Love In Alaska (The Love In 50 States Series Book 2) (10 page)

“I'm sorry,” I said, the half-eaten apple feeling heavy in my hand. “I didn't mean to encroach on that. At all. I just—”

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “Not what I meant. I've had a really good time with you. And I wasn't lying. I liked you on the boat, but I thought it would just be cool if we hiked out here together and I showed you around. I honestly didn't have any other plans.”

“I believe you.”

“But then everything sort of took off,” he said. “And I don't mean I'm sorry about that. I'm not. I mean...that was amazing. You're amazing.” He paused and rubbed at his beard some more. “But I know you're leaving and I'm not quite sure what to do with that. On the one hand, I'd like you to stay a little longer. It feels like I've known you forever, you know?”

I swallowed and nodded.

“But I don't want to do that for a couple of reasons,” he continued. “One, it isn't fair to ask that of you. And, two, I'm pretty sure at some point, I'm gonna throw that wall back up that keeps people away.” He looked at me. “Probably even you.”

He smiled, but it wasn't a happy one. “So even if you did stay, I couldn't guarantee you anything right now.” He laughed and shook his head. “Every time I start to think I'm through with this shit, I realize I'm still a mess.”

I spun the apple slowly in my hand, thinking about what he'd said. I appreciated his honesty, both about me and about himself. I knew what he meant about the walls and about not guaranteeing things. It was like scar tissue that builds up and has to be broken down. I knew because I had my own. But I also felt the things he was feeling. The connection to him. The fact that I wasn't really sure I was ready to say goodbye.

I swallowed again. But I'd made a promise to myself. As tempting as it was to hear him say he wanted me to stay, I didn't want to break that promise.

“I can't stay, Evan,” I said softly. “This trip...I'm doing it for a whole bunch of reasons. If I stopped now, I wouldn't get out of it what I need to get out of it. I know it sounds selfish, but I have to do this trip. I'm not going to be good for anyone until I'm done with it. And I know that sounds cryptic and weird and all that, but trust me, I know.” I paused shifting my gaze to him. “But I'm not gonna lie. All night long, I laid there in the tent, thinking maybe I should stay. If you wanted me to. Because I didn't intend on finding you here.”

“I'm not asking you to stay,” he said. “Not really. I wouldn't do that to you.”

“Thank you,” I said. “But you should know, I've thought about it. As crazy as that sounds, I've thought about it in the last twenty-four hours. That thing you said to me? About not letting opportunities pass you by? I'm worried that this might be one of those that's getting by me.”

He nodded slowly. “Yeah. I know.” He forced a smile. “So maybe we play it by ear. You keep me informed about your travels and I'll tell you where I'm flying to. Maybe I'll show up somewhere, surprise you.”

I smiled. “I don't think I'd mind that at all.”

“And when you get to the end of the road, we'll see where we're both at,” he said. “We'll just see.”

I had a moment of guilt, not telling him what my plan was in visiting the fifty states. A small part of me felt like I owed him an explanation. I wanted him to know that no matter what I did going forward, it had nothing to do with what had happened between us. In fact, I was now worried that nothing would live up to my time with him. What if I finished my journey and I came looking for him and he was gone? Or with someone else?

But I didn't tell him any of that.

I took a deep breath, trying to draw air into my constricting lungs. “Yeah,” I managed to say. “Let's see.”

THIRTEEN

We made it back into the fishing village just before dinner time. Evan grabbed some sandwiches from a small deli and we wolfed them down. I took the opportunity to use the bathroom inside and I'd never been happier to see a porcelain bowl with a flushing handle. We walked to the dock and Evan gassed up the seaplane. Before I knew it, we were airborne, heading back to Anchorage. I was grateful for the headset and the whirring of the plane's engine; it offered a good excuse to avoid talking.

It had been awkward after our conversation. We tried to talk, to find that friendly banter again, but it was gone, as if the rains had somehow washed it away. I was angry at myself for not being able to find it. I wanted to hold his hand as we walked the remainder of the trail, but he seemed distant and I felt like it was my fault, so I kept my hands to myself. As we loaded up the airplane, all I could think was that I was never going to see him again and that had me second-guessing myself.

Again.

We landed in Anchorage and he drove me back to the hotel in silence. He pulled the truck into the lot and cut the engine. His hands stayed on the steering wheel, his gaze locked on the windshield.

“Come up with me,” I said. He started to protest but I said, “I don't want to say goodbye in the stupid parking lot.”

He hesitated, then nodded. “Alright.”

We took the elevator up to my room and I threw my bag on the bed on the far side of the room.

I looked at him. “This sucks.”

He looked around. “Room seems fine to me.”

“You know what I mean.”

He sat down on the edge of the bed. “Yeah. It sucks.”

“I feel like we lost a day today,” I said. “Because things got weird.”

“I got weird,” he said. “Wasn't your fault.”

“You just said what I was thinking,” I said. “I just didn't have the guts to bring it up. The whole directness thing.” I offered a half-smile.

He looked up at me. “So stay then. Stay for like a month. Travel with me. The other states will still be there. Let me see if I can keep my walls at bay.” His eyes bore into me. “Stay.”

I looked away. This wasn't supposed to be happening. I'd toughened myself up after Alabama, been more skeptical, determined to stick to the plan. I sure has as hell hadn't planned on spending three days with a guy I didn't want to leave.

“I'd still have to leave at some point,” I pointed out. “Even in a month, I'd leave.”

“Maybe you wouldn't.”

“I would,” I said firmly. “And it has nothing to do with you. I swear. This trip is all about me.” I shook my head. “I can't explain it all.”

“Try.”

I sighed and sat down next to him. I stared at the floor for a long time, finding the patterns in the hotel room's carpet.

