Page 8
eight
Paisley
Sophie: We are just pulling into the Arena. Look for the black Ford Lincoln Navigator.
I’m sitting in my car, staring at my phone, and reading the text. The sun isn’t even up yet, and it’s way too early to solve riddles.
Me: Do you mean Lincoln Navigator?
Before she can reply, a black Navigator with tinted windows rolls to a stop in front of me. I check the emblem on the hood. It’s Lincoln, with dealer plates. Chuckling, I get out of my car, cross the parking lot to the SUV, and open the back door. Axl is driving, with Sophie riding shotgun. I throw my small backpack on the floor and climb inside. “Morning.”
“Morning,” Sophie calls back. “Obviously, we are still waiting on Noah. He said he’s running late.”
“Oh, that’s okay.” I pause for a moment, wondering why he never texted me. “So, did you get a new Navigator?”
“No, it’s a Ford Lincoln Navigator, and it’s not mine. Just a rental. I wanted something with third-row seating for all the extra bags, so we’d be comfortable.” Sophie smiles brightly, not understanding why I’m confused—or rather why she is confused.
“I get that Ford owns Lincoln, but I think this make is just called Lincoln.” My gaze cuts to Axl, who is wearing an amused grin in the reflection of the rearview mirror.
“Don’t even bother trying to explain it to her. Since the dealership had the sign that said both, she insists this is what it is,” he says when he catches me staring at him. “I lost ten minutes of my life I’ll never get back.”
“Got it.” I nod, and Noah’s SUV pulls in next to us, parking at a bit of a slant. Instead of straightening his car to fit between the painted lines, he jumps out and rushes over, opening the back hatch to drop a bag in. Then he runs over to his door and pants as if he’s out of breath. “Hey, sorry I’m late. My dog took my . . . ah, vitamins last night, and I was a little worried he might eat them. I didn’t want him to get sick, so I tried looking again this morning.”
“You keep us waiting and lead with ‘the dog ate my’ excuse,” Axl replies. “Can’t you come up with something better than that?”
“I didn’t say he ate them. He hides things sometimes. But yeah, I’m worried he might eat them.” He slides in next to me and shuts his door. Axl pulls the vehicle forward and steers toward the road. Noah allows himself a moment to breathe. His chest seems to relax, and he looks over at me. “Morning. How is your day going?”
I’m quieter than normal when I reply, “Better than yours.”
Axl chimes in, his voice not concealing the cackle of laughter he’s desperately holding back. “Are you ready to ride in Sophie’s new Ford Lincoln Navigator?”
“What? I don’t understand the joke.” Noah looks at him, and then cuts a gaze at Sophie. “Isn’t this a Navigator?”
Axl’s shoulders visibly bounce, but he’s tough and doesn’t leak out even a snicker. “Don’t bother explaining it.”
“I’m confused.” Noah looks back at me.
“So are the rest of us.” I resist an audible laugh, as I hate to make fun of people, even though it is in good fun.
“Okay then.” Noah leans back in his seat and proceeds to tap his foot.
“So, Paisley,” Sophie says, steering the conversation in a new direction, “I’m excited you could make it. The guys go everywhere together. I’m glad to have another female along to even it out.”
“Oh, yeah, before I forget.” Noah leans in, a teasing gleam sparking out of his eye. “Bill needs to make sure you aren’t a Palmer City Voltage fan.”
“The Voltage?” I give him a side-eye, and my body stiffens as I have no idea where this is coming from. “No, I can’t say I am. I don’t have anything against them, though.”
“You’re dating this girl, and you don’t even know what her favorite hockey team is?” Axl heckles.
“I said we are newish,” Noah quips back, but his gaze lingers on me. “Of course, her favorite team is Granite Ice.”
“You guys are certainly wearing off on me.” My lips pull into a squeamish smile as all I can think about is how I first came to Mapleton to destroy this team. Now they are welcoming me on an all-paid-for trip. What would they say if they knew what I was originally up to? I resist the urge to hang my head because that would be all too telling of my shame. My fingernail finds its way between my teeth. I nibble at it, so much guilt washing over me.
I can’t change the reason I came here.
I also am not going to not live my life, hiding in shame.
I argue with myself that it’s in the past. I can’t change it, and I might as well move on from it and enjoy the trip.
“Do you guys want to watch a movie?” Sophie calls back, while handing a remote to me. “In the spirit of Valentine’s weekend, I grabbed every single romcom I have.”
