17. Hartley
CHAPTER 17
HARTLEY
Day 14—Greece
I t’s a good thing I drove to the checkpoint, because Court plastered his face to the window as soon as the Acropolis came into view. It was actually pretty cute. I promised him we could be tourists once we got to the checkpoint and kept hold of his hand all the way up to the Parthenon to prevent him from wandering.
It wasn’t a hardship, I promise.
“Court and Hartley,” Paul says when we step on the mat. “It’s been an interesting journey. Two weeks ago, you were the last to check in and only remained in the race due to Team Rockville’s time penalty. Is it safe to say it’s not as difficult to be teammates anymore?”
“Eh, she’s growing on me,” Court says.
“Hartley, what made it easier to get along with each other?”
There’s no way I’m talking about how the Bombshells basically intervened on our behalf, so I go with, “A lot of things, but if I had to choose something specific, I’d say letting go of our assumptions.”
Paul nods. “Obviously, it’s working. Your communication has greatly improved, and it looks like you’re even enjoying yourselves now.”
If he only knew . “They do say anything’s possible on Xtreme Quest. ”
“What about your relationship? Court, do you think there’s chance of something beyond the race?”
Alexis asked the same thing yesterday while Gianna and Court worked on their puzzle. I wish I could’ve told her we’d ride off into the sunset together, but Court and I have two separate lives. We both run businesses we can’t leave, and he has the added responsibility of being a substitute—a pretty damn good one, if my suspicions are correct. And even if I could pack up and move, he may not be looking for a relationship right now. So, in the meantime, I’ll be grateful for the chance to rewrite the ending we had in college and make new, wonderful memories while we’re at it.
Will it be enough to soften the blow of flying home next week? Absolutely not. I know my heart well enough to understand it’s about to take another hit. But the good news is I survived it once before, and this time we can walk away as friends instead of me hating him.
I’m actually a little mad at myself for that one.
How could I have truly thought for six entire years that the man standing beside me was the villain instead of the hero? Why didn’t I understand that he loved me enough to sacrifice himself in a fairytale he wrote solely because he believed I was worthy of a happy ending bigger than himself? And then I went and cheapened it by accusing him of making decisions for me, which isn’t the case at all.
It’s in this moment that I become acutely aware of three things:
I owe Court a genuine, face-to-face apology.
My heart is going to take a harder hit next week than I originally thought.
There is a hundred percent chance I’m in love with him again. Or maybe I always was.
I see Court rub his chin out of the corner of my eye. I don’t dare look his way out of fear he’d be able to read my mind. Instead, I squeeze my backpack straps and brace for the answer we both know is coming.
Instead, he shocks me by saying, “That’s an interesting question. Unfortunately, I didn’t pack my crystal ball, but I guess it goes back to what Hartley said—anything’s possible on Xtreme Quest.”
When the front desk agent told us about the amenities in our deluxe corner suite (specifically, the rainfall shower, Jacuzzi on the wraparound balcony, and view of the Acropolis), we negotiated a deal with her to swap our complimentary spa service for laundry service. She looked at us like we were nuts, but that’s because she doesn’t understand that fabric softener is a far greater luxury than a massage.
Besides, the room itself is so gorgeous that there’s no need to leave. I’m talking high-end wood flooring, wood accents on the walls, the sleekest bathroom I’ve ever seen, and fabrics that likely cost more than my car payment per yard. There’s also one king-sized bed instead of two queens.
I suspect that was Wendell’s doing, but I’m not complaining.
After taking full advantage of the shower (very spacious), deluxe toiletries (very bougie), and complimentary bathrobes (very plush), we send our clothes away with a nice young woman named Elena who says she’ll have them back to us in about six hours.
I’m sitting at the foot of the bed flipping through TV channels when Court comes back from locking the door. “Anything good?”
“Lots of soccer, a cooking show, a newscast, and”—I study the screen, where a man and woman are having an impassioned discussion on a couch—“a Greek soap opera.”
Clapping his hands in mock excitement, he says, “I’ve been dying to watch a Greek soap opera,” and plops onto the mattress beside me. “What do we think this one is about?”
“Some sort of lovers’ disagreement.”
