Page 7

Five

Huck

I never imagined that I’d be standing in a gravel parking lot in the middle of Iceland wearing another man’s sweater while I was torn in two.

I was freaking desperate to get back to my laptop or, hell, even a piece of paper and a pen to write.

I hadn’t felt this inspired in…actually, I couldn’t remember a time in recent history when I felt so desperate to pour the words from myself.

I’d basically given up on ever being inspired again.

Now that it was back, I didn’t want to turn away from it.

But I was fixed in this spot, in the gaze of Stella’s hazel eyes.

She smelled like fresh rain and wildflowers, and the way she was looking at me stirred up something else I hadn’t felt in so long that I almost couldn’t name the feeling.

Interest. Not just want. And I had a pulse, so yes, I wanted her.

I was desperate to press my mouth to her chapped lips, trace along her fine collarbone and down her strong arms, slide my hands over her hips and reel her into me, but it was so much more than that.

I wanted to captivate her. I had to hear her opinion and know that she thought what I was creating was worthwhile. That it was good.

What happens next?

I considered her question for a long moment, breathing the air she exhaled into the space between us.

An entire universe of possibilities unfurled before me.

I shook them off; after all, we’d only just met, and I knew better.

I looked pretty good right now. I was still novel and interesting, and maybe even a little mysterious.

She hadn’t had a chance to see the cracks in my veneer, the web of flaws and weaknesses beneath…

the stuff Dad and Vanessa had seen so clearly and made sure I could never forget.

I hadn’t ruined things yet, the way I always did. But it was only a matter of time.

“I’m going to need caffeine if you want me to keep plotting,” I said, tucking my worries and painful memories away.

“I guess we better find a café, then. Someone told me that coffee is the perfect way to warm up.” Her voice was solemn, unlike her playful expression. Was she flirting with me? I wanted her to be, even though this couldn’t go anywhere.

“Let’s go, friends,” she called. “The writer needs caffeinated fuel, and I am desperate for one of those poppy seed pastries.”

“Múnstykki!” Ted hollered. Of course Ted had already picked up the key vocabulary of Iceland.

He hadn’t changed much since our school days.

He was still as charismatic as ever, the most fun guy in the room.

The leader of every trip, with the most beautiful, interesting girl right next to him.

After a day in any country, he probably knew all the important food-, alcohol-, and navigation-related words, along with the best pickup lines.

The essentials. He gave Stella’s shoulders a playful squeeze and bounded to the van.

We found a bakari a few miles down the road, and within minutes were scarfing down sweet dough swirls speckled with poppy seeds, sandwiches thick with egg, and lattes that were somehow better than anything back at home even though they came from a machine.

It must’ve been the milk. Stella took big bites of her pastry, declaring it the best one she’d had so far.

Then she drank two cappuccinos, leaving a tempting trail of foam on her top lip that she cleared with a tantalizing flick of her tongue.

I pulled a notebook and pen out of my messenger bag and started working on a storyline based on the idea that I’d been playing around with in the parking lot with the gang but found it hard to concentrate.

In between sips and bites, Stella pored over a map, marking things down with a pen, crossing other things out, and pulled my attention away from the fictional world I was trying to conjure.

“Will you go to another site today?” I asked.

Stella shook her head and disappointment settled into the pit of my stomach. “Zoe needs to fly home tomorrow for a case and Gus is going back too to finish a grant for his research,” she explained. “We need to head to Reykjavík to take them to the airport.”

“Are you leaving then as well?” I tried to sound nonchalant, but my voice was leaden. “You won’t keep searching?”

Ted plopped another pastry down in front of me. “Eat up, buddy.”

I watched as Stella pressed a soft thumbprint to her plate to collect the remaining poppy seeds and then sucked them off.

“Nope. Teddy and I are more flexible. Our tickets are open-ended. I definitely want to check out some additional falls. This trip is high stakes. I’m not just looking for Gunnarsson’s treasure.

I’m also hoping to confirm the existence of a much bigger find we’re also searching for that belonged to the Sea People—the earliest pirates.

I won’t stop searching. It will be more of a process, though.

Covering the grids takes a lot longer with only two people.

” She glanced up at me, her eyes narrow with mischief.

“Unless…” She was about to proposition me somehow, I was certain. I was also sure that whatever she was about to ask me, I would agree to. I was in.

“Yes,” I interrupted.

“You don’t even know what I was going to ask,” she teased.

“Maybe, but aren’t you impressed by my level of investment?”

She tipped her head and looked at me, the heat in her hazel gaze saying more than an entire conversation would have.

“So how should we spend our last day in Iceland?” Gus asked, and took a sip of espresso. “Digging in the dirt, another hike, bicycle tour of Reykjavík?”

Zoe raised a hand. “It’s not quite as thrilling as all of those things sound, and I know it’s kind of touristy, but I was kind of hoping to visit the Blue Lagoon before we go. Get a little vacation on before my vacation is over, if you catch my drift?”

Teddy got on his phone and started investigating. “Looks like there are some spots left at one p.m.—that should be enough time to get there. What do you think, Stella?”

“I’ll never say no to a lagoon, or Zoe.”

Would it be strange to invite myself, pathetic even? I wondered. I didn’t want breakfast to be the end of whatever this was.

Stella turned to me. “What about you, Huck? Have a bathing suit in that writer’s satchel of yours?”

Something about the way she lifted her eyebrow made me swallow hard. “It fits a surprising number of important things,” I said, “but I didn’t think to pack my trunks in there.”

Ted swung an arm around my neck. “Amateur,” he said with a chuckle. “I would’ve thought I’d taught you better.”

“I seem to remember you being more of a clothing-optional guy.”

“Okay, yeah, but I’ve matured and am well-traveled now. So I’m keenly aware that one should always have a bathing suit handy in Iceland. You never know when you’ll stumble upon some unofficial hot spring. That’s why I harnessed my inner Boy Scout and packed three.”

“Didn’t you get kicked out of the Boy Scouts?” Zoe said.

“Wouldn’t you like to know. Sully, I’ll come to your rescue and let you borrow one of my extras. It’ll be just like when we were at Monadnock. You were always stealing my polo shirts among other things. Maybe that’s why I was clothing-optional. You were wearing it.”

I wanted to make sure this bathing suit was not some sort of Euro-style mankini before I committed, because Ted was the kind of guy who would have one solely to ensure he could fuck with some dude who found himself in need of some swim apparel—in this case, me—but Stella was still watching, waiting for an answer.

Honestly, who the hell am I kidding? I thought. I’d wear a Speedo if it meant getting to spend more time near her.

“I guess I’m in too,” I said.