Chapter Twenty
JENSEN
THEN—TWO YEARS AGO
AUGUST
This.
This is a top five moment of my entire life—which says a lot, considering the best happened just six days ago. The day Alley became my wife.
I look around, taking it all in. It’s quiet.
My arm’s draped around Alley’s—no, my wife’s—shoulder. The corners of my mouth pull upward as that thought settles in.
My wife.
Shit. I’m fucking married.
A full-blown grin spreads across my face. So far, so good. These last few days have been some of the best. But right now? I don’t even know how to describe it.
Alley called it breathtaking and indescribable. And well, I’ve never been great with words, but a few come to mind: magical, incredible, unbelievable.
Alley shifts closer, resting her head in the crook of my arm. Colors stretch wide across the sky, clouds hovering just below the mountain peaks. The sun burns low to the left, promising another perfect day.
It’s fucking beautiful—almost spiritual, though I’m no expert in that department. But if anything fits the word, it’s this. People are talking around us, but only in soft whispers, like we’re on sacred ground.
I bring the mug of hot coffee to my lips, savoring the rich flavor as it warms my tongue and slides down my throat. A blanket stretches across our laps, and I sniff against the brisk morning air, my nose running.
The only thing killing the moment is my knee. It’s been throbbing for the last hour, despite wrapping it tight before we started the two-hour hike up Mt. Batur.
Setting my coffee down on the makeshift bench, I reach for my phone to snap a few pictures. Moving to use both hands, Alley sits up and stretches, her arms extending toward the sky as she lets out a long exhale, her breath visible in the cold air.
“Not too many,” she says, glancing at my phone. “It’ll take you out of the moment. You’ll blink and it’ll be gone.”
Grinning, I put my phone down, slide my arm back around her shoulder and pull her in for a kiss.
Our lips meet, and the contrast of her warm skin against the cold on my face makes me want to get lost in her mouth right here.
Right now. But I force myself to pull back.
She’s right. We’ll blink, and this will be gone.
I slide my hand from her shoulder to her thigh, finding her hand and wrapping it in mine, our fingers weaving together.
“This is the coolest thing I’ve ever done,” I say, voice low, almost a whisper. “Aside from marrying you.” I nudge her shoulder with mine.
“I know,” she whispers back. “I don’t want it to end.” She glances out over the view. “I’m actually dreading the hike back down. Do you think we could call a helicopter to come get us?” A soft laugh slips from her lips.
I chuckle, my knee silently agreeing. “God, that’d be great.”
The hike was steep. Straight up, and unlike any hike I’ve ever done.
The ground was soft—dirt or maybe volcanic ash, I’m not sure—sinking under your feet with every step.
Rocky, too. Half of it was giant steps up jagged rocks, then planting your foot in soft sand that just slides back down.
Basically, every goddamn step took twice the effort, and with my knee barking at me, it was fucking brutal.
Now, the thought of going back down freaks me the fuck out. I can only imagine those giant steps, the uneven ground—jarring in the worst way.
I take another sip of coffee, realizing I’m just about finished as coffee grounds start making their way into my mouth. The coffee’s different here—delicious, but not what I’m used to. Every cup has grounds at the bottom, and I seem to forget every day until I hit them and have to spit them out.
Bali’s been incredible, easily one of the coolest places I’ve ever been.
Totally different from my usual Europe trips or long weekends in the States.
The people are amazing—friendly, humble, and easy to talk to.
I’ve never been to a developing country like this before, and honestly, it’s been eye-opening in the best way.
I could definitely live here for a few months out of the year.
Our morning started dark and early, at 12:30 a.m. Our driver, Wayan, picked us up and drove us to the base of the hike, getting us there by 2:30. So, I’m tired as hell, but worth it.
My stomach flips and rumbles.
Fuck. I have to shit.
I glance around, even though I know damn well there aren’t any bathrooms up here. You’re on top of a volcano, dumbass. And at least two hours away from any kind of relief. Great.
This should be fun. The coffee’s running straight through me.
I’ve had a few of these moments since we got here—hunting down questionable spots to take care of business.
I’ve even given in and taken a few of Alley’s activated charcoal pills she packed after doing all her research.
I thought they were hokey as hell, but I’ll admit, they work.
“Babe,” I say as quietly as possible, breaking the silence.
“Hmm?”
A grin tugs at my mouth. “I have to shit.”
