Chapter Eight
Everybody was back at the house by the time Sara arrived, and cheers went up all around when she stepped out onto the back deck, holding Stevie’s hand.
Bottles and cans and glasses were raised, and one by one, each of them got up to hug her.
When it came to Rowan’s turn, Sara held her extra tight and extra long and whispered in her ear, “I’m so glad you’re here. ”
Unexpected wetness appeared in Rowan’s eyes, and she gave Sara one more squeeze before stepping back.
“Sara,” Lizzie said, holding up her bottle. “Beer?”
Sara had her own water bottle, and she held it up in response. “Gonna stick to water for now.”
“Smart. I’m switching back to that momentarily so we can take the boat out in a bit.”
“I’d like to save a seat on that ride,” Rowan said, looking to Lizzie.
“Done.” Lizzie gave a nod.
“I would, too,” Evie said.
“And also done.” Lizzie pointed at Evie.
Evie didn’t look at Claire, but Rowan did, and Claire was clearly unhappy, if the way she pushed to her feet and went inside the house was any indication. Evie sipped from her can of seltzer and gazed out at the water.
What the hell was going on with them?
Instead of wondering if they were together, Rowan was now starting to wonder if they were breaking up. She kept her eyes on Evie, but Evie continued looking out at the lake.
“How’s your brain, Rowan?” Sara asked, tapping her own temple. She’d taken a seat on Stevie’s knee and was now looking at her intently.
“It’s still got some holes,” Rowan said with a soft laugh. “A little Swiss cheese–like. But things are coming back little by little.”
“And the headaches?”
“Not quite as frequent. I still get them, but usually if I haven’t had enough sleep.”
“Oh, good. That’s an improvement from the last time I saw you.” Sara’s smile was gentle, and it always put Rowan at immediate ease. She had a presence—it was the only way to explain how Sara made people feel the way she did. Welcomed. Safe. Valued. She was a unique kind of human.
“It is.” Rowan nodded and sipped her Diet Coke.
“It gets hard to be patient, but every time something comes back, it’s a relief, and it gives me hope that there will be more.
” The deck had gotten quiet, everybody listening to their conversation, and Rowan wiped her hand in front of her as if erasing a whiteboard.
“But enough about me. How are you? How’s work?
Your parents? Catch me up. I have amnesia, you know. ”
Her quip had the intended effect, and ripples of laughter went around the deck, and soon they were all chatting happily. Without realizing she was about to do it, she leaned toward Evie and said quietly, “I don’t like when all the attention is on me and my accident. Feels weird.”
“I totally get that,” Evie said, and when Rowan met her dark eyes, she smiled at her—a smile that blazed a path through Rowan’s body from her chest straight down to her groin. Evie had always had that power, and now? Rowan didn’t know what to do with it.
They sat on the deck, chatting with Sara for a while, and then six of them headed for the dock. Lizzie and Justine, Stevie and Sara, Evie and Rowan. Claire, Jasmine, and Becca decided to stay back, Claire’s dissatisfaction still very apparent.
“What’s the deal with Claire?” Rowan heard Sara whisper to Stevie, who shrugged and said nothing.
Rowan was relieved to see that she wasn’t the only one who’d picked up on the weird behavior.
Sara had been there for barely two hours, and she’d seen it, too.
Rowan shot a glance at Evie, but she was watching her own feet.
Sara sat in the front of the boat, and once Stevie had untied the ropes, she joined her. Lizzie took the driver’s seat with Justine in the matching passenger chair, which left Rowan and Evie in the back together. Rowan took a seat, and rather than sitting across from her, Evie sat next to her.
“You mind?” she asked quietly.
Rowan simply shook her head. Being close to Evie was never something she minded, even though her brain was shrieking at her that maybe she should.
Stevie threw a look Rowan’s way, and when Rowan met her gaze, Stevie simply raised her eyebrows in question. Rowan gave a subtle shrug and looked away because she wasn’t about to analyze what was happening. No. She was going to enjoy it.
Lizzie chugged them away from the dock, and soon they were moving along the water at a relaxed pace. Rowan felt more than saw Evie relax next to her. Their thighs touched on the bench seat, and she could feel her quad relax against hers.
“All good?” she asked.
