Chapter 21
CADE
The first evening we stopped at the Grand Canyon, enjoying the view as the sun set below the peaks.
The sky was bathed in orange at the horizon, and as the sun made its descent, the rocks all around me turned to bruised violet.
Even Echo sat calmly by my side, evidently as transfixed by our surroundings as I was.
It was a breathtaking, life-changing kind of sight.
The next morning we got our start early, checking out of the cheap dog-friendly roadside motel and heading towards Arches National Park in Utah.
When we arrived I picked a hike with a medium level of strenuousness, perfect for Echo and me.
As I worked up a sweat and marveled at the red-rock scenery, my thoughts floated to Brooke.
I pictured her in her scrubs, tending to a tiny newborn. My heart squeezed with longing.
Just a couple more days.
After Arches I picked up my travel pace, eager to reach my destination. I opted to drive through the scenic Red Rock Amphitheater in Colorado rather than get out and hike.
Most of my time after that was spent on the open road, alone with my thoughts.
I drove through corn fields in Iowa and northern Illinois, listening to my playlist and drumming my fingers on the wheel.
This journey felt like a new beginning. Training for a new part of my career, being closer to Brooke—things were moving in the right direction.
Four days after leaving San Diego, Echo and I arrived in Birch Hollow. Since I was used to my tiny apartment, it always struck me how much room we had to spread out at my parents’ place.
The place was essentially mine for a couple months, so I took over the master bedroom and bathroom. My parents had made some renovations to their bathroom, including a steam shower with a rainfall head, which would be a significant upgrade to my sometimes-working water pressure back in California.
My phone rang and Brooke’s contact photo appeared on the screen, the selfie of her and Maple she’d taken at my request.
“Well? Did you make it?”
I flipped the camera, panning across the roosters and sending her a pic. “You tell me,” I chuckled.
She squealed. “Gah, you’re really back! East Coast, baby!
” Her enthusiasm was infectious. We decided to have a phone date that night, from our respective homes.
We popped popcorn and drank Pepsi and stayed on the phone while we watched 10 Things I Hate About You.
It was the best date I’d had in a long time.
When I called Brooke Friday evening, she was getting ready for her shift. “And where is the fine lady taking me tomorrow?” I asked in a jovial tone. Brooke had insisted she wanted to be the one to plan our first official date, since it would be taking place in “her” city.
“New England Aquarium. Thought you might be missing the ocean life. Then Fenway—did you know the Red Sox are playing some team called the Blue Jays?” I could hear her cheeky grin through the phone.
“Wow, B. Pulling out all the stops.” I beamed at my phone. “Sounds perfect.”
Brooke had taken me up on the hint I’d dropped during her birthday party, and we were finally going to try going on real dates, alternating our locations between Boston and Birch Hollow.
I got up early the next day to make the drive to Boston. I kissed Brooke’s cheek when I picked her up and tugged gently on her thick side braid.
She looked comfortable and beautiful—and happy. I couldn’t get enough of that.
At the aquarium, I held her hand as we walked, only dropping it when absolutely necessary.
My teenage self was trying to tamp down the explosion of inner joy at being out on a real date with the one-and-only Brooke Meadows.
As we walked around the Giant Ocean Tank, we took in the moray eels, stingrays, and sea turtles.
I tugged Brooke aside to a dark corner, stealing a kiss before we went to the open-air part of the building to see the marine mammals.
For half an hour we took goofy selfies in front of the sea lions.
Brooke pointed to a placard. “They’re from California, too,” she told me, eyes full of humor. Just then a sea lion came up to Brooke and planted a kiss on her cheek. She broke into giggles as its whiskers tickled her face.
“Hey now,” I chastised the animal. “That’s my move.”
After, we had lunch at the cafe that looked out over the Boston Harbor. I was starting to see why she liked this city.
My heart really revved up when we drove to Fenway Park. Despite my team’s longstanding rivalry with the Sox, I had to admit, this was a bucket-list level stadium to visit. When we parked, I stopped Brooke from getting out immediately and instead reached into my back seat.
“First, we must fix our attire,” I intoned seriously. She was wearing cute cutoff denim shorts, a plain white top, and white high-top Converse. I pulled out two Blue Jays jerseys. We hopped out of the car, each with a jersey in hand.
I knew we’d be out of place in a sea of Red Sox fans, but I got a thrill seeing her slip on the oversized jersey, the jersey for my team. She left it unbuttoned in the front, letting her plain white top peek through.
“Okay?” She sought my approval.
“More than okay.” I beamed down at her. I topped her head with a Blue Jays cap. “Now you’re perfect.”
She threw me a grin. I slipped off my shirt to don my own jersey, and I didn’t miss her appreciative look when suddenly my chest and abs were on full display. She even bit her lip.
Yeah, Brooke was into this.
I felt a swell of pride. I worked hard at my job and at surfing, and playing softball and training with Echo had toned my physique nicely. I was proud of it.
The game was a blast. We split a Fenway Frank and each got popcorn and Slush Puppie frozen drinks. By the seventh-inning stretch, we were giddy from the sugar and loudly singing along to “Take Me Out to the Ballgame” with our entire row.
After the game, we walked to the car hand-in-hand. When we found our parking spot, I leaned her back against the car and encroached on her space. I spun my cap around and leaned down, my lips inches from hers.
“I can’t get enough of you, Brooke Meadows,” I told her, my voice raspy as I captured her lips between mine. She eagerly met my lips with hers.
“You’re everything,” I said into her mouth, catching her breathy little moans and swallowing them.
I slid my hands into the back pockets of her shorts and squeezed, drawing her into me even tighter.
Her fingers twisted in the strands of hair at the nape of my neck, under the brim of my backwards cap.
I wanted her, desperately, but I also wanted to take my time with her. Brooke Meadows wasn’t the kind of girl I could have for just one night, and I planned to show her that this summer.
Reluctantly, I broke our kiss.
“Do you want to come back with me?” she asked, a shy smile on her face.
“I wish I could—you have no idea—but I need to get back for Echo. But I want you to come to Vermont next weekend. Please.”
I locked eyes with hers, seeking to put confidence in her mind when it came to how steadfast I planned to be.
This thing between us was real, and I wasn’t letting her slip from my life again.