“Great.” Axl groans out. “Glad I’m driving.”
My gaze shifts to Noah, and he’s untriggered. “Are you watching or sleeping?”
“I just woke up. I don’t need a nap.” He crosses his arms over his chest, as if he’s preparing to sit a while. “I’ll watch it with you.”
I settle in, pulling a leg under me into a more comfortable position. I turn my attention to the screen in front of my seat, and I turn it on with the remote. Some previews flash on and I try to pay attention. It only takes a moment, and my gaze slides back to Noah. I remember how I accidentally snuggled with his arm on our last road trip. Warm feelings return, and I can’t help but wish we could scoot a little closer as the movie previews roll.
His leg is doing that restless leg thing, but he’s tuned into the screen.
Axl gets on the interstate, and I'm overwhelmed with the feeling of belonging. Everyone is treating me like we're a friend group, and it's oddly emotional since I've never really had this before. I try to get into the movie but as soon as it’s quiet the niggling in the back of my head says I should be ashamed to even go on this trip after all I did to hurt these guys. My brow bends down, as I don’t know why this is bothering me so much now. I’m supposed to be having fun. Everyone is joking and laughing, and I can’t shake the feeling that this is a terrible idea to go on this trip. As much as I want to have friends, I don’t deserve to have these guys as friends. Chewing on my thumbnail again, I force my attention to the movie, and I tell myself repeatedly that it’s only one night, and I leave Mapleton next week. It can’t be that bad . . .
With the sun in full bloom over the mountains, we arrive at the ski resort less than an hour later. The air is brisk, springing me wide awake as we plow through the new snow, skis and poles in hand, and we pause to gear up.
Sophie and the guys all grab snowboards and seem to flawlessly slip into their brand-name ski goggles. Axl and Sophie glide over the snow, heading out to the lift. I’m the only one who struggles to remember how to snap my boot shut. It takes me a few tries of jabbing my toe into the binding and leaning all my weight back until I hear the heel click. “Finally.” I look up, and Noah is waiting. “Sorry it took so long.”
“It’s not a race. We’re here all day.” He pushes off with his free foot to slide over the snow toward the lift. I follow behind, shuffling my feet forward, but can’t seem to get moving. The packed snow beneath the powder proves slippery, and I’m stuck in one place.
“Try bending your knees,” Noah calls back from up ahead, where he pauses again to wait on me.
I feel like a penguin as I shift my weight from one ski to the next. There’s no way I even remotely look like I know what I’m doing. Laughter spirals in my gut as I ski-waddle on. “Sorry, it’s been years since I skied. I don’t remember it being this hard to get going.”
“It’s okay. It’s easier on the hill.” His brows dip together, nearly joining in the middle. “They went to the black diamonds. Maybe we should try a green?”
“Oh, no.” I almost scowl at the mere suggestion that I must start on the bunny slopes. I jab my poles into the snow to push myself forward. That helps the most, and I ski-waddle, pole-slide over until I’m finally next to him. “I can ski just fine. It’s this flat earth stuff that’s got me stuck.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
“Okay, then.” He nods toward the lift, but his gaze stays locked on me, as if he’s daring me. “This is our ride. It’s an express to the top.”
“That sounds perfect.” I shuffle forward until I’m between the ropes.
He gives me a bit of a suspicious side-eye. “Do you remember how to get on a lift?”
“You just sit, right?” I eye the pairs of people already riding the lift, and it’s as simple as I remember it. The duo in front of us positions themselves in the line, and a chair comes up behind them, scooping them up. Now it’s our turn. I dig my poles into the snow and steadily push myself forward. The last thing I need to do is get beamed in the back with a ski chair. I make it to my spot just in time. The chair nudges at the back of my calves, and Noah and I sit, and take off for the sky.
This lift is faster than any lift I’ve ever ridden. In no time we are above the trees. Noah elbows me on purpose, speaking through a snicker. “Something tells me you are pretending to be a novice so you can blow dust at me as soon as we are at the top.”
“Nope.” I shake my head, laughing too. “That is not my plan. I’ve skied some, but not since middle school, and clearly, I forgot everything I thought I knew.”
“Oh, yes.” His head rolls back into the start of a nod. “I forgot. You always have a plan. What is it this time?”
