Chapter Twenty-Four
Twenty-Four
Jack
“I seem to remember there being mention of dinner and a movie,” Abby huffs behind me, eyeing the wooded expanse beyond us.
I grin back at her as I continue to pull my backpack of supplies from the trunk. “Where’s your sense of adventure?”
It’s an unusually warm day for this time of year, and for that I’m grateful, since I went out on a limb while planning Abby’s and my first date.
I know it’s something I can’t see her doing for herself, but once I got the idea in my head, I couldn’t shake it.
Besides, I think the fresh air will do her some good.
She’s always cooped up in the apartment huddled over her books.
“I’m just saying,” she grumbles. “Pretty sure no one thinks they’ll need hiking boots when someone asks them out on a date.”
I peer back at her slight sulking, smiling at her lower lip, which is protruding as her arms cross over her chest. She looks stunning, even in something as simple as her fleece-lined leggings and her mauve sweater that makes her blond hair seem brighter—all the way down to the aforementioned clunky hiking boots I bought for her before I talked her into coming out to Blue Hills.
“We’ve got seven thousand acres to explore,” I tell her. “It’ll be fun.”
“Until we get lost,” she murmurs.
I sling my backpack over my shoulders, leaning in to press a kiss to her cheek. “I won’t let you get lost, lover.”
“I thought we agreed we weren’t using that term?”
“I don’t remember agreeing to anything of the sort.”
She rolls her eyes. “This is a lot of woods for me to hide your body in.”
“But you love my body,” I say with a faux gasp. “What will you do without it?”
She ignores me, taking a wary glance at the opening trail ahead of us. I can tell this isn’t something she would normally choose to do, and for that reason alone I worry that maybe I should have tried to find something else for us to do—but something about this feels right.
“I don’t think I even knew this place was here,” she admits.
“Seven thousand acres of the best views of the Hub’s skyline, baby.”
“You’ve been here before?”
I nod back at her. “I’ve been here a bunch of times. I actually used to come out here all the time in high school when I needed to think.”
“Oh, deep thinker, Jack,” she hums. “Sexy.”
“Shocking, I know.”
She shoves my shoulder. “Shut up.”
I slam the trunk when I decide that I have everything I need, clicking the strap of my backpack across my chest to secure it before I reach out for Abby’s hand. “You ready to hike?”
“Is anyone ready to hike?”
“It’s good for you,” I assure her.
“That’s yet to be proven.”
I snatch her hand, clutching it in mine and feeling a sense of satisfaction when she curls her fingers around my palm without argument. It’s a tiny victory, and a very new development, but even something this small is enough to set off a flutter in my stomach.
“I promise not to let you fall,” I tell her.
She scoffs. “I won’t fall.”
“Of course you won’t,” I say back, leaning in just a little. “Because you’re with me.”
Her lips pursing might scream annoyance, but the slight blush in her cheeks says otherwise. I decide I’ll take it.
She’s doing well for someone who claims that hiking for fun is cruel and unusual punishment—having only slipped twice since we started on the trails. She keeps a firm grip on my hand as we walk, and I have to admit that it makes her grumbling worth it.
“I’m sorry you hate it,” I offer, gripping her hand tight as I help her maneuver over a fallen log.
“I don’t hate it,” she protests. “I mean…I guess I’m just realizing how uncoordinated I am.”
“I can think of several times when you’ve been nothing but graceful,” I tease.
She attempts to kick me in the shins, resulting in her nearly slipping again, which makes her scowl.
“Really,” she huffs. “Who ever said this was fun?”
“Plenty of people,” I tell her. “It’ll be worth it when we get there.”
“Get where, exactly?”
“There’s a spot I found way back when. It’s got a gorgeous view. I just thought you might like it.”
Her expression softens, and I feel the gentle squeeze of her fingers around mine. “You’re really embracing this date thing, aren’t you?”
“I feel like I should be saying that to you,” I laugh. “I mean, I didn’t even have to tie you up and drag you out here.”
“But of course you wouldn’t stoop to such measures.”
“Oh, I absolutely would,” I say seriously. “Had the rope in the trunk and everything.”
“Kinky,” she notes dryly.
I grin, leaning in to press a kiss to her cheek. “I’ll show you kinky.”
“So what does a teenage Jack come to think about, anyway?”
“You mean besides my dead parents?”
She smacks me on the arm. “I will literally bury you out here.”
“Fine, fine,” I say with a smile. “You know, most women find it endearing.”
“Most women don’t know better,” she mumbles.
I hum thoughtfully. “Maybe that’s why I like you so much.”
“Stop flattering me and answer the question.”
“I don’t know,” I tell her. “Girls, school…hockey.”