Evie turned to her with that smile—the one that melted Rowan and could get Evie anything she wanted—and gave her a nod. “All good.” Then Evie took in a big breath of the lake air, her chest rising as her lungs filled, and she let it out slowly.
Rowan watched it all happen as if no time had passed between them—and to her brain, very little had—and she felt her heart squeeze in her chest with missing something she’d only recently realized she’d lost.
The motor made conversation from one end of the boat to the other kind of hard, so Rowan sat quietly instead while snippets of things said by the others drifted over her, and she watched the lake. More specifically, she watched the other people on the lake.
A speedboat zipped past them pulling an inner tube with three life-jacketed riders.
“What do you think the one in the red life jacket is thinking right now?” Evie’s voice was soft, and her lips were very close to Rowan’s ear when she asked the question. Rowan’s body broke out in goose bumps.
She swallowed, found her voice, and said, “She’s wondering if she really likes the guy in the yellow jacket that much because all this bouncing may very possibly make her puke.”
Evie laughed, and it sounded like music, like notes on a piano, just like Rowan remembered it, and the sound wound its way into her head, down through her nervous system, and settled near her heart, the way Evie’s laughter always had. Making her laugh was one of Rowan’s favorite things.
“And what about those two in the kayaks?” Evie asked, pointing off to the left. It was a man and a woman in separate bright blue kayaks, the woman out in front of the man.
“They’re on a date, and the dude was ready to show her a thing or two about how virile he is, but what he didn’t know is that she kayaks four times a week and would kick his ass in the water.”
“And that guy?” Evie pointed to a lone fisherman in a steel gray rowboat closer to shore. His line was in, and he was simply sitting and watching the water.
“He’s thinking about the egg salad sandwich his wife will have waiting for him at home, and he’s hungry, so he’s wondering if he should just give up on the fish and head in.”
“I do love a good egg salad sandwich,” Evie said.
“I know.”
She turned her dark eyes toward Rowan, who couldn’t look away from her beautiful face, her smooth, creamy skin. She looked tired, Rowan noticed that, but no less gorgeous than she’d ever looked. “Think Justine would make me one this week?”
“Have you met Justine? Food is her love language. I think she’d make you whatever you want.”
Their gazes held for a moment—a delicious moment, if Rowan was honest—and then Evie put her hand on Rowan’s thigh.
“I’ve missed you.” She said it so quietly, and then turned away, that Rowan wasn’t one hundred percent sure she’d actually heard it, or if Evie meant to say it out loud.
It took her a few minutes, but she finally convinced herself she was mistaken, that Evie had said something else.
Except Evie’s hand was still on her thigh.
Lizzie took them chugging all around the lake, clearly giving Sara a tour. She kept the speed low, and the hum of conversation became almost comforting, even though Rowan couldn’t really make out much of it.
She was gazing out toward the shore where a handful of kids played on a floating dock similar to the one at their house, jumping off and climbing back on, screaming in delight, and she smiled as she watched them.
And then she felt a gentle weight on her shoulder.
When she slowly turned to see what it was, Evie had leaned against her, eyes closed. Obviously, Rowan thinking she looked tired was a spot-on assessment because she wasn’t simply resting. Evie had fallen asleep.
Not that Rowan could blame her. The gentle rocking of the boat, the steady hum of the motor, and being slightly removed from the conversation so you didn’t have to focus were all factors in lulling a person to sleep, and if Evie had already been tired, it only made sense.
But Rowan wasn’t about to move.
Nope.
She knew she should. She knew she ought to gently jostle Evie a bit, shrug her shoulder, make her head loll until she opened her eyes and sat up.
But she didn’t.
Nope.
She was going to soak this in.
She gently settled herself closer to Evie, got a bit more comfortable, and made sure Evie’s head wouldn’t roll too much.
Her warm hand was still on Rowan’s thigh, and Rowan was fine with that.
In fact, if she closed her own eyes for just a moment, it was like she’d gone back in time.
Before her injury. Before Evie had broken up with her. Before, before, before.
She glanced toward the front of the boat and met Stevie’s concerned expression but turned away. She’d hear about it from Stevie later, and that was fine. For now, she simply wanted to be in this moment. Revel in it. Sink down into it and stay there.