“Robin’s my ex-wife.”
I blink and my mouth drops open. “Whoa. I wasn’t expecting that.”
He laughs once, but it’s sort of brittle. “I’ll bet.”
“How long were you married?”
“A few years. In my mid-twenties. We were both young. Stupid. Just out of college. We didn’t really know each other that well. We didn’t really know ourselves that well.”
I nod because at this point, I don’t know what else to do. I’ve been blindsided and the mountain of history that is tumbling over me is making it difficult to breathe.
“So then one day about three years into our marriage, she takes off. No note. No nothing. Like she just decided she didn’t want to live that life anymore. A few months later, after searching for too long, I get divorce papers in the mail. Irene and George knew she’d disappeared. They hadn’t heard from her either. It was like she became a nomad or something. Eight months after, my first summer living by myself without Robin, Irene offers me the job at camp. I think it was her way of apologizing for her daughter’s mess.”
He takes my hand and laces his fingers through it. I can’t seem to hear anything. Robin was my ex-wife keeps zinging around my head, echoing louder than any of his other words.
“So she’s dying and wants to reconnect?”
He nods and squeezes my hand, then traces circles on my palm.
“Did you love her?” I ask and my voice sounds so tiny that I can’t imagine he sees me as anything other than a little girl with a crush.
“I thought I did. I don’t know. I was young. Love when you’re young looks different than when you’re older.”
It’s a slap in my face. I know it, but I’m too numb at this point to feel it. “Do you love her still?”
“No. Not since the day I signed those papers. Probably even before that.”
I release his hand and stand up on my ridiculous wedge sandals. He stares at me and every emotion is plastered on his face. For the first time ever, he’s an open book. I know what he wants, what he thinks he needs, but I can’t give it to him. It nearly guts me, but I know I have to leave. I can’t be his evening solace. I want more than that.
“Thanks for telling me. Thanks for letting me come tonight.” I move toward the door.
“Kay-Kay,” he calls out, and the longing in his voice almost stops me.
I turn to him and shrug. “I’m only nineteen. You’ve made your position clear. But I can’t be what you think you need tonight. I can be your friend. But I can’t be anything else. You think I don’t love in the same way you do? That I’m too young to understand? I love you so much I’m giving you exactly what you need right now. A night that you won’t wake up regretting.”
And with my heart sliced into tiny pieces and scattering at my feet, I walk out the door.
Chapter Nine
Three days. Seventy-two hours. Four thousand three hundred and twenty minutes. That’s how long it’s been since I left Alex. Since I said the L word then walked out. And now it’s Sunday and I have the entire day off. Sam and Jo have switched their days so they can go up to Bayswater for some festival I have no interest in seeing. So I’m on my own. I stare at my laundry bag in the back of the camp wagon heading to town. I have a whole day off and I’m doing laundry. I’ve reached a new low.
I slide into the passenger seat of the wagon and wait for whoever is dropping me off in town to show up. This is one of the only perks of being car-less at camp. Someone will drop you off and pick you up on your days and nights off. It’s a built in designated driver, and when Jo isn’t around to drive home from the Little Minnow, it’s sort of a godsend.
I prop my feet on the dash board and stare out the window. The door opposite me swings open.
“Buckle up.”
Alex. Of course. FML.
“You’re the driver? Since when? You hate driving counselors into town.”
He grins and a piece of my heart cracks off and drops on to the crappy vinyl seat. “Heard you were going to be the passenger so I volunteered.”
“Huh.”
So we’re friends again? Maybe. Do I even want that?
He reaches across me and grabs the seatbelt. His hand brushes against my thigh as he clicks the buckle into place and a warm puddle of want moves from my belly downward. Nope. Friends isn’t going to be an option.
I inch back, pressing myself against the door. He starts the car and switches the radio on. Some sort of twangy country western thing. I hate Northern Wisconsin radio stations.
He taps his hands along the steering wheel and pulls out onto the camp road.
