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afternoon. It’s an adorable boxy white stucco house, standing out starkly against the desert landscape. I release a happy breath, glad to be out of a hotel room and back in a place that feels like a home. We’ll be in an Airbnb in Sedona, too.
“How many bedrooms this time, Shep?” Theo asks as I pull the van into the driveway edged with red rock gravel.
Unimpressed, I reply, “Three.”
I checked after the Zion snafu. And once Theo and I started sleeping together, checked again.
He tosses me a wink that I catch in the air and pretend to flick out the window, but that only amuses him further, his dimple carving deep into his cheek. Behind us, Paul chuckles. We’ve kept things normal around him, but I can’t help but think he’s playing chicken with us. Theo told me earlier that he suspected Paul was awake when he snuck back into their hotel room this morning.
The thought of what we did last night—the sex, and the movie after it— has my body and heart pulsing in tandem.
Pushing that thought aside for now, I thread my arm through Paul’s as we walk inside. The house is gorgeous and a bit of a splurge; it has soft white walls and wood-beam ceilings, with windows all along the back of the house that look out onto a wide patio and, beyond that, a valley surrounded by majestic red and pink buttes. The sunsets must be unreal.
“Don’t worry, I got the bags.” Theo’s dry statement from the front door is punctuated by two thumps.
“Awesome!” I call back, grinning over at Paul, who laughs and pats my hand.
We explore the rest of the house together while Theo goes to the grocery store to grab food for dinner.
The backyard extends well past the patio, and we spend some time poking around back there, attempting to identify all the different plants, which sends Paul into a fifteen-minute monologue about the plants he’s got his eye on for his own backyard. His excitement is so adorable that I could listen to him all night, but eventually we head inside. I insist that Paul take the master bedroom, mainly because he’s Paul. Even though he and Theo have been happily sharing a room this whole trip, I want him to be comfortable.
But it doesn’t hurt that the remaining bedrooms are on the other side of the house.
“Oh, I couldn’t take this,” he says, his eyes roaming around the large room, which also has an en suite bathroom.
“Of course you can, and you will. You’re the guest of honor on this trip.”
He turns to me, pulling me tight against his side. “No, sweetheart, that’s you. It’s been years since Theo and I have traveled together, and you made it happen. I owe you the world for letting me have this time with him.” He smiles. “And with you.”
I have nothing to say that won’t end in me ugly crying, so I pull him into a proper hug instead.
The front door opens and closes, but it’s been too long since I’ve had a hug like this—still strong but softened with age, with a whiff of old-school cologne—so I don’t step out of Paul’s embrace, even when Theo’s footsteps stop in the doorway.
“Is she okay?”
When I pull back, I see the stricken look on his face. It wipes clean when he sees that I’m, in fact, just fine.
“Just having a tender moment.” I nudge Paul gently, my chest aching from that hug and Theo’s concern. “What’d you get us at the store?”
Theo’s gaze lingers on me, then Paul, and I swear longing flashes in his eyes. But he blinks and it’s gone. “I picked up steak and vegetables. We can grill it all together.”
Once we’ve prepped everything in the kitchen, Paul stays behind to get the potatoes going. Meanwhile, I follow Theo to the grill, which is already heated up.
I set up my skewer station and get to work while Theo throws the steaks on the grill. They hiss, and for a minute, it’s the only sound between us. Even the world surrounding us seems hushed, waiting for something.
Finally, Theo asks, “You okay, really? You looked a little . . .” He trails off, appraising me.
I spear a zucchini slice, then an onion, adding them to the skewer. I’ve made four in record time. “I can’t wait to hear what word you land on.”
He rolls his eyes. “You looked like you were trying too hard to be . . . not upset.”
“I wasn’t upset.” I hand him the plate with my picture-perfect veggies. “Just achy, I guess. It’s been a while since I’ve had a grandparent hug. Paul’s been filling a big void for me.”
“You can borrow him anytime, you know. Even after we get back.” He places the skewers on the grill, careful not to meet my surprised gaze. “Separate from me, I mean.”
“Oh.” I don’t know what to say. The thought of having a relationship with Paul without having something with Theo feels . . . incomplete. But Theo clearly wants me to know that our arrangement won’t impact my relationship with his granddad once we get home. “I—”
“He really cares about you,” Theo blurts, poking at the steaks. “I’m sure he’d love to keep seeing you when all of this is over. Even outside of telling you about him and Kat.”
“He’s become one of my favorite people, so I’d love that, too.” I wish I could admit to the other things I want. It feels way too big for what we’ve
agreed to, wanting to see Theo when we get home. Wanting to be with him. Date him.
The realization sinks into my stomach like ice: god, I really do want to date Theo Spencer. Eighteen-year-old me would be shaken to her core right now, but I like him, and I think, given the chance, I’d continue to like him. Maybe until it turned into something else.
