Revelry

Insecurity was a tricky bastard. I’d gone from sailing on the highest of clouds to walking under one that was constantly drizzling on my head. He didn’t owe me anything, and I knew that, but I’d seen such a different side of him since the night I found him waiting on my front porch. Gone was the silent, broody man who’d piqued my curiosity. He’d been replaced by a man who loved to talk, to listen, to touch. And he laughed—he had the best laugh. I’d made it my mission every day to hear that sound at least once, and for two solid weeks I had.

The last few days with him being sick had been quiet, and I’d been slipping back into my thoughts. I knew I needed to do that, to face my fears and lick my wounds, but if I was being honest, it was hard—and by far my least favorite thing to do.

I’d asked him if he wanted me to bring him anything, soup or Gatorade, anything to see him. He’d declined, assured me he would be fine and he’d see me soon, and I’d filled my time with FaceTime calls to Adrian and working on Anderson’s clothes.

I missed him.

It was stupid and dangerous and a little crazy, but it was true.

I wasn’t sure if he’d even show today, but here he was, and even if he wasn’t feeling one-hundred percent better, I was glad he was here at all.

I just wished he’d let me in, because I knew something was wrong.

But Anderson and I had a deal of sorts. If and when he wanted to talk to me, he would. And until then, I wouldn’t press it. Instead, I focused on enjoying my first hike with the crew.

I’d never been on a hike before, and even though they all assured me this was an easy one, I knew I’d be sore in the morning. My calves were already burning from the constant incline, but the views were nice enough to combat the pain.

Davie carried little Benjamin in a hiking carrier strapped to his shoulders where he and Yvette followed behind me, and they were a constant source of entertainment. Between Benjamin’s pointing and baby noises and Yvette and Davie bickering over who held what and who walked where, it was the strangest kind of comfort. Tucker held up the back with old man Ron, and even though I was the outsider, I didn’t feel like it.

It was strange how much I already felt like family. Momma Von had taken me in first, but over time so had everyone else. Yvette and I hung out and talked nearly every day, and even Ron had stopped by one afternoon to have a drink with me on the front porch while Anderson cleaned out the rain gutters. Of course Ron didn’t say a single word the entire time he was there, but it was nice to have his presence while I sketched.

How fascinating that a place so unfamiliar could feel like home in such a short amount of time. I wondered if the location even had anything to do with it at all.

“I’m glad you came,” I said to Anderson, picking up my pace so I could catch him.

I didn’t want to bother him, but I did want him to know I was there if he needed me. He slowed when I spoke, just a little, enough to walk beside me where there was room. When the path narrowed, he either fell behind to let me go first or helped me up, finding his place beside me right after.

“Are you feeling better?”

He nodded, a hard line between his eyebrows and mouth flat. He didn’t look very well, eyes rimmed with dark rings that told me he hadn’t been sleeping much, but I kept to our deal.

“Good. I was worried I’d have to rush you to that little shack by the grocery store. That’s the ER, right?”

It was a terrible joke, and Anderson’s fake smile didn’t come close to reaching his eyes before it dropped again.

“I was thinking about busting open that bottle of wine I picked up when Momma Von and I were in the city the other day. It’s supposed to be cool tonight, too—might jump in the hot tub. You want to join?”

The muscle under his jaw flexed and he let me move in front of him for a narrow climb of rocks. When we got to the top, he started to answer, but Momma Von stopped him short.

“Wren! Get up here! Give me your phone, there’s a perfect shot of the mountains through this clearing.” She waved me forward and Anderson moved past me, not answering my invitation. He walked straight past Momma Von and Sarah, effectively becoming the new leader.

I just frowned.

“Come on, peaches, give me your phone. Don’t worry about your hair or whatever it is that’s making you hesitate, you look beautiful.” She winked, hand still outstretched and I offered a soft smile in return, handing her my phone. She posed me in an opening that had a clear view of the lush green mountains and only let me go after she’d snapped at least twenty photos. By that time we were the new caboose, and the insecurity cloud was pelting me with rain again.

It took us just under an hour to make it all the way to the top of the hike. It was marked with a simple outdoor bathroom, a plaque that detailed the origin of lookout tower, and of course, the tower itself. It was tall, at least ten flights of stairs leading up to the top of it, and I squinted with one hand shielding my face as I took it all in.

“Pretty awesome, huh?” Tucker asked, sidling up beside me. Davie, Yvette, and Benjamin were already unpacking snacks and laying out a picnic while Momma Von and Ron cracked open a tall boy he’d packed in his bag. Sarah was on her phone, and Anderson was reading the plaque—or just staring at it.

Tucker dropped his backpack to the ground near his feet and wiped a hand over his forehead and back through his damp hair. He wore a light blue tank top and his pretty boy smile, eyes bright as they waited for me to respond.

“It is. I’m definitely going to be sore tomorrow,” I added with a chuckle.

He grinned, too, reaching into the side pocket of his bag to pull a large Thermos loose. “Water?”

He tilted it toward me and I took it graciously, guzzling nearly half of it before handing it back to him. He just watched me the entire time, taking his own drink as soon as the Thermos was back in his hand.

“Thank you.”

He nodded, tucking it back in his pack and letting his eyes follow where mine were focused on the view of the mountains ahead of us.

“You busy tomorrow night?” he asked after a moment. “I was thinking we could go into town to that diner I was telling you about, if you’re up for it.”

I squinted up at him, wishing I’d packed sunglasses but smiling nonetheless. “Oh yeah, we still need to do that, huh?”

“Indeed we do,” he agreed, but his smile slipped as a shadow fell over both of us.

Anderson still wore a tight scowl, his presence like a strong gust of ice cold wind, but his hand was warm when it reached forward to grab mine. He didn’t look at Tucker once, didn’t apologize for interrupting, just stared directly at me—into my eyes, into my soul.

“Come with me.”

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