A laugh bursts out of her, and she quickly covers her mouth with her hand. “Oh my God. Shocker!”
I glance over, catching that beautiful smile, her dimple deepening. God, I love her.
“Yeah, that’s not happening,” she says, shaking her head before turning to meet my eyes. “Good luck with that. You’re gonna have to hold it.”
“Yeah, I know.” I sigh, rubbing a hand over my stomach. I swear to God, every time we’re somewhere without a bathroom, this happens—fast and fucking terrifying.
She unzips her belt bag. “I have an activated charcoal. You want one?”
“Can’t hurt at this point.” I hold out my hand, and she drops a pill into it.
I look at my empty cup, realizing all that’s left is sludge. “Shit. You got any coffee left?” I ask, knowing full well another sip might make this worse—but desperate times.
She hands me her mug, and I gulp down the pill, praying it’ll help—because I’ve got the full-blown shit scaries, and it’s a problem.
My hand drifts to my knee, rubbing at the ache.
“Your knee hurting again?”
“Yeah. It’s acting up.” I wince. “You don’t have anything in your bag, do you?”
“No.” She frowns. “I left the ibuprofen back at the hotel. You gonna be okay?”
“Yeah. I’ll be fine.” I wave her off, even though the pain is sharp enough to make me grit my teeth.
“You really need to get that checked out.”
“I know. But it only hurts when I overdo it. Hasn’t even hurt on basketball nights lately.”
Honestly, it hasn’t hurt much over the past few months. The last time it was this bad was those few weeks after that ski trip. After I was a complete jackass and got so drunk I made my fiancée question her life choices—made her question me.
I’ve been careful since then, only having two, maybe three drinks.
Just enough to catch a good buzz—never more.
I drink to relax and loosen up, not to forget.
I’m not like her dad. I’ve never met the guy though, so I don’t really know why he drinks.
I guess alcoholics don’t always need a reason. They just do. I’ve never understood it.
She’s been talking about her dad a lot this week, bringing him up here and there. Telling me stories I’ve never heard before. It’s like she misses him, maybe even regrets not having him at our wedding. And that makes me sad for her.
I can’t imagine not having, or wanting, my parents there on the biggest day of my life. It was the best day ever. Not sharing that with them? Not having them see me that happy? I can’t wrap my head around that.
Damn. I’d have to hold some serious resentment to do that to them. Which tells me just how deep this cuts Alley, because she’s nicer than I am. Better than me, in so many ways.
“Well, we can take it slow on the way down. Just promise me you’ll rest if you need a break,” she says, concern in her voice.
“Promise,” I say, giving her hand a gentle squeeze.
Twenty peaceful minutes pass, with only the occasional quiet exchange between us as we talk about plans for the day.
A trail guide’s voice slices through the now chatty crowd, their voices soft and reverent. It’s time to head back down. I look around one last time, committing this to memory, and steel myself for the long trek down. Every fucking step is going to suck.
The sound of Alley’s toothbrush muffles through the bathroom wall as I pull my swimsuit up and over my ass.
After that tumultuous hike down this morning and the long drive back, all I want is a lazy pool day.
Soak up the sun, swim in salt water, sit in the sauna—rest my fucking knee.
Every step was killer, and I grimaced the whole way.
Still, it was cool, even with the pain—steam rising from the volcano, and little shithead monkeys everywhere you looked.
I chuckle to myself. The monkeys are assholes.
They’ll snatch anything loose right out of your hand if you’re not paying attention, but they’re cool as hell at the same time.
Some even look old, wise beyond their years.
They’re all over the resort grounds, too.
If you leave a patio door open, you’ll find one inside, digging through your shit.
Alley steps out of the bathroom in her string bikini, turning to bend over her suitcase, shuffling through it for something.
My eyes drop to her ass, zeroing in on the tiny bottoms slicing up her backside. This is more than a cheeky cut, and my dick twitches in my shorts.
I love seeing this side of Alley. She’s always been naturally reserved, but slowly, over time, she’s gotten riskier with me—braver, trying new things. She’s learning not to give a fuck, and I love that I’m the one she lets in. The one who gets to help her feel confident in her skin.
We’re perfect for each other. I don’t say that lightly, either. We’re like a zipper—perfectly aligned, needing both sides to come together to be something. She brings out the best in me. And I’d like to think I do the same for her.