“It’s just the basic plan.” I offer a teasing smile, even though my gut is feeling a little loopy from the chairlift swaying. “It includes not dying. Not hitting a tree. Not getting lost. Not ending up being the subject of one of those made-for-TV movies where some chick gets sucked into an avalanche and survives for three days while the whole town searches for her, and in the end is rescued by an adorable Husky.”
“Basic plans are so boring. They only focus on the bad things. You need to upgrade to the platinum plan. That’s where the good stuff happens.”
His tone is laced with so much flirtation, I can’t help but bat my lashes. “Do tell of this platinum plan.”
“Well, for starters, you could have fun.” He elbows me lightly and tacks on, “Or you might get to snuggle on the ski lift with a handsome date.”
“We aren’t snuggling.” I dart my eyes to the sliver of space that’s left between our bodies. It’s small but totally there—not that it would be bad to snuggle.
Would it be bad?
Heat rises to my face as I manage to reply, “We aren’t even touching at the hips.”
“Right, but that’s because you bought into the basic plan.” He wags his brows at me. “You need to think about upgrading the plan.”
“I do.” My voice is flat, concealing all hints that my heart is hammering in my chest. Everything about this flirty side of Noah makes me extremely aware of the fact we only have a tiny sliver of space separating our bodies.
“You do.” I wait for him to do a flirty look away, but he doesn’t even blink. His eyes hold mine in a way that’s more daring than friendly. I know what I’m doing. Two can play this game. I scoot closer to him, closing the gap between us, silently challenging him to read between the lines.
Nowhere on any planet does me being interested in Noah Miller make any sense. However, we are technically not rooted on the planet now—we are floating through the sky. So all my racing thoughts are totally fine.
Like how I want to know what it feels like to have his arms wrapped around me so badly, that I feel like I’m about to suffocate over here on my side of the ski lift without it. Clearly, it’s his fault because he’s the one who suggested snuggling in the first place. My body seems to sway, inching even closer to him as I hold my breath and wait for a cue from him to lean even closer.
He wears a mischievous grin as his gaze shifts down to my lips. A hurricane of spirals erupts in my gut but then ends abruptly when our lift jolts and noticeably slows, cresting to the top of the hill. I regretfully pull my attention from him to gather my poles in one hand and get ready to stand. A brittle laugh fueled only by nerves leaks from my gut. “Here we go.”
“On three.” He counts down at the perfect tempo so that as soon as he says three, we both stand to glide forward to clear the way.
I drop a giant sigh of relief that I didn’t fall, and I celebrate with a beaming smile. “Made it this far.”
He lowers his goggles, adjusting the straps to fit perfectly underneath his beanie. He looks like a professional. I take the regular sunglasses out of my puffer coat pocket, slip them on, and pretend to feel confident.
“If it’s okay,” he says while he straps in his other boot to his snowboard, “I’ll stay by you on this run until I know you got the hang of it.”
“Yeah.” I waddle-ski, pole-slide over to the side, mapping my path. The middle of the run looks the steepest with a big ditch that has huge dips. The side is banked and doesn’t drop as fast. “Like I said before . . . ” I inch toward the side and toss a look back at him to reassure him I know what I’m doing. “I was struggling because it was flat. Once I get on the slopes—”
It starts with a slip and a giant gust of wind.
Who turned on the wind?
My eyes pop open.
And I’m gone.
Whooooosh!
My knees lock with skis parallel and pointing straight ahead. I’m frozen in complete fear and can’t remember how to cut or even if I ever knew how. I’m blazing down, smoking past even the most expert skiers, who know how to slow their descent. The run dips and then rises into tiny ramps that shoot me out even faster, and I wail out a scream at the top of my lungs.
How I haven’t died yet is a miracle. Somehow, I’m still upright, and racing forward. Something crazy happens. I finally stop screaming to inhale a deep breath. I just survived one of the biggest drops on this run. A smile tugs on the corner of my mouth, and I inhale again. I slowly bend my knees and narrow my stance, shifting my weight to cut, and my legs start to shake.
Ka blam wham!
I’m suddenly back flippin’ and belling floppin’ like a flapjack in a truck stop diner, all the way down the hill. There’s a yelp and a yip, and a long groan. One pole goes west, the other east. My skis snap out of my boots. I can’t even begin to describe the assortment of leg splits I’m twisted into before I finally roll to a moaning stop. The cold seeps through my pants and inches deeper through my extremities. The wildest thing of all is that I’m not scared. I don’t even flinch as I sprawl out in my snow-angel pose. I’ve connected the pattern, and I know Noah will rescue me.
