Page 40 of How You See Me (You and Me Duology #2)

Hayes

N othing could’ve prepared me for those words coming out of Josie’s mouth. It’s not that I didn’t want to hear them. I did—more than I realized. But they surprised me.

I froze.

Not long, but long enough for her to think I didn’t feel the same. The last thing she should ever doubt is me.

I set her down gently but keep her in my arms as I brush the strands of hair clinging to her tear-streaked cheeks. My fingers shake as they skim her skin. “Please don’t cry.”

“They’re happy tears."

“Are you sure? You’re not upset?”

“Only because I’m scared this will end. It all feels too good to be true.”

I frame her face in my hands, needing her to feel the truth instead.

“I won’t lie to you, Josie. It won’t always be this easy.

We’ll be long distance for a while. My job isn’t just demanding—it’s dangerous and a part of me.

No matter what I want, I don’t know when I’ll be able to walk away from it. ”

Her pretty eyes, the ones that knock me senseless, don’t stray from my face. “I’d never ask you to.”

She says it like a fact. Not a promise. Not a compromise. Another truth.

“Military relationships come with a lot of baggage.” I press a kiss to her forehead, hoping she can sense all the things I can’t quite put into words.

Please don’t love me lightly. This won’t be a smooth road, but I want it to be.

“Hayes, my life has never been easy. I grew up with nothing. Bounced between foster homes. Watched people I loved disappear. I spent years sabotaging my own future because I didn’t believe I deserved one, but I fought to change that.

Hardship doesn’t scare me.” She leans closer.

“Loving you has been the easiest thing I’ve ever done. ”

Air rushes out of my chest, and I have to prevent myself from folding into her right here.

“You took the words right out of my mouth.”

I lean in, needing her to remind me I’m not dreaming. But she sidesteps me with a mischievous sparkle.

With a flick of her wrist, she opens the side van door. “Why don’t you do something else with that mouth and show me?”

“Happily. ”

I flinch, pretending to pounce, and she scrambles backward, collapsing onto the mattress in a tangle of long limbs and laughter. She rolls onto her back and waits for me to join her with a sultry look that levels me faster than any firefight I’ve ever walked into.

I lean on the door frame to take her in.

Her easy, unguarded smile. That mess of hair spilling across the pillow. Her smooth, tanned skin, still warm from the desert sun. And in her eyes—dear God, her eyes—there’s a love so clear and deep it doesn’t just pull me in, it digs roots into me. Holds me in place where I know I’m safe.

This woman loves me.

Me .

And for the first time in my life, I’m not avoiding having those feelings of my own. I’m sprinting toward them.

Nothing could top this moment. Except one thing.

A healthy Ava, ringing the cancer-free bell and walking out of the hospital for good.

Until that day comes, I’ll live for this one. Because this woman I’ve fallen for loves me back, and there’s nothing —not war, not distance, not fear—I wouldn’t face to keep that love alive.

◆◆◆

The view from the trail cuts straight through me.

Standing at the edge of Red Rock State Park, I take in a deliberate breath, letting the clean air and the unique desert landscape re-energize me.

The late afternoon sun stretches long shadows across the earth, setting the towering rock formations aglow with shades of dark orange and crimson.

It’s rugged, untamed, and doesn’t pretend to be anything but what it is.

The cliffs rise like ancient statues, their jagged edges standing tall against the infinite blue sky.

Below, the land rolls out in layers of sandstone, shrubs, and weathered juniper trees.

It’s the kind of place that makes me feel small in the best way—like the world is bigger than the problems and unknowns I wrestle with.

Beside me, Josie's quiet, telling me she feels it too. Thepeace. The weight of something greater than the both of us.

“This place is unreal,” she murmurs, taking my hand.

“Yeah. I wish Ava were here.”

“Why can’t she be?” She adjusts the camera strap and faces me.

“What?”

“Let’s video call her and take her with us.” She holds up her phone like it was an obvious answer. “This stop would have been her favorite, right?”

“Oh, yeah.” Tilting closer, my lips hover over hers. “The way you think of her makes me love you even more.”

She shivers from my touch. Normally, I’d take my time and give her something to think about for later, but I’m excited to make Ava’s day. I press Mom’s number on my phone, and after a brief greeting, she passes it to Ava on the couch .

“Ready for an adventure?” I ask in greeting.

She looks even more out of it than yesterday, but the little jolt of energy the question gives her makes this idea even better. “Always.”

We hike the first mile slowly, letting Ava experience it with us. Josie shows her the red cliffs and snaps a few shots she says Ava will love. I can already picture her painting the rocks in her little spot by the windows.

Ava falls asleep during the third mile, and I stay positive and stop dread from creeping in. Her body’s just tired from repairing itself non-stop.

We get a call back from Mom during the fifth and final mile when she wakes up.

“Did you get some good pics,” she asks Josie through a yawn.

“I did. Even got some of your brother. He’s such a good sport and an even better model.”

I can’t stop the eyeroll, but it’s not like I hate it. Watching Josie in her element, either behind the easel or camera, is one of my favorite past times.

“Maybe that can be his new job when he’s not a Marine anymore,” Ava says.

“I agree. The camera loves him.”

“Do you love him?”

Caught off guard, Josie’s head whips to me. I shrug, giving her permission. There’s no reason to keep it secret now.

“I do, actually.”

“Really?” Ava perks up .

“Did I hear the L word?” Mom appears on the screen behind her to help her sit up, showcasing how fragile Ava’s gotten.

Mom props her up with a pillow, tightening a few strings wound around my rib cage.

They loosened and squeezed throughout the hike, following along with Ava’s mood.

Most of the time she was happy and involved, but there is no ignoring how much she struggles.