Her lips curl in a smile. “I would have liked to see teenage Jack play.”
“You still don’t even know what a toe drag is.”
“I bet you were full of yourself,” she notes.
I push a branch out of the way, allowing her to duck under it. “Maybe a little less. It takes time to cultivate a personality like mine.”
“A sparkling one,” she deadpans.
I squeeze her hand. “Exactly.”
I notice the large rock that tells me we’re close to where we’re going, and I feel a flutter of excitement in my chest. I haven’t been here in years—haven’t really had the time—but something about seeing it again with Abby has me feeling lighter than I have in a long while. Or maybe it’s because it’s her.
“It’s right up here,” I tell her. “Be careful not to slip again.”
She narrows her eyes at me. “It was twice.”
“I’m just partial to your pretty legs,” I assure her. “Don’t want you to go and break them.”
“I swear, I don’t know why I don’t just kick your—oh wow.”
I push back a branch to reveal the small glade near the edge of the cliff, uncovering blue skies and miles of trees that bleed into the Hub’s skyline on the horizon.
From here the city looks idyllic, almost picturesque, and when I turn to take in Abby’s reaction, I notice her lips parted in surprise and her eyes rounded with wonder as she takes a step closer.
“It’s gorgeous,” she murmurs.
I grin. “I would never say ‘I told you so,’ but…”
“Okay, okay,” she says, raising her hands in defeat. “So the torture hike was worth it.”
“And that’s just the start,” I tell her, unclipping my backpack and setting it on the ground to open it up. “I’ve got the works in here. Blanket, wine, shark coochie board—”
“I’m sorry, what?”
I peek up at her. “You know. Little cheeses and grapes and shit.”
“A charcuterie board?”
I shrug. “Same thing.”
“That’s highly debatable.”
“Stop correcting me and help me set this stuff up.”
“But you’re doing such a good job,” she says, fluttering her eyelashes.
I smirk. “Oh, look who’s embracing being spoiled.”
“It is kind of nice,” she muses.
I smile to myself, continuing to pull things from my backpack.
I don’t tell her that it secretly thrills me that she would even joke about it—because I meant it when I said that Abby does deserve to be spoiled, even if just a little.
I feel like a lucky son of a bitch for being able to be the one to do it.
I spread out the blanket over the grass and start pulling the containers with the food out to set them on top, working quietly as Abby moves closer to the large tree that sprouts up near the edge of the rocky cliff that overlooks the forest below, leaning against it with her shoulder as she gazes out at the skyline.
Even from here I can notice a pull at her lips that has them turning down, a slight furrow in her brow that wasn’t there a moment ago.
I abandon what I’m doing to move closer to her, wrapping my hand around her elbow. “What’s wrong?”
“Oh.” She shakes her head. “It’s nothing.”
“What have we said about pretending?”
Her lips twist in a grimace. “That’s my line.”
“Go on, Thompson. Spill.”
“It’s stupid.”
“Not to me,” I say, curling my arm around her waist to pull her into my side.
“I just…This feels so normal. People do this all the time. Families take their kids…I just…I never had that, you know? I was so young when Mom got her diagnosis, and she was always so tired, and my dad…”
“Abby,” I sigh.
“It’s really nothing. It’s just that…sometimes I wonder what my childhood might have been like if things were different. If my mom hadn’t been sick. If my dad had been better. It’s hard not to think about it sometimes. Would we have done things like this? Would I have known this place existed?”
I hold her a little tighter. “Hey. I’m sorry. I didn’t think.”
“No, no.” She gives another vehement shake of her head. “I’m glad you brought me out here. Really. I needed to experience it at least once.”
“I just thought…You’re always so cooped up in the apartment. I thought being outside might—”
She turns to press a hand to my chest, looking up at me. “Seriously. I’m glad you brought me. It’s gorgeous out here, Jack.”
“I guess you have that in common then,” I murmur.
Her mouth curves upward, her eyes softening. “Flirt.”
“Just honest,” I assure her.
She looks at me with a wrinkled nose, almost as if assessing me. “How did I ever think that you were an asshole? Are you actually…really sweet?”
“Shh.” I furrow my brow, looking around. “Someone might hear you.”
“Oh, right, you mean all the people we passed on the way here?”
“You never know when someone is listening,” I say seriously.
Her grin is wide and open, and she shakes her head just a bit. “You really are a flirt.”
“Only with you,” I tell her, not at all surprised to find that I mean it.
I mean, I’ve flirted before, sure—who hasn’t? But I can’t remember a time when I got such satisfaction out of coaxing a smile out of a woman. Each one feels hard-won, like I’ve earned it, and all they do is make me want another one, to make her smile again and again.