Page 100 of You, with a View

“Somehow not as compelling.”

His grin turns wicked, but it drifts away as he cups my jaw, running his thumb over my bottom lip.

“I had a good time with you, Shepard,” he says.

What a wild understatement. This has been the best two weeks of my life. “It was okay.”

He laughs, aware that I’m full of shit. “I’ll expect to see a TikTok detailing all your favorite things about me before bedtime tonight.”

“No problem, it’ll be like five seconds lon—gah!” He grabs me around the waist with a growl, lifting me, and I let out a shriek that sends birds flying from their tree perches. “Fine! It’ll be a ten-parter, okay?”

“Two parts dedicated just to my massive—”

“Ego, yes.” I wind my arms around his neck, digging my fingers into his hair.

“Gonna be a menace to the end, huh?” Theo says softly, eyes warm and happy.

I lift an eyebrow, my heart suddenly pounding. “What end?”

Something flashes in his eyes—I swear it looks like fear—but then it’s gone, quick as a camera flash. He adjusts my position so our noses graze, then brushes his mouth over mine, keeping it soft and ending it just like that. A promise of something more.

“Bye, Noelle,” he whispers.

“See you, Theo,” I whisper back.

I watch him drive away, standing next to my suitcase. There’s nothing left to do but to go inside. Step back into my old life.

I can’t wait to make it brand-new.

Twenty-Eight

Almost immediately, the trip feels like it was a lifetime ago. The only tangible reminder I have is intense tan lines.

And Theo.

I show up at his doorstep early Saturday morning, both because I spent the night before tossing and turning in an otherwise empty bed and because I’m trying to formulate how to tell my parents what I’ve spent the last two weeks doing in a way that doesn’t sound completely unhinged.

I’m worried about telling Dad. Worried about how he’ll take Gram and Paul’s story, how he’ll take that I traveled with Paul and lied about it. I’m less worried about how he’ll take my actual relationship with Theo, but he’s such an integral part of the entire tangled web. Will he think less of him?

There wasn’t an opportunity to talk to my parents when they got home Friday night, at least not about anything serious. I met them out front as they poured out of an Uber. They showered me with enthusiastic greetings, and I recapped each of the stops I’dmade, showed them a small selection of photos I set aside as proof I’d been working, and mentioned the online shop I’d gotten up and running while I was away, as well as my upcoming trip to Tahoe. Mom’s excitement ratcheted up to a twelve at that news. Dad insisted he wanted to talk more when it wasn’t so late. I sent them to bed, relief and guilt warring in my mind.

I want to tell them everything. I need to. But I need time to figure out how to make it sound less like a secret.

When Theo opens his front door Saturday, though, his hair damp from a shower, he banishes every thought I have but one: I’m absolutely head over ass over head again falling for this man. It’s terrifying and thrilling. All my emotions have chasers.

He pulls me into his arms, his hand snaking down to cup my ass, and presses a quiet “I missed you” into my neck. The door closes behind me, and he pushes me against it, kissing me hard, with an edge of urgency I’ve felt since I left him. We don’t even make it upstairs.

We spend all weekend together, falling back on the same habits we picked up during our trip—middle-of-the-night movies that are interrupted by either sleep or sex, dancing around his back patio while dinner sizzles on the grill, and, of course, my covert recording of his sleep talk. He’s surprisingly restless, his words gibberish but emphatic, and several times I wake him up with soft kisses on his neck, a hand moving up and down his back to bring him out of whatever strange things he’s dreaming. He sighs, pulling me close, and I don’t sleep again until the tension leaves his body.

We do other normal life stuff, too, and that’s almost more exciting than anything else. I drag him to the farmers’ market on Saturday. He grumbles about it but buys me a bouquet of wildflowers when I’m not looking and indulges me stopping by every vendor for free samples. We go out to dinner, and he finally takes mefor a ride in his Bronco. He doesn’t let me drive it, but it’s only a matter of time. Even though I don’t get my hands on Betty’s stick shift, Theo makes it up to me when we park in an empty lot near Ocean Beach and I straddle his lap in the backseat.

Maybe all of this should feel mundane after the adventures we had, but it doesn’t. It feels likelife, one I could have and be proud of. One I’m actually having.

Sunday, I take Theo on a hike in Tennessee Valley, my favorite with Gram. I can tell it means something to him that I brought him here, and I talk about her all the way to our final destination—a coved beach at the end of the trail. We set up a blanket to eat lunch, and afterward I lay my head in his lap, looking out at the water while he absently runs his fingers through my hair.

“I promised Thomas and Sadie I’d have dinner with them tonight,” I say, watching a cloud shaped like a flat heart drift by. “Want to come?”

He eyes the water, his thumb moving over my temple. “Wish I could. I need to get ready for tomorrow.”

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