Chapter 7
Iwant to kiss him right here and now. Riley is my very best friend. The one person I’ve let stay close to me, and I haven’t seen her in months. Words are evading me as I stand halfway in Reid’s arms, staring up at him.
“I figured it’d be nice to surprise you! She flew into Bozeman a few days ago and has been hanging out in Yellowstone. She was going to camp up there another night but I figured you’d like to see her tonight instead. She should be here after dinner.”
It’s challenging to hold in my squeal. Seeing Riley is exactly what I need right now, and I can’t believe Reid kept it from me. Secretly, I’m glad that he did—the surprise is worth it.
“We’re gonna have her sleep here?” I can’t hide the disgust in my voice.
“She got the two of you a hotel room. I figured you’d sleep there, but if you wanna cozy up in an old raft, have at it, I guess.
” The corner of his mouth is pulling up as if it were attached to a string.
It keeps rising higher and higher, making his amusement evident.
His pearly white teeth are on full display now.
My eyes roll back. Obviously, I want the hotel room. I feel so guilty about it though. We haven’t even spent a singular night on the road yet, and I’m already jonesing for fresh sheets and hotel robes? How pathetic.
Reid’s staring deep into my eyes as if he can see my inner turmoil.
His pupils dilate as he completes his scan of my face.
I avert my eyes—hide myself from this perception.
He always sees too much, much more than he lets on.
“Addie, it’s okay if you wanna sleep in a real bed. No one blames you for that.”
They probably would care if they knew. Blair always gets hotels, and people judge her for that. I know I do. It always feels like she’s somehow better than us when she rolls up to the track with perfectly slicked back hair and stain-free riding pants. I don’t want to be like that.
Effortless cool girl has always been my aspiration, but I can’t get rid of the side of myself that likes nice things. I guess the apple doesn’t fall too far from the tree after all. Burying my face into the sleeve of my fleece jacket, I lean against the back of the van.
How am I going to make it all season on the road if I’m already succumbing to a hotel on day one?
Riley is from a rich family too, and she has no qualms about using that money to her advantage.
She’s effortless and cool without even trying.
Her long, honey blonde hair always falls in easy waves as it cascades down her shoulders.
Riley always looks like she’s starring in a Free People commercial, and I mean that in the best way.
I’ve always been envious of her. The way she’s unapologetically herself, how she sticks flowers in her hair and literally frolics through meadows.
Her beauty isn’t only on the outside either.
Truly, she is one of the most loving people I have ever met, even if she’s a little clueless sometimes.
Much like Reid, I’m not sure she has ever experienced anxiety—even a twinge of it.
She’s wild and free. It’s exactly what I need right now.
Reid gently runs his hands across my upper back, and his touch spreads warmth through me. I resist the urge, just barely, to lean into his touch like a damn cat. I’m greedy for more contact.
I catch him glancing longingly at the bonfire full of people. It may be my nightmare, but it’s his daydream. I owe it to him to try my best tonight.
It’s time to face the music. Specifically, it’s time to face the reggae. It’s streaming out of one of the vans in the corner. My upper lip quivers, and I bite down on it lightly before Reid gets a chance to see it.
“Don’t worry, Blondie. We’ll meet her at the bar. I just want to introduce you to someone first.”
That nickname always makes my stomach flip, even though I hate it.
It always sounds a bit derogatory. Plus, I’ve only ever see him go for redheads or brunettes.
Logically, I know that my hair color won’t change anything.
I could dye my hair brown tomorrow and it won’t make him magically fall for me.
That doesn’t mean I haven’t considered it, though.
Admittedly, I’m glad we’re going to a bar. I’m not usually much of a drinker, but something about the wild west makes me want to shake my ass in some skimpy outfit. This urge may have been brought on by my recent foray into cowboy romance books—I really can’t be sure.
Unfortunately, I left my boots at home. I’m sad about it.
They wouldn’t fit in my limited van wardrobe, and they aren’t very practical—baby pink, and not my usual style at all.
But secretly, I love them. Riley gave them to me one Christmas and I swear she infused a bit of her carefree attitude into them.
I don’t even like country music, but that summer when I visited her in California, we saw a random band.
That was one of my favorite nights ever—pretending to be a girl who didn’t care what anyone thought about her, wearing pink cowboy boots and daisy dukes.
I think about it sometimes when I need some levity.
Reid grabs my hand and loops it through his own.
He’s beaming ear to ear the closer we get to the little bonfire in the corner of the parking lot.