“Brian,” I finally said. “My ex-husband. He was the only guy I ever dated. I was literally with him my entire adult life. And somewhere in there, I lost me. Or maybe I didn't get to be me, I don't know. But the person I thought I was gonna be never happened. And ever since the divorce, I kept thinking she was going to show up. But she hasn't.” I paused. “I need to find her. And this is my way of doing it. Probably doesn't make much sense, but I made a promise to myself that I wasn't going to get sidetracked, no matter what came along. No matter
who
came along. Because I don't want to get stuck again.” I smiled. “I came here with no expectations and you've now blown them out of the water. But you know how you said you couldn't promise that those walls wouldn't come back? I can't promise I'll know how to be happy until I'm done with this trip.”

He leaned back on his hands. “I get it.”

“Do you?”

He nodded. “Yeah. I'm still closed off, even if I don't think I am. It's the same thing for me. I'm still fighting through the shit.”

“I don't think you are. Closed off, I mean.”

“Really?” he said, raising an eyebrow. “Where'd I grow up? Where did Amanda and I live? Where did I go to law school?”

I didn't say anything because I didn't know the answers.

“I'm a master at talking but not saying anything,” he said. “It's like a habit. I'm still guarded, still thinking I'll get burned again. I come off as this total optimist, but I'm not. I'm faking it.” He paused. “Even with you. I couldn't open up to you. That tells me where I'm at.” He looked at me. “So I get it. I really do. I don't like it, but I get it.”

I leaned my head on his shoulder. “We're a disaster.”

“Pretty much.”

We sat there for a few minutes, both of us lost in thought. His shoulder felt warm and I nestled against him. His arm automatically looped around me and I bit back a sigh. We just...
fit
. His hand went to my hair and his fingers caught in the tangles.

I straightened. “I need a shower.”

“Me, too.”

“Shower with me.”

The invitation hung between us. His brow furrowed. “I'm not sure I could handle that. I'm going to want you to stay. It's gonna hurt even more.”

“So stay the night,” I said recklessly. I wasn't ready to say goodbye. “I want you to.”

He shook his head. “I can't. I have to take off early in the morning and I need to get back to my place to get a bunch of stuff. So I can't.”

“Can't or won't?” I asked, stung by his answer.

“Can't,” he said. “Because, trust me, I want to. More than you know.” He gestured toward the bathroom. “Go shower. I'll wait. Maybe you can come out and seduce me and I'll fall like a house of cards.”

“You seem very resolved right now,” I said.

“Yeah, well, you in a towel would be a pretty formidable opponent,” he countered.

“Then just come in with me.”

He shook his head. “No. I'd keep you there forever. Lock the door and not let you go.”

“Maybe I'd be okay with that,” I said. “Maybe you could convince me that I'm being a total fool.”

He smiled and pointed at the bathroom. “Go shower. I'm going to take my boots off and lie back on this bed and wait for you to come out and convince me I'm an idiot.” He smiled. “Not that I need much convincing.”

I leaned down and kissed him, his beard tickling my cheek.

“I'll be fast,” I whispered.

“Take your time,” he said. “I'll be here. I can stick around for a little while before I need to go.”

I kissed him again. I was disappointed, but I understood. He was being smarter about it than I was. It was stupid to ask him to stay, pointless to prolong the goodbye. But I couldn't help it. I wasn't ready to see him walk out of my life, even if it was inevitable.

“Hey,” I said, grabbing a change of clothes from the suitcase I'd left at the hotel.

“What?”

“When I get out,” I said. “Before I seduce you. I want the answers to those questions. Because I want to know.”

He laughed and shook his head.

“I'm serious,” I said.

“I know you are,” he said. He nodded. “Okay. Deal. Answers when you get out.”

FOURTEEN

The hot water pelted my shoulders and I rolled them forward, my palms against the wall, letting the water massage my muscles and skin. I'd scrubbed my hair and body and while I'd sort of liked camping, it felt good to be clean again.

I shut off the water and stepped out onto the bath mat, wrapping the fluffy white towel around my wet body. I grabbed another towel and dried my hair with it. Then I took that towel and wiped at the mirror, trying to clear the steam.

I'd gone back and forth in the shower, thinking about what Evan said, my resolve fading. I could stay another month, I'd tried telling myself. There was nothing that said I had to move on to Arizona in a couple days. I could change my itinerary. Yeah, I'd still have to leave, but maybe he was right. Maybe I'd know everything I needed to by the end of the month. Maybe I didn't need to stick with Paige's ridiculous plan to find myself. Maybe I'd found the real me right here in the Alaskan wilderness.

I ran my fingers through my hair and readjusted the towel around my middle. I thought about putting on my underwear then decided against it.

I opened the door and a cloud of steam poured out of the bathroom. “Okay. I'm warning you right now. I've got a towel on and nothing else. Speak now or forever hold your peace.”

He didn't say anything.

“Okay,” I said walking out. “I warned—”

The room was empty.

I stood there for a moment. I looked behind me. I walked over to the other bed.

He wasn't there.

My stomach sank. I sat down on the edge of the bed, fighting back tears.

I couldn't believe he'd left.

Then I saw the piece of paper on top of my bag. It was a single piece of hotel stationary, a perfect white square.

I reached out my hand and picked it up.

And smiled.

His printing was small, neat. He'd used the hotel pen.

Jess,

I grew up in San Jose. Amanda and I lived in Manhattan Beach, just south of LA. I went to law school at USC. And I couldn't stand the thought of saying goodbye to you. So I'm chickening out. I hope I see you again, but I also hope you find what you need. Call me or email me or come find me. I'll be thinking about you and taking a sledgehammer to my walls. I promise.

E.

He'd scrawled an email address and phone number below his words. Then another phone number and Florida address with an arrow pointing to it.