could stay forever.
The moment my mind formed the word “forever”, I shied away from it. Permanent wasn’t something I contemplated when it came to relationships. My life had taught me that forever wasn’t something that existed for me.