Theo looks at me, his jaw ticking. His expression is searching, but he stays quiet. The tension between us grows tight, that thread between us pulling until it hurts.
I look down, heart racing as I pick up a cherry tomato, until the moment passes us by. “So, you wouldn’t loan me your AP Lit notes senior year, but you’ll loan me your granddad?”
A surprised laugh huffs out of his mouth. “You would’ve edged me out on that midterm—”
“I actually did.”
“But there’s no chance you’ll take my number one spot with Granddad.” Gauntlet thrown. “You know I’m going to try now, right?”
“Why do you think I said it? I know you.” It hits me when he says that; he does. He grins, seeing the realization on my face. “I want to see you try, Shepard.”
I snort. “Why, so you can see me fail?”
“No.” He sets down his tongs, facing me. Above us, the sky is starting to darken. The clouds are turning pink, painting Theo’s face in the sweetest, softest light. I miss him already, his singular attention, the way he looks at me. “Because I’m pretty sure you’d tie for first.”
He has to know what that does to me, to hear it, to know I could be in Paul’s life like that someday. His faint smile tells me he does.
All of my feelings bubble up my throat, but I don’t get a chance to say anything, and maybe it’s for the best. Theo doesn’t check to see if Paul’s still in the kitchen before he leans down and presses his mouth to mine. I inhale, surprised, but he doesn’t push it beyond the grazing of our lips, the brush of his nose against mine.
But Theo touching me—Theo doing anything—ignites my blood, so I grab a handful of his shirt and yank him to me. He laughs against my mouth, cupping my cheek so he can tilt my head for a better angle.
As with everything we do, it quickly turns intense, and Theo’s amusement turns into an urgency I can taste. He wraps an arm around my waist, his hand fitting over the curve of my ass to pull me tight to him. I groan when I feel him growing hard, and his fingers tighten in my hair.
“Not the hair move,” I complain.
He grins, kissing me so thoroughly my eyes cross, then squeezes my ass.
Hard.
“You’re an asshole,” I pant against his mouth. “I hope you’re hard all through dinner. I hope you watch me eating that dick-shaped skewer and it tortures you, because all I’m going to be thinking about is what time you’re going to sneak into my room so I can tease you until you’re begging for it. Then I’ll hold out some more.”
His shoulders start shaking under my arms and then he’s laughing too hard to kiss me properly, so he pulls me into a crushing hug instead, pressing his smile into my neck.
“You are such a menace, Noelle Shepard,” he murmurs, his voice thick with amusement. “What am I going to do with you?”
“I can think of a few things off the top of my head,” I say silkily. He growls, “I can, too.”
Suddenly music is pumping out into the evening air. Theo and I spring apart.
“I found a stereo!” Paul calls. “Can you hear the music?”
“Uh, yeah,” Theo calls back, his kiss-flushed mouth pulling up at the corners. “It’s raging out here.”
“What?” comes Paul’s reply.
“Jesus,” Theo mutters, shaking his head. He flips the steaks and skewers with a proficiency that’s just as hot as the way he grabbed my ass, then takes me by the hand and pushes me away from the grill.
I resist, stretching my arm back toward it. “The food—”
“Can wait.” He takes my outstretched arm and threads it around his neck, smiling when I follow with my other arm, my fingers winding into his hair. He circles his arms around my waist, his expression a dizzying mixture of stern and playful.
And then we’re dancing. He holds me close for a few beats, and I let his body guide the movements of mine. God, we’re good at this.
He either has Paul radar or he wants to douse the attraction that’s arcing between us; he pushes me back right before Paul walks out with a serving dish.
I laugh as Theo spins me with the most beautiful smile on his face, then turn to Paul to make some pithy comment about his grandson’s rhythm (which is actually phenomenal). But Paul’s gaze is fastened on Theo, his face lit up with joy so intense he almost looks anguished.
The moment has nothing to do with me, but it still stirs emotion in my chest. The love between these two men heals something in me, just as much as it tears me apart.
The ache in my chest recedes as we sit down for dinner, when Theo slides his hand over my thigh under the table.
And later, when I look up at the sky, I swear I see a star winking down at me.
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bends and curves carved out of massive red-hued rocks at Lake Powell. Theo drives our rented speedboat, sometimes racing over the deep blue water, sometimes puttering. He stops whenever Paul or I ask so that we can take photos, and we tuck ourselves into a less-busy section of the lake to eat lunch.
Paul digs into his bag with one hand once we’ve finished, holding up a finger with the other. “How about a letter? I forgot to give it to you two this morning.”
“Yes!” I practically shout, diving out of my seat to get to Paul. He leans over with a quiet laugh and hands it to me. I run my thumb over the folded paper. No matter how many of these I read, I’ll always crave more. “I feel like we’re running out of time to hear the whole story. We only have . . .” Saying the number out loud is a finger against my bubble, so I don’t. “We don’t have a lot of time left together.”
