Page 92 of Every Thought Taken

I don’t need Ales’s approval when it comes to who I love. Love isn’t a debatable emotion family or friends get a say in. Love is personal. Distinct. Indisputable. Love is honest and humbling as well as tragic and destructive. It’s the one emotion to deliver the highest of highs and lowest of lows, both of which I experienced with Helena. I may not need my sister’s consent for who I love, but I more than appreciate having her on my side.

“Right back at ya.” I pull her in for another quick hug. “Better get going.” The trip out of town isn’t long, but I do want us situated and comfortable hours before nightfall. And I suspect the cat will need more adjusting than Helena.

“Be safe.” She ruffles my hair. “And bring my friend back in one piece. It’s been a while since we’ve been outdoorsy.” Ales’s whimsical laughter filters through the air.

Sliding the side door closed, I round the front of the van for the driver’s side door. “Noted. Love you, Ales.”

Stepping back to lean against the stair rails leading to her apartment, she lifts a hand to wave. “Love you more.”

Throwing the gear in reverse, I back out of the space then aim my tires up the alleyway. With Ales in my rearview, I focus on moving forward. Toward the one person that brought me back to Lake Lavender. Toward my North.

CHAPTER51

HELENA

To my complete surprise, Smoky enjoys car rides. Within fifteen minutes, she leaped from my lap and began investigating every nook and cranny of the van. Now, she is a curled ball of fluff sleeping on one of the bed pillows.

As for me, I am borderline nauseous every time Anderson takes his eyes off the road to look at me for three hour-long seconds. It’s nothimthat has me twisted in knots. It’s my damn mind working overtime.

What the hell was I thinking saying yes to this trip?

A half dozen times, Anderson has assured me this weeklong rendezvous is nothing more than casual. Just two friends getting reacquainted after years apart.

Thing is, the last time Anderson and I existed in the same bubble, we were more than friends. The term ex didn’t sit well with me during senior year, so I never regarded Anderson in that light. But hindsight is a slap to the face and I see reality for what it is now.

Our transition was gradual from friends to best friends to lovers. What we had, the love we shared, took years to build. It was unhurried and irresistible. Unequivocal and magnificent. We fell into one another, handed over our hearts, and forgot about the world.

Then, the world came knocking with iron fists. We’d been torn apart. And while he fought to keep us together, in some way, in any way, I thickened the wedge between us.

By the time I stepped up to right my wrongs, it’d been too late.

Now, by some chance miracle, I have an opportunity to correct my mistakes. In my heart, I know Anderson has no romantic expectations for this week. Neither do I. But before we drive back to town, I do want to clear the air. Tell him where my head and heart are in regard to him.

My gaze falls to my lap as I press my thumb and middle finger to either side of the ring on my finger. Back and forth, I twist the ring. Without looking up, Ifeelhis eyes on me, heating my skin. I absorb that heat and take a deep breath.

My phone buzzes in my back pocket, and without looking, I know it is one of my parents. Dad messaged me in our family group chat last night, asking what I wanted to do for my birthday. Since it was late, I pushed off answering until this morning. My reply had been simple.

Helena

I’ll be out of town until Saturday. Let’s do something when I’m back.

Guilt gnaws at me for not going into further detail. Every time my phone buzzes, the guilt grows a little thicker in my veins.

But I need this time away. I need this time with Anderson. And he needs it too.

One week.It will either break us further or heal our scars. I pray for the latter.

More than two hundred miles and a quick stop for deli sandwiches later, Anderson steers the van into North Cascades National Park. Lush, skyscraper-tall evergreens and dense grasses line either side of the highway. Snow-capped indigo mountains fill the foreground. Fluffy white clouds dot the powder-blue sky.

Rolling down the window, goose bumps dance over my skin. I inhale the brisk, piney air and sag deeper into the seat. Extending my arm out the window, I weave my fingers through the wind. Let my mind wander as I truly forgo every stressor and responsibility I deal with in day-to-day life.

For the first time in nearly six years, vacation and relaxation are priority number one.

“God, I miss this.”

His stare warms my profile, much longer than the previous one during our drive. And the second his eyes are back on the road, I miss the heat of his attention. “Nothing beats days in the middle of nowhere.”

“Getting lost on purpose.” I smile.

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