Four minutes into the silence, he takes a right on to the main highway.
“Laundromat is that way. You know, toward town.”
“You can do your laundry later. I thought we’d do something else.”
“We?”
He nods and continues tapping on the steering wheel. “Yep.”
I need to get my head in the game. My gaze keeps wandering between his tan legs and strong hands. “How’s Robin?”
His mouth dips into a frown. “They’re talking about moving her to hospice. Irene is against it, but I think it would be best for her.”
“What does Robin think?”
He shrugs. “She doesn’t really weigh in. She’s on a lot of morphine. She’s not really awake. It’s Irene’s call at this point.”
“Hmm… Well, I guess she’d know what’s best.”
We drive a few more miles in the opposite direction of civilization before I can’t override my curiosity any longer. “Where are you taking me?”
“It’s not far now.”
That’s it. I’m being held hostage by the guy I’ve been thinking about since practically the first day of camp, maybe even before that, and I’m in full-on panic mode. I don’t know how to be with him. My usual banter won’t work because it’s almost exclusively based in innuendo and that ship has sort of sailed.
He reaches out and pats my leg. “Relax, Kay-Kay. It’s going to be fine.”
I’m not sure what he means by fine because currently my leg is on fire from where he touched me, and I am four seconds from grabbing the steering wheel, heading into the trees, and tackling him.
Oh dear.
A few minutes later, he pulls into a tiny parking lot beside a boat dock. I blink. He opens the door and pulls a waterproof picnic basket from beneath a blanket in the backseat. So not what I was expecting.
He comes to my side of the station wagon and grabs me by the hand. “My canoe is over here.”
I walk behind him to the dock and see a beached canoe tilted over on the shore. He flips it right side up and grabs the two paddles beneath it.
“You were planning this for awhile, huh?” I ask.
“The past three days.”
“Oh.”
He hands me the paddle and pulls the boat to the edge of the water. He drops the picnic basket in the middle and points to the bow. “Well, hop in.”
I slide off my shoes and stow them next to the picnic basket. Then I hop in the front of the canoe and look back at him. He’s staring at me so hard that my pulse speeds up. “Are you okay?”
“Yep. Just admiring the view.”
Okay, then. I am so screwed.
I open my mouth to volley back, but I’ve got nothing. Literally. My throat is dry and I can’t think of one thing to say. He chuckles and pushes the canoe off the shore, hopping into the stern at the last second.
We paddle to the center of the lake and he points out a family of loons. Then we get in a discussion about the impact of motorized boats on the ecosystem of the lake. And for a second, it’s good and we’re like we’ve always been. And I think maybe all of the subtext of this past summer will fade away. He steers us toward a small island and helps me out of the canoe. The way his fingers skim my hips makes my breath catch. He lets his hands linger too long and by the time he’s setting the basket on the ground, I’m so warm and flustered I can’t speak.
“Why are you doing this?” I whisper.
He looks right into my eyes, and I can’t tear my gaze away. “Because you’re worth it.”
Three steps. It takes three steps for him to get to me. To stand in front of me raw with every emotion on his face. My breath comes in shallow gasps and my brain is too crowded with all the wanting.
He releases a shaky breath of his own and cups my face in his rough hands. “Can I?”
I bite my lip and nod. Then his mouth is covering mine and I open for him and suck on his tongue, and he tastes like all the deliciousness of summer in one incredibly sexy package.
He lifts me and my legs wrap around him. I’m whimpering because it’s not enough. His mouth isn’t enough. It’s been too long with too much ache, and now I want all of him. He lowers me down and presses himself on top of me. And just when I finally feel his hardness and arch up into him, he drags his mouth away and looks at me.
“Kay-Kay,” he says in between breaths. “Are you sure this is what you want?”
I nod. “Are you?”
“God yes. From the moment I saw you this summer. I can’t stay away. You’ve got me. For whatever you want. For however long. I’m yours.”
