Page 38 of You, with a View

He was remembering me. He was remembering us, whatever us there used to be. What does itmean? There’s nothing Ihate more than a question unanswered, especially when I can’t ask it.

I’m itchy and restless. Theo tosses me no less than forty irritated looks, though he stays contained in brooding silence. Paul is the MVP, wrapping me up in conversation until we pull up to our hulking cabin-style hotel in Groveland, forty minutes outside Yosemite Valley.

We check in and eat a quick dinner at the hotel’s restaurant. By the time we’re done, it’s nearing nine and Paul’s energy level has nosedived.

“I hate to cut the night short,” he says as we exit the elevator on the third floor. “I’m not used to keeping up with you kids.”

Theo has his hand on Paul’s shoulder, guiding him down the hall. “It’s fine, we have to get up early tomorrow anyway.”

I’ve already set my alarm for six; we have to be out the door by quarter to seven to beat the crowds.

But after we say good night in front of our adjacent rooms, restless energy beats through me. I sit listening to the silence on the other end of the wall, staring at the camera bag with my freshly cleaned equipment, and think about the way Theo looks at me sometimes. The way his voice dips low. That crooked smirk.

At ten I give up and dig through my suitcase for my bathing suit. I only brought one, a high-waisted bikini I bought for a girls’ trip to Costa Rica years ago. It’s black, simple, a little sporty but shows a lot of ass, which is objectively my best feature. In hindsight, a one-piece may have been more appropriate, but I like my body in this suit.

Would Theo?

“No,” I demand, glaring at myself in the full-length mirror. The gleam in mirror-me’s brown eyes is defiant.

God. I can’t even agree with myself. Maybe a dip in the hot tub will steam my brain cells into submission. Or kill some off.

Once I’m dressed, I slip on a robe and make my way down to the pool. The posted hours say it closed at ten, but the gate is propped open, so I slip inside.

Aside from the hum of conversation from the restaurant patio, it’s quiet. At my feet, the hot tub bubbles, steam hissing into the cool night air. Above, the sky stretches into forever and nothing, an infinite number of stars shaken across it.

I yank at the knotted belt of the robe, but a voice nearby stops me.

“—push me out.”

I freeze. That sounded like Theo.

“I know, Matias, but you—”

Again, the voice stops, clearly frustrated. It’s definitely Theo; even angry—or, god, maybe especially that way—the timbre of it sings through my body.

“I’ve got my dad up my ass right now, I don’t need you there, too. I told you this morning, I’m unavailable for the next two weeks,” he says, low and tight. He sounds closer now, but I still don’t see him. “You and Anton agreed to that—” Another pause, then a laugh. It sounds dead. “Yeah, I know what’s going to happen, and that’s exactly why I don’t give a shit about the timing of this trip. I’m having my attorney look at everything, too. There’s nothing else we can do right now, so let me do this. No more fucking calls, okay?”

There are footsteps now, incredibly close. I scramble to unknot my robe, my heart racing, but Theo rounds the corner just as it falls to the ground.

When he catches sight of me, he stops so suddenly that it lookslike he ran into an invisible wall. He doesn’t say anything, and I can’t. I’m standing here with my ass hanging out, feeling naked in every sense of the word as his eyes sweep over me.

It’s confirmed: he likes my body in this bikini. And my body loves that.

“Eavesdropping?” he asks finally, that tightness still in his voice.

“Keeping secrets?” I shoot back.

He’s so tense. Even ten feet away, in the darkness and with a gate separating us, it’s radiating off him. His shoulders are tight, his hand clenched around his phone like he’s seconds away from throwing it.

Theo’s life has always seemed perfect from far away. But I’m close enough now to see the cracks.

He pushes through the gate, slipping his phone into his pocket. His eyes run over me quickly and he swallows, then looks away.

“I had to check in with work,” he says. His gaze flickers back to my face, dropping lower briefly. It’s like the steam brushing against my skin: hot, but too insubstantial to really feel.

A cold shower would be ideal, but the hot tub will have to do. I slip into the water, letting out a sigh as it engulfs me. Theo watches from the edge, his hands in his pockets, the lights from the hot tub dancing across his face. It could just be the way it’s distorting his features, but for a second he looks... devastated.

I remember the days I’d run to Gram’s house after a terrible breakup or a professional heartache. There was something cathartic in knowing she’d open the door and instantly recognize I needed to talk. That I needed to shed a secret, or two, or ten.

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