It’s what he does.
It’s like fate, but handier.
“Paisley.” The slicing of his snowboard tips me off that he’s near me. Another second later, he cuts to a stop next to me, carrying both skis I had lost. “Are you trying to die today?”
No, that wasn’t my plan at all. If I had it my way, we’d be riding that ski lift around all day, snuggling . . .
As I move to look at him, my shoulder pulsates rays of pain that shoot all the way down to my hip. I peel my body off the ground to sit up and carefully steady my boots in the snow to stand, asserting my best independent-woman tone. “I accidentally on purpose ran a, ah, test.”
“Test?” he sputters out, his lips pinching into an amused smirk. “Any test that looks like that is clearly a failure.”
“Not quite.” I wag my finger at him to buy time, but it hurts to even move my finger. I’m not sure how I’m going to talk myself out of this one. “It was a test to see if you were, ah, in fact, telling the truth about staying with me.”
“A lie-detector test, then?” His lips tug into a teasing smile as he passes my skis back over. “I clearly passed.”
“Yes.” I don’t try to nod because I can already tell doing so would strengthen this pull that I have in my shoulder.
“Are you going to be able to make it down the hill?”
I dig my teeth in my bottom lip and stare at the ski lodge at the bottom of the hill. Even though I’d flown down half of the hill, there’s still a nice jaunt to the bottom.
Not going to lie.
With the way my shoulder is throbbing, if I had the option to sit this out, I would. I don’t have a thing to prove to myself. My gut rolls into a tight ball confirming I actually hate skiing.
“Tell you what,” Noah says slowly, “you make it to the bottom, and I’ll buy you a hot chocolate.”
“Oh, yes.” I nod, not feeling even the slightest bit better. “The hot chocolate you forewarned about with the kissing.”
“Wow, that’s certainly forward of you to suggest kissing, but only if it will make you feel better.” He nods toward the ski lodge—that’s still a long way down the hill. It looks like a Lego house from up here. “You first.”
I wasn’t nervous before because I was delusional. Clearly my memories of skiing in my younger years do not match up to my reality. I don’t remember it being that hard. Now that I’ve discovered I have no natural balance, my nerves fire on. My legs are jittering when I step into my skis again, but I know I must do this.
It’s too far to climb up.
And I have to get down somehow.
I swallow, fixing my gaze on the little Lego ski lodge.
“Come on.” He waves me forward. “I’ll be right behind you.
“If you say so.” I breathe slowly, and shift my weight to one ski, allowing it to angle down. I take a minute to make sure the straps on the poles are around my wrist. I can’t find a comfortable position to hold my left pole in because everywhere I try, it makes my shoulder pulsate.
Regretfully, I slowly push off. Not because I want to. I have no other choice. As soon as I start descending, I bend my knees and focus on balancing as I cut to turn the other way, and it works.
I’m not the fastest person out here anymore. My legs are working mostly okay, except for the shaking coming from my knees. That’s straight fear. My shoulder seems to have lost most of its range of motion, and it throbs in pain, but I focus on the little Lego ski lodge down below as motivation to get me through this run.
Somehow, we manage to glide to a smooth stop at the lodge, where I whip off my beanie and sunglasses and drop an explosive sigh of relief. “I’m not going back up there.”
“Nobody said you had to.” Noah’s grin is easy as he unlatches his boots and kicks up his board to prop it against the side of the lodge with the rest of the stored gear.
Despite the winter temps, I’m drenched in sweat and breathe heavily as we pass through the doors. I manage to hobble up the single set of stairs to the restaurant. Two hot chocolates later, we stroll back through the lodge in search of a spot to rest. All the tables are taken, and the only available seat is an oversized leather loveseat. A pile of children’s books and a few discarded toys scatter over the corner, and it takes everything I have not to get up to tidy it up. Normally, my mind doesn’t rest around clutter, but today I don’t care. On a day with fewer bruises, I wouldn’t be able to resist. “After you.” Noah gestures toward the sofa.
“Don’t mind if I do.” The grunt is all mine. I plop down, propping my feet up on the little rustic coffee table. My body melts into the leather like it’s chocolate at the beach.
His snicker laugh is instant, and his direct gaze warns me that he will force me to converse rather than rest in silence. “That smile says you’re done skiing for the day.”