I tug his head down and slide my hands up the back of his shirt. “I want all of it,” I whisper before kissing him, deep and hard with all the things I’ve been feeling for the past seven weeks.
Then everything in my brain fades as we become a tangle of arms and legs and clothes and sweat and all the questions seem to have the same answer: yes, yes, yes.
I can’t stop touching my face on the ride home. It’s covered in razor burn. Only the biggest fool wouldn’t know what I’ve been up to. Alex keeps staring at me like I’m some sort of endangered animal, and I finally turn to him.
“What?”
“Why do you want me?”
“What?”
“Why did you choose me at the beginning of the summer? There’s lots of counselors at the boys’ camp. You’re gorgeous. You could probably have your pick.”
My face breaks into a huge grin. “You think I’m gorgeous?”
“I’ve told you so from the beginning.”
“Yeah, but it’s still nice to hear after you’ve seen all of me.” I can’t hide my blush so I look at my hands in my lap.
He chuckles. “Yeah. I’d say you’re even more gorgeous now.”
“Thanks.”
“So. Why did you pick me?”
“I like you. I’ve always liked you. We’re kind of alike, you know? I get you more than I get those other guys. They’re all just stupid and wanna get wasted and hook up. They don’t care about anything.”
“You’re nineteen going on forty, Kay-Kay.”
I nod. “Yep. I always have been. That’s why I got so tired of hearing all your crap about how young I am. That stuff has never mattered to me.”
He gets quiet for too long, and I nudge his shoulder. “It matters to other people though,” he finally says.
I shrug. “Not my problem.”
He frowns and doesn’t say anything else until we get back to the camp road. “So what do you see happening between us now?”
“Well, it wouldn’t suck to do that again.”
“Ha. True. So is this just that then? We’ve got three weeks of camp left so it’s just going to be fun. Is that what you want?”
I know what I want, but I’m not about to put myself out there like that again. Not when I’m not sure how he’ll respond. Not when there are so many what ifs between us.
“Can’t we just play it by ear?”
He stops the car half way down the camp road. He leans over and kisses me. Soft and warm and wet and yummy. “Okay. We’ll play it by ear.”
Then he drives the rest of the way to the parking lot, and I make the slow climb up the hill back to my cabin. My skin is tingling and I feel like I’m glowing in the dark. My feet move at a snail’s pace because I’m not ready to get back to my cabin yet. The rush of the day is coursing through me, and I want it to last a few minutes more before the reality of camp life settles in again.
I take another step and hear a noise by the bathrooms. I peer into the darkness and feel hands grab me. I almost squeak, but I know these hands. I’ve known them all day. They pull me into the darkness against a tree.
“Alex,” I whisper as he trails his mouth in lingering kisses along my neck. “Someone might see.”
“Yeah,” he says, then lifts me for a hungry mouth kiss before setting me down and stepping back. “It’s probably a good thing I won’t be here next year.”
He drops another kiss on my cheek and starts to whistle as he makes his way toward his tiny cabin.
I slip beneath my sheets and can’t help my brain from latching on to the last thing he said. I won’t be here next year. My gut cramps and I have to take several deep breaths before I can think clearly again. I have three weeks. Three weeks to make a guy old enough to be my dad fall in love with me. How hard can that be?
Chapter Ten
We can’t stop touching each other. It’s bordering on obnoxious and if anyone was looking really careful, we’d totally be called out on it. Alex helps me adjust the archery target, which really involves his hand on my ass as I struggle to inch it two feet to the side. I help him put away the windsurfing boards which is really me sliding my hands up his muscular back while he hoists boards over his head. I may have also licked him. Twice.
I can’t wait until my next night off and when it finally comes, I race to his cabin without even talking to Jo or Sam about my plans. My shirt is off and I’m on top of him when a hard knock sounds on his door.
“You in for the night?” Sam yells.