Some magnetic force in my body recognizes Theo’s energy as he stands behind me. I sway back into him, letting my shoulder rest against his chest. I can blame it on the lake rocking us.
Paul eyes us, an inscrutable look on his face. “Why don’t we make a deal?”
“Okay.”
“We’ll get through as much as we can over the next three days”—his expression softens when I wince—“but there’s no need to rush it. You’ve enjoyed reading your gram’s words, haven’t you?”
“So much,” I say thickly. “I knew a lot about her, but only through the lens of my own life, if that makes sense. Getting to know this part of her— her story with you—is like meeting her all over again.” My throat tightens, and Theo’s hand curls around my hip briefly, squeezing. “I just want every detail, you know? So I can keep feeling that.”
Paul nods, understanding lighting his blue eyes. “The story will come.
Let’s do what we can here, and I’ll tell you the rest when we get home.”
A sense of foreboding gathers in my stomach. “I mean, I know the ending, but is it going to be bad?”
His expression softens. “Oh, Noelle, no. It’s life. Some of it may be painful, but it’s not bad, sweetheart. You and Theo standing here are living proof of that.”
I nod, my throat too tight to speak now. Theo releases a breath, stirring the hair at my neck.
Paul winks. “That’s our deal, all right? The story doesn’t have to end when this trip does.”
His words sink into me, pulling relief I didn’t even know I needed to the surface. Suddenly my bubble feels unbreakable. Timeless. I could stretch
this story out for months if I wanted to. Get access to everything I’m craving: Gram’s secret, Paul’s friendship. Theo.
“It’s a deal.”
“Why don’t you two read the letter, and I’ll start us out nice and slow?” “You’re going to drive the boat?” Theo asks dubiously.
“Better than you could, too,” Paul replies with a dimple-popping grin. “Don’t forget who taught you how to drive one, Teddy.”
I look over my shoulder, eyebrow raised, to see Theo’s eyes roll. But he’s grinning, the twin of Paul’s. He’s been looking happier the past few days; checking his quiet phone less, smiling more easily.
His hand traces down my forearm until his fingers tangle with mine. He tugs at my hand. “Come on, let’s read this while Elder Speedracer’s behind the wheel.”
We settle into our seats, and I hold the letter up so we can read together. Theo’s skin is warm with the scent of sunscreen and whatever level-ten potent pheromones he’s constantly giving off.
I blink down at the letter, forcing myself to concentrate on Gram’s handwriting instead.
April 2, 1957
Dear Paul,
I miss my mother. You’ll probably think it’s silly since I talked to her on the phone just yesterday. I miss her because I can’t tell her all the things I want to say about you. I used to tell her everything. She’d want to know I was in love, wouldn’t she? But if I told her, she’d go straight to my father.
I don’t regret my decision to keep this from them. It’s what has to be done, and the past few months with you have truly been perfect. But it makes me feel very far away from them. What will happen when school’s over and I have to tell them? Who will I lose? I don’t want to lose you, and I don’t want to lose them. I’m still searching
for a way to ensure this ends happily. I know there must be an answer.
Please tell me it will be okay no matter what.
All my love, Your Kat
At the bottom of the page is someone else’s handwriting. It must be Paul’s.
It will be okay. No matter what.
“I feel the bad news coming,” I say as the boat gains speed. “I know what happens, I know there’s no way to stop it, but I want to anyway.”
“Yeah.” Theo’s sigh is heavy. I look over just as his troubled expression smooths out. “She felt stuck. Like no choice was a good one.”
His voice goes quiet at the end, and there’s a familiarity there.
My camera is on the other side of the boat; I wish I had it so I could take a picture of him and show it to him later. Even if he feels stuck right now, my shot would show the miles of space surrounding him. The red rocks curving all around, the water below us, and the clear blue sky stretching endlessly above us. The sunlight glinting down on his hair, on his skin, making him golden.
I’d show it to myself, too, so I could remember this moment. Somehow the choices I’ve made, whether they’ve ended up being good or bad, have all done their fateful work to put me right here for a reason.
My knee kicks out, pressing against his. He looks at where we’re touching, then at me.
“It’ll be okay,” I say.
He nods and leans back in his seat, tipping his chin toward the sky.
A plane drifts overhead. From thirty thousand feet, the roar of the engines is barely a whisper. I tilt my head back to watch, pressing the letter to my chest. Absorbing Gram’s energy and love.
There are people in that plane, living entire complicated lives I’ll never know about, while Theo and I are down here, living the same one. For now, at least.
I reach over to take Theo’s hand. His fingers tangle with mine, and I squeeze, holding on as tight as I can.
