Page 126 of The Vacation Mix-Up
Mom set down the box and took a seat on the ledge beside me. “I’m not mad because I choose not to be. Life goes on, darling. It twists and turns, and we must twist and turn with it. If we don’t, we end up staying still, miserable and bitter.” She rubbed my leg. “Gary and I don’t want that for each other. We want to move on and be happy, and we can’t if we’re holding on to the negatives.”
I pulled my leg closer and hugged it to my chest. “It’s not fair.”
“It’s not a question of whether it’s fair. It’s about saying goodbye to what was and being brave enough to welcome what else may be.”
“Okay,”I say, my voice barely audible.
“Okay?”
I turn my head and search his face. “Let’s see where this leads. But we take this slow. Because I?—”
He kisses my temple, his delicious lips stealing my words. “As slow as you need.”
I roll onto my back,desperate to keep my eyes shut, memories of Riley and me cuddling on a lounge chair under the Northern Lights a dream I don’t want to wake up from. A dream that was reality.
Against my better judgement, I’d given in, helpless not to, and we kissed again, a kiss I could still feel to my core. We snuggled together in silence under the ethereal sky, and after neither of us could endure the bitter chill of the arctic air any longer, we returned to the cabin, kissed each other goodnight, and then fell asleep in our respective beds.
He never argued that request. Never pushed for more. And that only enforced his growing stronghold on my heart.
Sighing, I feel his lips on mine, a splendid recollection, until his tongue delicately grazes my teeth.
My eyes shoot open, my hands landing on his chest, shoving him back. “What?—”
“Morning, sweetheart.”
“What are you doing?” I shriek, blinking all the blinks.
“Continuing where we left off last night.” He leans forward again.
“No!” I hold him at bay and cover my mouth with my hand, mumbling, “I haven’t brushed my teeth yet.”
“I know.” He chuckles. “I could taste your morning breath.”
“Riley!”
Scooting back onto my elbows, I glare at him, my annoyance dissipating when he presents a steaming mug of coffee.
“I ordered room service for breakfast,” he says.
“Oh.” I sit up, pleasantly surprised as I take the mug from him and cradle it in my palms. “Thank you.”
“Did you sleep well?”
Eyeing him over the rim, I gently blow the steam before taking a welcoming sip. “I did.”
He comfortably lounges across my bed and props his head in his hand. “I mustn’t have snored.”
“How do you know that?”
He grins, all teeth, perfectly straight and pearlescent. “Because you didn’t use your AirPods.”
Reaching up to my ear, I feel their absence. “You’re right. I completely forgot to put them in.”
“That Aurora Borealis is some magical shit.”
Laughing, I can’t disagree. Last night was transcendental.
“Hurry up,” he says, bounding up from the bed before placing down a breakfast tray with eggs, bacon, and pancakes. “I need to buy us new swimsuits before we leave for the Blue Lagoon.”