I choke back a laugh at the look of horror on Alex’s face. “Yep. Talk to you tomorrow.”
“Use protection. Some of his sperm might still be viable,” she calls out and barks out a laugh as she clomps away.
“Your friends know about us?”
I raise my eyebrows. “Not that hard to figure out. They’re not stupid.”
He shakes his head. “This is going to bite you in the ass later. Irene’s gonna find out, and there’s no way she’ll hire you back next year.”
I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from blurting out that I have no intention of returning to camp if he isn’t. Instead, I say, “Well, you won’t be here so it won’t be a problem.”
He fingers the edge of my cut-offs and pulls me down on top of him. “Unless you attack the next poor, unsuspecting windsurfing instructor.”
“Nah. This is kind of a one-time deal. Plus, who’s to say he’d want me? It took everything I had to win you over.”
Alex chuckles. “He’d want you. It took everything I had not to fall.”
I lick my lips and he follows the movement. Yeah. I’m not the only one screwed in this deal. “But you did fall, didn’t you?”
He lifts me up and searches my face for the question behind the question. We both know it’s there. He opens and shuts his mouth, then shakes his head. He knows what I need to hear and still he won’t give it to me. Instead, he flips me over and kisses me until I can’t think about the missing words between us anymore.
Jo, Sam and I are sitting on the waterskiing dock, watching the sunset. It’s a free evening as most of the campers are watching a movie in the rec hall. The loons are calling to each other across the lake, and the quiet peacefulness sinks into me and dampens my restlessness.
“Only about two more weeks,” Jo says. “Do you know what you’re gonna do?”
I shrug. “Go back to college.”
“And him?”
“He’ll go back to teaching.” The hole inside quivers at the notion of time apart, but I’m not an idiot. I want to finish college. He has a job. The reality of nineteen and forty isn’t lost on me.
“And then?”
I bite my lip. “Can I ask him to wait?” I eye Sam who is strangely quiet tonight.
She turns to me. “Is that wh
at you want? I mean, do you really think this is the real deal? I get that you’re an old soul, but really, you’re pretty young to be planting your flag right now.” Sam dangles her bare feet into the water and kicks up a splash.
“Where do you see yourself in five years?” I ask her.
She raises a shoulder. “Don’t know. I couldn’t plan where I’ll be next year. Too much is changing. Too much has changed over the past year.”
“You see, for me, I do know. I mean not exactly, but I know I’ll be teaching in five years. I know I’ll be working with kids somehow. I know I’ll figure out a way to spend summers on a lake. And I know I’ll be with him. Or at least I hope I will be.”
Jo inhales a quick breath. “Really? You’re that sure?” It’s a weighted question. I know all the shit she’s been through with Jeff and the new guy is hitting her hard right now, but again, she won’t talk unless she really needs to, and she rarely thinks she needs to.
“Yeah. I mean nothing is set in stone. But it makes sense. He makes sense to me. Like for the first time, I feel like I found someone who’s a right fit.”
Sam shakes her head. “You won’t be able to talk him into it. No matter how he feels or how sure you are. He’ll think he’s taking something away from you.”
I nibble on my bottom lip. This is the problem, of course. He will think that. And part of it will be a little true. It’s hard to find your great love when you’re only nineteen. It’s stupid and romantic and bullshit really. Except that it’s not. And the idea that I won’t be with him in five years makes something inside of me whither.
“Any ideas?” I ask.
Jo shakes her head and looks to Sam who says, “Hey. I got you in the guy’s bed. All the rest of that stuff is so not my area. Not that getting a guy into bed is my area.” She trips and stumbles over her words as her face reddens, making me even more curious what’s going on with her.
The three of us spend the next twenty minutes in relative silence. We listen to the loons and the voices of people passing in their boats, but mostly, we’re each in our own heads. I’ve gotten used to that with us. It’s become a friendship of time and comfort. We all seem to know when it’s best just to let the universe unfold as it will.
10 Weeks Page 4