Chapter 18 #2
No matter how my day’s gone, I catch myself thinking about what I’ll say to him when I get home, what he’ll be up to. Whether he’ll be curled up on the couch with a book or still in the kitchen, lost in a baking spree.
Speaking of bakeries? Forget it. The smell of sugar and pastries hits me and I half expect to see him behind the counter.
I’ll spot someone in a bold, perfectly put-together outfit and think how much Oliver would appreciate it. A splash of color, a little flair, he has an eye for those kinds of details.
At the gym, it’s the yoga class that brings him to mind.
I’ll glance through the glass wall and think about how Oliver would outshine everyone in there, the instructor included.
Seriously, the man is freakishly bendy, with poise and grace to match.
He can pull off that pose where your arm is threaded through your legs and you’re basically levitating with your legs fully extended like it’s child’s play.
Even random things get me. The way light hits glass sometimes, all golden and warm makes me think of him. He’s got that same kind of glow.
It’s not like I mean to think about him this much. It just . . . happens. He gets stuck in my head like a song that never left the charts. Honestly, I don’t mind. There are far worse things to be thinking about. If my brain wants to put Oliver on repeat, I’ll let it and consider myself lucky.
As we reached the top of a gentle incline, a butterfly drifted from the underbrush, its wings rimmed in vivid orange, bleeding into yellow and black with specks of white. It hovered for a moment, then landed on Oliver’s arm.
“Luke,” he whispered. “It’s on me. Quick, take a picture.”
I fumbled for my phone in my pocket, biting back a grin at the wondrous urgency in his voice.
The butterfly remained still, resting on the fabric of his sleeve with its wings spread out.
I snapped the photo and light incarnate filled the frame.
Oliver was always beautiful, undeniably so, but joy lifted him beyond beauty.
It made him spellbinding. His smile was a place unto itself, and I wanted to build a home in it and never leave.
“Looks like the forest welcomes you, a butterfly to human landing doesn’t happen to just anyone.”
“That was amazing,” he said.
We continued on, and eventually the sounds of the waterfall began to fill the air, distant at first, then growing into a rushing roar. The terrain dipped and soon the trees parted, revealing the waterfall in its full splendor.
It spilled over the dark edge of a rock face in a cascading sheet of white, crashing into the pool below where we stood. Mist permeated the air, catching sunlight and breaking it into fragments of a rainbow.
“Wow!” Oliver said, coming to a halt beside me. “I’ve never seen a waterfall in real life before. It’s incredible.” He turned to me. “Can we get closer?”
“You betcha.” I pointed to the scatter of flat rocks leading down to the base. “That trail there will take you to the base of the fall. Go ahead, lead the way.”
He pressed forward while I followed close behind. On the next step, Oliver’s boot skidded across the slick stone, a muted squeak against the wet slate. His balance teetered, arms flailing.
My arm swept around him to keep him from falling. “Got you,” I said into his ear.
“Thanks,” he replied, shivering.
Holding him tighter to warm him up, I asked, “You okay?”
“Yeah. Just slippery. Now you know why I had concerns.”
“Hey now. I assured no vertical death climbs, not that I’d eliminate all tripping or slipping hazards. Nature’s contract has fine print.”
“That sounds suspiciously like you denying any liability.”
“Yep,” I said with an exaggerated pop on the p. “But I also promised to catch you if nature tried to take you out. No slippery stone or wayward twig will bring you down as long as you’re with me.”
He studied me for a long moment, the teasing gone from his face. “I know,” he whispered.
I wondered if he also knew that I wanted to be the one he reached for when he began to teeter, to always be his safe landing pad rather than a temporary handrail.
When we reached the broad slab of rock near the base of the falls, he crouched down, extending his fingers toward the water.
“Congratulations,” I said, setting down my pack beside him. “You’ve officially survived your first waterfall approach. What do you think? Did I deliver or did I deliver?”
“You were right. It’s beautiful. And I’ll even admit the trail wasn’t that bad either.”
“You see? I’d never lead you astray. Which brings me to my next brilliant idea.”
I peeled my shirt over my head and tossed it next to the pack.
Oliver’s eyes went wide. “You’re . . . what are you doing?”
“If you want a real up-close experience, we could jump in. This fall is famous for its swimmable pool.”
“Jump in? Are you insane!? It’s freezing!”
“Pfft. If it were freezing, it’d be ice. This is invigorating. Excellent for circulation. Clinically proven to increase mental clarity. Plus, it’s early September, the water still has a little summer heat to it.”
“Uh-huh, you’re rebranding again. I told you, that won’t work on me.”
“Come on, Ollie. Live a little. You can’t just look at the waterfall. You’ve gotta experience it.”
“Right. Because nothing says physical vitality and mental renewal like voluntarily shocking my organs into hibernation.”
“Cold plunges are all the rage. I’m giving you the deluxe edition. Completely free, all-natural setting, and one-of-a kind views.”
“Everything about this screams ‘terrible idea I’m somehow agreeing to.’”
“You’re agreeing?”
“Well, apparently I have to prove that I’m a good stand-in for Ezra, so yeah, I’m doing this. Against my better judgment,” he muttered, unzipping his jacket and tugging his shirt over his head.
“Heck yeah!”
Once we’d placed our gear away from the splash zone, we stood at the edge of the pool.
“On three,” I said, taking a step closer. “One—”
Before I got to two, Oliver’s fingers slid into mine. “Don’t you dare let go.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” I said, tightening my grip on his hand.
“Two,” he said, continuing the count.
“Three,” we said in unison and then leapt.
Before plunging into the frigid water, Oliver’s shriek echoed off the rocks.
“That’s the stuff,” I said when I shot back up.
“Holy fucking shit! That’s cold!” Oliver said as he surfaced. “So cold! I can’t believe I let you talk me into this!”
“Swim around. It helps,” I said with a deep inhale before I ducked beneath the surface again, swimming under the water, letting the icy rush tear through me before coming up with a whoop.
“You really are insane. Like clinically.”
“I’m telling you, you’ve gotta move or the cold will settle into your bones.”
“I think it’s already in my bones,” he said, teeth clacking.
“Then get over here,” I said, paddling toward him. “We’ll get some friction going to warm you up.”
“I’m not sure that’s possible. I’ve made peace with my fate. Bury me under pine needles and tell people I died beautifully.”
Reaching him with two final strokes, I began rubbing my hands up and down his arms. “Nope, no way. I won’t let you haunt me that easily.”
He let out a stuttering breath, eyes fluttering closed. “I don’t think I’ve ever been this cold in my life. It’s like my blood is turning to slush.”
“Slushy blood, huh? Alright, drastic measures it is. Emergency heat-transfer protocol,” I said, wrapping both arms around him and pulling him into my chest, his head resting at the base of my neck.
“Mm, you’re warm,” he said.
“Only by comparison. It really does help if you swim around.”
“I’ll take your word for it, but I’m good right here.”
“Let’s at least get you out of the water before you become a popsicle.”
Together we waded toward the shoreline, climbing onto a rock and lying across it, letting the afternoon sun burn away the water left on our skin.