“I can’t say skiing is my forte.” Now that I know my funeral is averted for at least another day, a chuckle moves inside me as I check my smartwatch. “It only took me an hour to almost die today. Not too bad.” I bob my head, feeling the self-deprivation kick in. “If you’re worried about me, I’m fine sitting here. You go ahead and get back out.” I gesture out the window at all the happy skiers buzzing down the hill.
“I would rather sit here with you.” He nudges his shoulder next to mine—thank goodness it’s my good shoulder or I might have yelped. He effortlessly slouches into the cushions to match me.
“Consider that my gift to you.” I take a sip of tepid hot chocolate, hoping to wash away at least some of my embarrassment. When I swallow, my cocoa-coated taste buds beg me to lean my head back, and my eyes close as almost every ligament in my body throbs in pain.
“You might consider getting checked out by a chiropractor or physician,” Noah’s voice cuts through my hazy thoughts. When I don’t reply, he proceeds to pat my thigh, at which point my brain literally booms. “Hey, did you hear me? You might need a doctor.”
My brain is still booming. I’ve never been one for public affection of any kind, but it’s those soft little touches that always get me. Like, melt me even faster into this couch. I open one eye. Noah has a look of concern pinned on his brows, but my skin is begging for those snuggles he teased earlier.
“I’ll be fine.” Taking his cue, I reach over and pat his leg. “But thanks for your concern.”
“I’m not trying to sound like a know-it-all, but I’ve seen an awful lot of injuries, and your whole shoulder looks completely disjointed. How you aren’t screaming in pain is beyond me.”
“Now that you mention it.” I lean forward and proceed to run my hand along the top of my shoulder, checking for anything that feels weird, even though I have no idea what I’m feeling for. “I do feel a little lopsided.” I downplay the intensity of the pain, but I can’t deny something is a little off.
“Here.” He reaches for my shoulder, and I immediately tense, jerk back, and yelp like one of those yippy dogs. “See, you are out of place.” His tone is cautionary as he slides his hand over my shoulder blade.
“I’m fine.” I blink at him, as if moving my eyelids proves my shoulder is functional.
He slides to the edge of the couch. “Come on. You need to be seen by a medical professional, and you’re in luck, because the clinic takes walk-ins until noon. If we leave now, we’ll have enough time to get there.”
“I’m fine,” I assert again, this time tossing my hair back over my shoulder, but the mere circular motion of my head sends a shooting ninja star slicing all the way down my side. I leak out a groan that sounds like something that could only come out of a body raised from the dead. Gazes from people in the lobby dart my way. I’ve never wished to stumble across a sinkhole more than I do in this moment. Except at this point, I don’t think I could even stand to fall into one.
“Here’s the deal.” He stands, squaring his gaze with mine. “You think you can handle it now, but it will get worse when the adrenaline wears off. Unless you get some painkillers, there is no way you’ll be able to sleep. Trust me.” He holds out his hand, offering me a lift. “It’s best to go now while your body is still flooded with adrenaline. If it hurts this bad now, you’ll be crawling on the floor in an hour.”
I want to rub my eyes, soothing my oncoming headache, but even bending my arm to do that triggers my shoulder to shoot jets of fire down my body. “Maybe.”
He quirks a confused eyebrow. “What do you mean, maybe?”
I wag a sassy finger at him as I realize any shred of dignity I’m holding onto is about to go up in flames. “Depends on if I can move.”
“Oh, I’ll get you there.” Without warning, he scoops me off the sofa, the pain so intense even minor movements make my arm shake. I bite down on my lip, resisting the urge to let out another cryptic groan. I hate to admit Noah is right about the pain getting worse as the seconds tick by, but that’s the only way I can reason with what’s going on in my body. It’s like an outer layer of cushion is slowly getting ripped off, leaving the burn of fire from the depths of my core. I’m choking back tears and groans, and my vision starts to go opaque as I lean my head against his chest and allow him to carry me out of the lodge.
I don’t remember much about the hospital except for the fact that they gave me the good muscle relaxers as soon as I got to the examination room. One moment I was nearly convulsing from the pain. The next, I was slumped over on the table, leaning on my good elbow, and everything was chill.
I felt completely at ease by the time the doctor popped my shoulder back into place. So much so, I walk out of the clinic with a bubblegum lollipop the nurse gave me. It sticks out of the side of my mouth, and it’s definitely the source of my slobber. “I don’t know much about medicine,” I slur on my way back to Sophie’s SUV, “but I think that doctor was a little handsy.”