“Hmm.” He watches for a moment, then says, “I’m leaning toward an inter-office affair. He’s her boss and he’s trying to break it off. She’s begging him not to.”
“I think you’re right about begging, but that’s a worried face. See?” I mimic the woman’s position and shift to face Court, gripping the lapels of his robe. “Don’t go, Acropolis! It’s far too dangerous.”
Without missing a beat, he clutches my wrists and holds me in place. “I have to, Tzatziki. It’s the only way to break the curse and restore philosophy to the village.”
“We’ll learn to live without philosophy. It doesn’t make sense anyway.”
“Uncle Socrates says a life without philosophy is a life half-lived, and Tzatziki”—Court takes my face in his hands and peers into my eyes—“everyone in the village deserves to live a thousand full lives together.”
I rise along with the woman on the TV and open the imaginary door. “Then go with Jason and the Argonauts and defeat the jackalpottamus so you can return to me.”
He hops off the mattress and kisses me before stepping through the threshold. “My heart has always been yours, Tzatziki. There is no mountain I wouldn’t cross, no fire I wouldn’t forge to be with you again.” He pauses in thought, then says, “Except for maybe the bladesmith in Nepal, but I’m sure you understand. Farewell, my little green olive.”
“Goodbye, Acropolis. I will see you in seven to ten business days.”
Court snort laughs as the show cuts to commercial. “Seven to ten business days?”
I tilt my head and shrug. “It seemed like a reasonable amount of time to defeat a jackalpottamus.”
He’s still laughing when he pulls me to his chest, but we fall silent soon after. I let myself get lost in the moment. To pretend Court’s improvised words were meant for me. That we could be the ones living a thousand full lives together. We wouldn’t even need that many.
I’d happily accept one full life with him, and I’d slay the jackalpottamus myself.
After taking a dip in the Jacuzzi, I hang our wet bathing suits in the shower and don my robe, then grab Court’s off the hook and return to the bedroom.
“Here,” I say, tossing it to him.
He catches it with one hand and sets his bottle of water on the nightstand. “What’s this for?”
“I need to talk to you, but I can’t think straight when you’re naked.”
The grin he blasts me with is a heady mix of cocky and adorable. In an effort to stay focused, I cover my eyes. “Put that thing away too.”
“Okay, okay,” he laughs.
A few seconds later, I remove my hand and find him standing there with his robe open, hands on his hips, still wearing that damn grin. It’s an act of warfare, obviously, so I reach for the nearest weapon and launch my assault.
“If you don’t cover up your man parts,” I say, whacking his chest with a pillow, “I’ll be forced to?—”
Court catches the pillow and holds it over my head. “You were saying?”
It’s tempting to lose myself in the devilish glint of his blue-green eyes. I very nearly do, in fact, leaving me with no choice but to break out the big guns .
I tickle him.
I reach right inside his open robe and attack his sides before he even knows what’s coming.
Yelping, he drops the pillow and goes for my hands, returning fire with expert precision while shouting, “You’ll never take me alive!” and something else I can’t hear over the sound of my own laughter.
“Uncle!” I cry between breaths as we fall onto the bed in a tangle of arms and legs.
He lands half on top of me, which wouldn’t be that big of a problem except that my robe came untied somewhere in the battle and now my naked parts and his naked parts are dangerously close to each other.
“You’re making it really hard to apologize to you.”
His head pops up, brows bunched together. “For what?”
The mood shifts from playful to serious, cueing a flood of nerves. “So much.”
Still concerned, Court rolls to the side to fix his robe, then settles against the pillows.
I do the same but decide to stand because this is the kind of thing you say while standing, right? Like a respect thing? Or would that look like a power move because he’s sitting while I’m standing? I don’t want to look powerful, just sincere. In that case, maybe I should be on my knees?
“Hartley?”
“Hmm?” I say around my thumbnail.
“You’ve stood up and sat down twice. Is everything okay?”
Nodding, I drop my hand to my lap and gather a breath for courage. “I had a mini epiphany at the checkpoint today, and now so many things make sense and I’m kicking myself for not realizing it before.”