I fight the urge to hide in Willa all night long.
I’m ashamed—not for being high maintenance, or for my lack of a cool girl attitude, but for the fact that I’m bashing a place that Reid clearly loves.
As we approach, I do my best to let myself melt into the music. I hear the tail end of a stereotypical reggae song, and I want to roll my eyes again. Of course these guys are listening to ‘Woooahh amber is the color of your energy.’
Rusty lawn chairs are gathered in a haphazard circle around a miniature fire pit.
It looks exactly like where lifties go to regenerate each summer.
The sun hasn’t quite set yet. It’s a soft sort of yellow, like the center of a daisy.
All of the guys have the same aesthetic.
Layers and layers of—likely unwashed—baggy tees and flannels.
A less clean version of my own outfit, recycled over and over again.
They look happy though, and they might be onto something.
The more I listen to the beat of the music, the more my shoulders drop a little.
Reid gives two guys a full double-armed hug, and suddenly I’m jealous of these river rats.
“Stoked to see you man. And who is this beauty?” one of them asks as he hands me a beer.
I can’t tell if he’s trying to be nice or what, but people do not usually refer to me as a beauty. I’m curious how Reid will introduce me. We’ve never been in this situation before.
Reid puts both of his hands on either side of my waist and pushes me forward an inch like he’s presenting me. Is he trying to set me up with this degenerate?
“This is Addie.” He smiles.
Removing Reid’s hands from my waist, I step back. “Nice to meet you,” I say, pausing for him to fill in his name, but he just stares at me.
“This is Kai,” Reid says, answering for him. Then he motions to the other guy. “And this is Maverick.”
Instantly, I recognize Kai from the pictures Reid has taped up in his room. He looks exactly the same—wearing baggy clothes with a beer in his hand.
Beer is my last choice of beverage. I’d even take hard Kombucha over this watery wheat, but I drink it anyway. It tastes exactly like it’s been sitting in the back of a humid van. My nerves are absolutely fried, and I’m not sure how much more I can take.
I pick the chair in the corner that looks like it’s the least rusted, and I plop myself down. It creaks more than a chair should. The last thing I need is to draw attention to myself right now.
My phone feels like it’s whispering to me to pick it up.
I want to text Riley and see how far she is, but I settle for checking her location instead.
She’s still in Yellowstone by the looks of it.
The pass between Yellowstone and Jackson is pretty sketchy, and I hate that she’ll be driving at night.
Maybe she’s already on her way down into the valley and her location just hasn’t updated. Service can be spotty out here.
The conversation around me is flying. Reid is having the time of his life. He’s on his second beer, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen him smile this much. Damien isn’t really the smiling type, and Reid tends to match the energy of those around him. Maybe this is his true form.
If that’s the case, no wonder he doesn’t want me. I’m too uptight.
They’re talking about raft guiding and the interesting tourists they’ve encountered.
The snake river is pretty intense, so I’m absolutely shocked that random tourists are going down it on a Tuesday, but they are, and it honestly sounds hilarious.
I want to jump in, but I can’t seem to find an opening.
“Yeah man. I had to start paying for Duolingo. I can’t understand these people, and they can’t understand me. It’s so fucking sketchy,” Kai laments.
“How many languages are you gonna learn? I never knew you as the bookish type.”
“I’m working on the basic commands in Spanish, German, French and Japanese right now.”
Reid sits back, clearly in shock, as he takes in the level of passion Kai has for this. It shocks me too. I’m regretting how fast I was to judge him as a degenerate just from the cigarette holes in his clothes. I still don’t want to hook up with him though.
Before I can craft my reply, they’ve moved on.
Maverick says this time, “I don’t know man. I prefer the pow in Jackson.”
“Yeah, yeah, me too. But the tourists are so much less annoying in Colorado,” Kai replies.
“True. I guess they are a bit less demanding. Unless you’re in Aspen.”
Reid sits there taking it all in. His shoulders are resting against the edge of the folding chair. The glass beer bottle is pressed up against his lips.
Truthfully, It’s fascinating to hear more about the dynamics behind the scenes of these resorts.
Seasonal workers always seem so happy and free.
They get unlimited access to whatever activity they’re leading and that’s typically enough to keep them around, even if they’re devastatingly poor.
Apparently, my judgment of this type of person is hereditary, even though I wish it wasn’t.
The chair creaks again as my back hits the cold metal, and I take a deep breath. This time I trust it to catch my weight, and I finally speak.