“Nope.” Noah’s straight face lies. When I squint, I can tell the corners of his eyes crease into a want-to laugh. He’s struggling not to laugh at this whole situation. “That was protocol for putting a shoulder back in place.”
“Really?” I pause at the passenger door as Noah opens it and places a hand on my forehead for protection—as if I don’t know how tall I am.
Five six to be exact.
Or maybe that’s metric?
My gaze drops to the floor. Something seems off about that. I look up as I try to see the top of my head. When I find out that’s not possible my brows furrow. Noah puts his free hand on my upper arm and guides me forward into the SUV. For no reason other than the fact that I got the good painkillers, I laugh, big and loud.
He leans over me to help buckle me in, and his signature ocean-breeze scent wafts under my nose.
I love the ocean.
The wind.
The sun.
The breeze.
The cute men in swim trunks with deep olive tans. Before I have a chance to filter my words, I word vomit, “I bet you look good in swim trunks.”
“Excuse me?” One brow rises higher than the other, and he freezes.
“Oh, I didn’t mean it like that. It was a reasonable observation.” I flatten my palm to my chest in a humble position. “You were just so fragrant. Like the ocean. Beach. Place. Not like a sewer.” I gesture into the silence as I think of a suitable way to explain how random this is, but my brain is fuzzy. It’s like they gave me truth serum. The only thing I’m capable of is oversharing all my thoughts that should never be spoken. “You look good anywhere.” I smirk as my body is Jell-O, just a glob of mass without bones or even sore muscles.
A shocked chuckle bursts out of him as he shuts the door and runs along to the other side of the car. The drive back to the lodge to meet up with Sophie and Axl is a bit of a haze. These meds make my thoughts so fuzzy and disjointed, I hardly even know what I’m saying. I’m quite sure I didn’t shut up for a single second. I blubbered all the way back to the ski resort. I don’t even think I muster full sentences. It’s more like random words. Nachos. Snuggles. Hot chocolate. Hockey. Kissing. Kissing. Kissing.
After picking up Sophie and Axl, we arrive at our cabin a few minutes later. Noah slips his arm around my waist and gently pulls me from the car.
I’m not a fan of walking.
But I love being in his arms.
Been craving that most of the day, and it’s fantastic. Aside from the fact that my feet drag like wet rags made of bricks over the light dusting of snow, Noah does a decent job of tugging me forward. “How many pills did they give you?” he asks.
“Two,” I answer. I stare off into space, holding up two index fingers trying to count. “There was one white one and two blue ones.”
“That’s three.” Sophie corrects me as she holds the cabin front door open wide for us, and I pass over the threshold with Noah.
“I think we can agree she had more than enough for all of us,” Axl quips as he hangs back, waiting for us to get through the door. His hands are filled with all our bags, since he was the only one not preoccupied with getting me into the cabin.
Sophie comes up on the other side of me, helping Noah guide me to the couch in the center of the room. She speaks in a soft voice, “I think she needs to rest until some of these meds wear off.”
“I’m not tired.” I zigzag a medicated index finger at her, and I giggle when I realize it no longer hurts to do that. I do it again because I can.
Sophie gestures for me to walk forward, coaxing me like a toddler who just figured out how to walk. “Just lay down and take a little rest. When you wake up, we’ll have some food ready.”
Her tone is so soothing that, despite the fact I’m wide awake, I slide my feet toward her. “I feel fine.” I plop down on the couch, stretching out. Before I can utter another word, Noah has a flannel blanket swaddled around me. As he tucks it tight around my stomach, I grab his hand and let out a series of giggles, squealing, “That tickles.”
“Close your eyes.” He sounds hot when he says that, so I listen. Not before I pat the top of his head twice, like he’s some domesticated animal. His hair is soft, and it brings more ocean waves . . .
Now that my eyes are closed, I visualize his floating head. He’s handsome with his dreamy dark eyes and his plump pouty lips that look so kissable.
Of course, I observe how soft they look.
Wait a second . . .
Am I sleeping or am I talking?
Oh, and did he say if I upgrade the ski plan, we can kiss? I vaguely remember something about that option. The details are fairly opaque.
My thoughts garble together in wave-like patterns.
Or maybe I’m speaking out loud?
Who knows.
Kissing might be nice.
“I need to upgrade to the kissing plan,” I say, the words oozing from my mouth as I drift into my dreams.