I pause to sort through my thoughts, but they’re swirling around like little tornados of clarity, each just as important as the others and all of them clamoring for which one goes next. I wish I could tell him everything exactly the way it came to me—full-force and all at once, like the universe revealed the answers in a completed painting, then whacked me in the face with it.
Not that I want to whack him in the face, but you know what I mean.
“Anyway, what I want to say is I’m so sorry for doubting you and calling you a coward and a liar and for spending the last six years, and most recently the last week and a half, hating you for things you never did.
“I’m sorry for forgetting that you’ve always been an incredible human being, and for accusing you of making decisions for me when all you were trying to do was put my life and my needs ahead of your own. I’m sorry you had to break your own heart in the process, and I’m sorry for all the nights you hurt more because of what I said or how I acted.
“But mostly, I’m sorry for thinking the worst of you when all you’ve ever wanted is the best for me.”
Silence blankets the room as Court absorbs my long-overdue apology. Compassion and understanding wash over his face, drawing my throat tight. I don’t realize I’m crying until he reaches over and wipes my cheeks.
“Sounds like quite the epiphany.”
I let out a garbled laugh. “On camera, no less.”
“Is it my turn now?”
“Yeah, I think I’m done.”
“Okay. Remember when we learned the Bombshell thing was an act?”
“This is an interesting segue, but yes, I remember.”
“What did Gianna say?”
“That it was easy because people see what they expect to see.”
Court lifts his brows and holds my gaze. “Say that last part again.”
“People see— ah. ”
He nods when I make the connection. “It’s not your fault. You saw what I wanted you to see. The one promise I made to myself on the drive home from that bachelor party was to lie to you as little as possible. The downside was that meant the excuse I gave you was shaky at best. When you brought up the cheating angle, I knew that was the only way to keep you off my doorstep while still keeping my promise, so I ran with it. It actually worked out well, though. I still got to tell the truth by denying it, and the fact that I was denying it made me look even guiltier.”
“It definitely worked,” I say dryly as I scoot up to the crook of his arm. Once I’m settled, Court presses a kiss to the top of my head and I pretend not to die from it. “What did you mean about keeping me off your doorstep?”
“You’re the most stubborn optimist I’ve ever met. I was afraid you’d show up on my doorstep the next day with a bulleted list of options and counterarguments and tell me to pull my head out of my ass.”
I breathe out a laugh. “I probably would have.”
We’re quiet for several moments and then he says, “For what it’s worth, your showcase on Gallery Night was phenomenal. I don’t think I’ve ever had a chance to tell you that.”
Aaaand there goes my damn heart again.
But before I can respond, there’s a knock at the door. Court dodges my gaze as he slips off the bed and tightens the sash on his robe. I hear him talking to a man, and then the door is shutting and he’s coming back around the corner with a cart carrying a charcuterie board, a bottle of wine, two glasses, and a gift bag.
“Did the show order room service for us?”
Ignoring my question, he situates the cart beside the bed and reclaims his spot, only this time he faces me and links our fingers. After a few seconds, he finally meets my eyes. His Adam’s apple bobs once before he says, “I also have something I want to talk to you about.”
“Okay.” I give his hand a reassuring squeeze.
“I couldn’t tell you what the view looked like today once my instructor pulled our chute because I couldn’t take my eyes off you. We could’ve been over land or sea or an opening to the center of the earth, except I know it had to be land because you talked about the ground being covered in a patchwork quilt of green and brown and yellow. And there was a flock of birds nearby, and you put your arms out to fly alongside them. I know there were clouds because you laughed at how amazing it was to be that close to them.”
Tears prick my eyes. Out of everything we experienced, these are the things he chose to remember?
“I know that every time you got excited about something you saw, you did this little kick thing with your feet. And that I was so damn proud of you for overcoming a fear and embracing the experience we had today. I know your face was the first one I saw when I landed and I couldn’t wait to get to you.”
I lose the battle against my tears. Court wipes them away again, but this time I’m holding my breath while he does it.
“I know we’d have a lot of logistical things to figure out and it may not be easy at first, but I can’t breathe when I think about walking away from you next week, so I was wondering”—he grabs the gift bag off the cart and removes what’s inside—“if maybe you’d like to hang some stars with me?”