She’s still fighting, and it costs her more and more every day.

We pause at the last overlook, the best view of the park so far.

“I can’t wait to paint this place,” Josie says absently, taking a few last shots of the towering rocks in the distance. “My next show will be filled with all the amazing places we’ve visited.”

“Haysie, are you going to her show?” Ava asks.

Josie looks away, already knowing the answer, and I wish I had a different one.

I switch the phone camera view back to me. “I’d love to, but I need to visit California and get back home to you before my leave ends. Her show starts on Sunday, and I report back to work early Monday.”

“Oh.” She chews on a fingernail, thinking. “You don’t have to go to California.”

Josie steps in front of me, saving me from the growing lump in my throat. “Yes, he does. There’s a special little girl who wants to experience the ocean, and he’s going to make sure she does.”

I squeeze her waist in thanks .

“Besides, I’ll have more shows if this one goes well.”

“Is it a big one?” Ava asks.

“The biggest. My agent will have no problems selling my work after this . . . if all goes as we hope.”

“You already said that. What would make it not go well?”

“If no one likes my paintings or I only sell a few. I need to sell them all.”

“She will,” I add, hoping she feels my support the same way I feel hers.

“Will you call me after and tell me how it goes?” Ava asks, her voice sounding more strained than before.

Josie’s muscles go languid under my palm, touched by the question. “You’ll be the first person I call.”

“Hey,” I jokingly complain. The request means Ava has accepted Josie into our family, and I can’t put into words how much that means to me. I’ll gladly take runner up . . . this time. “What about me?”

Josie pats my abs. “Sorry, babe. Girl talk comes first.”

“Fine. But I’m second.”

With Ava still on the call, we hunt for a rock to add to her collection before stopping by the gift shop.

She picks out a T-shirt and a stuffed coyote wearing a tiny Red Rock State Park logoed shirt to match hers.

Josie drifts off to browse the postcards while I examine the silver charm bracelet that caught my eye when we arrived.

I grab one, plus charms to represent the places we’ve visited so far—hot air balloon, cowboy hat, music notes, and the red rock formations—setting my phone aside long enough to pay.

Before I give the bracelet to her, I’ll have to find something to represent Dollywood, the fossil dig, the go-karts, and whatever we do next.

When I get back to the call, Mom’s on the screen again.

“Hey. Where’s Ava?” I ask, chest tightening.

“She’s okay,” Mom says, reading my worry. “She had a coughing fit and got sick.”

“Is that normal?”

“No. She may have picked up a bug at the hospital. Her immune system’s running on fumes these days.”

“The infection is gone, right?”

“Mostly.” She sighs, exhaustion etched in the dark hollows under her eyes. “She’s still on a bunch of meds.”

“I’ll be there soon. You need a break.”

“I’ll call your sisters if I need help.”

My hand scrapes across the back of my neck as annoyance pricks under my skin. “I’m starting to think you don’t want me there.”

“Don’t get surly.” She smiles, tired but honest. “I’d love nothing more, but you need this trip. I’m fine.”

I don’t believe her. Not for a second.

“Enjoy that beautiful girlfriend while you can. Ava and I aren’t going anywhere. But Josie is.”

That doesn’t help. Before I can respond, something flashes in her expression—confusion or concern. She glances offscreen, frowning.

“Someone's here. I’ve gotta go,” she says quickly. “Love you.”

The call drops too fast .

What the hell was that? Who’s there? Who would show up at her temporary place in Charlottesville and cause that alarmed look on her face?

There’s only one person with the audacity I can think of, and he has no right.

I call back and get ignored. My racing pulse blurs the little letters on the phone’s keyboard as I fire off texts.

Me: Who’s there?

Me: Is it him?

Me: Mom?

Mom: Everything’s okay, dear. We’ll talk soon. Have fun.

Not even close to good enough.

“Everything all right?” Josie asks, noticing my heavy breathing, clenched jaw, and the awkward way I’m hiding the gift bag behind my back.

“What do you think about tacos?”

“They’re . . . good,” she says with a laugh.

“I saw a food truck near the highway, and tacos make everything better.”

“Did something happen? ”

She steps closer, placing a hand on my arm, and I let out a loaded breath.

“Mom thinks Ava might be getting a cold, and someone’s at the house.”

“Someone?”

“She didn’t want to tell me who. That’s why I think it’s my father.”

“Oh. Wouldn’t it be a good thing if it’s him?”

“What?”

“Maybe he can help. It’s a lot on your mom to—”

“No.” I don’t mean to snap, but the idea of him waltzing back into our lives like he hasn’t been absent all these years is not something I can accept. And it's the very last thing I want to talk about. “Sorry.”

She studies me for a moment, probably thinking I need to get it all out in the open and start working through my animosity.

That’s not going to happen. Simply thinking about him does unhealthy things to me, and I always spiral.

Rage always wins and turns me into someone I hate.

Talking about it would only make it worse.

That’s why it’s better for everyone if I avoid and suppress.

Keep my memories of him buried like he doesn’t exist. If he’s trying to worm his way back into her life, I hope Mom does the same.

He shouldn’t be allowed to pretend he suddenly cares.

And he certainly doesn’t deserve her forgiveness.

“Hard shell tacos or soft?” she asks, hooking an arm around mine and pointing me toward the exit and a safer topic. She always knows what I need.

“Both. ”

“I’m a quesadilla girl myself. Salsa or guacamole?”

“Salsa.”

She smiles up at me, and it’s all I need to center myself, remember the mission, and get back to the contentment she so easily brings out in me.

“Good. Can I have your guacamole?”

Leaning down, I peck her cheek. “You can have whatever you want.”