Chapter 34
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Declan
Evie is quiet all night, though not withdrawn.
She laughs as Finn and Da tell their usual campfire stories, and then when Lily and Poppy put on a show.
She disappears into the camper my parents designated for us for a while when Charlie gets drowsy. I offered to help with bedtime earlier, but she said she had it. I suspect she might need a moment alone.
“Time for us to head out before it gets too dark to navigate the roads safely.” Davis stands and takes Rowan’s dirty napkin, Saoirse’s empty cup, and barely makes eye contact with Eirinn.
“Thanks for letting me crash for a while. It’s so good to see you all.
” Gus grins at us and Finn pops up to hug him.
They make plans to see each other in the coming days.
Grant gives Gus a handshake-hug, and I do the same.
He lived with us when Grant and I were both already out of the house, but we’ve still known him all our lives.
Eirinn takes a side hug from Gus, and everyone bustles on to clean up before we do another round of s’mores. I see May walk up to Gus, who’s nearly to his truck, out of the corner of my eye.
“August.”
I would hardly believe that was May speaking if I didn’t see it, and this is enough to tell me I’m intruding. I turn back to the group and help Lily load a marshmallow on her stick.
It’s another ten minutes before Evie reemerges, and the group has dwindled down considerably.
Poppy and Lily are barely hanging on to consciousness as darkness shrouds the sky and they’re snuggled into Grant and Sam’s arms after a long day.
My parents have gone for a short evening walk, and of course Davis and Gus left.
Eirinn disappeared into her tent though it’s only eight-thirty, and I’m surprised to see Rowan and Saoirse bow out with big yawns a few minutes after Sam and Grant take the girls.
It’s only me and Finn, who is absolutely going to start drilling me about something, when the trailer door swings open and she shivers with the cool breeze.
It’s early September, but we’re at a place in the mountains that’ll be snow-covered inside the month.
Evening here is definitely chilly, and her bare legs and sweatshirt aren’t enough.
Though the view is rather nice.
“Did I miss s’mores?” She takes in the abandoned chairs.
“Everyone was up early this morning so we’re all crapping out. Especially after the mandatory fun hike the sheriff and Eirinn put us through right after breakfast.” Finn stands and stretches dramatically.
Fakely, if I’m being honest. There’s nothing this one loves more than sitting around a campfire drinking a beer and telling tales. But here he is begging off at not even nine o’clock. I shoot him a glare, but he winks. Of course he does.
“But I expect your husband there to treat you to a s’more, and you can report back on his execution. I want a rating out of ten.” Then he salutes us as he walks away.
“I’d take a s’more, if you want one, too.” In fact, I’ve been waiting for her. She mentioned on the drive up that she’s never had one, which isn’t a shock considering she’s also never been camping.
“Really? We can just call it a night, if you want. Charlie’s sound asleep, so I’m not worried about waking him.” She hugs her arms around herself.
She has no idea how much this time with her is exactly what I want. And there’s something about this moment, having Finn leave us alone, that has me recalling his words from days or maybe it’s been weeks ago. “Not everyone can have the dream. You do…. Don’t waste it.”
I’ve grappled with that—the concept that I have the dream. From the outside, it’s true. But internally, we’re here, and some of it is pretend.
But not all of it. Even I’m not obtuse enough to believe this is all and only for Charlie anymore for either of us.
With this in mind, I’m determined, in some small way, to not waste tonight.
I grab a plate and fill it with enough supplies for a few s’mores. “The fire’s still going, so we might as well.” I package up the rest of the food, and we’ll take it into the camper with us and store it in our bear-proof bags.
I pull two camp chairs close to the side of the fire where the smoke isn’t currently drifting and hand her a stick. We both sit and thread two giant marshmallows on them.
“The key here is to blow it out as soon as it catches fire. Don’t swing the stick, and don’t drop the stick.” It’s obvious, but if she’s never done it, how would she know?
I glance at her while she holds her stick over the flame, carefully rotating so each side of the marshmallow toasts just so.
It’s darker by the minute now, and soon, the sky will be putting on a show. I wonder if she’s ever seen the night sky like this—in a Dark Sky space where light pollution is minimized and you can see more of the galaxy than ever.
I don’t know why I want to give her the stars, but I do. I want to give her everything.
“How has today been?” I hazard, hoping I don’t push into any of the tender places she must be feeling. I don’t know exactly what, but they’re there.
Between Sam’s response when we arrived and then her one-on-one with my mom…
I need the details, but I can’t push. She’s got to decide what to give me, and that’s been my whole mindset with this.
She’s got to want it, actively. To choose me.
It’s the reason I don’t kiss her every time I see her.
So I’m not going to stop respecting that boundary now.
“It’s been great. Your family is just so…”
“Feral?”
She chuckles. “I was going to say warm.”
“They are that, too.” Most of them. I think of Eirinn and Davis, and May’s response to Gus. I don’t know what’s going on in either case.
“Oh!” She hops to her feet, but it’s my marshmallow on fire, so I blow out the flame.
“Guess that’s ready.”
She smiles, and it seems easy. It’s like a smile she gave me last week, or months ago when we would talk for a few minutes at lunch. Not so heavy with the circumstances. And maybe, everything on my end loaded down on my increasingly unwieldy feelings for her.
We slide our marshmallows onto graham crackers. She chooses a cookies and cream bar while I take a slim bit of chocolate. We bite into our creations at the same time.
“Mm. Okay, that’s good.”
I chew through my bite, then immediately take another.
She watches like I’m putting on a show. I raise a brow.
“It’s just… you’re not a dessert guy. You don’t usually like sweet things, from what I’ve seen.”
Her lips form these words and it’s like my brain connects to a magnifying glass and all I’m seeing is every lovely curve of her mouth. The dip of her cupid’s bow. Her plush bottom lip with the smallest smudge of white chocolate on one side.
“I like some sweet things.” I’ve never sounded more guttural.
I’ve never felt more ravenous.
“You do? Like chocolate?” She blinks slowly, like maybe we’ve been drugged by the fire and these sugary delights.
Or simply the moment together under the darkening sky.
“Chocolate’s fine.”
Her mouth curves into a pleased smile. “What’s better than fine? What’s your favorite thing?”
The air shifts with the moment. The cool breeze that had been dancing around us and shifting the smoke of the fire settles.
And this time, I drop my guard all the way into the dirt at our feet.
“You, Evie. You’re my favorite thing.”