Page 87 of On the Slopes of Tahoe
There’s a plaid blanket hanging over the back of a buttery-soft brown leather couch sitting in front of a gas fireplace with a TV mounted above it. The worn oak coffee table looks like it’s been the setting for many a card game or movie night, with waterrings stained into the wood right next to the coasters that never got used. The small dining table sits opposite a quaint kitchen, and it’s more than enough space for me to set up my laptop. The kitchen is rustic with an assortment of mismatched mugs sitting by a coffee maker, and I can’t wait to add my own eclectic collection to them.
The coffee maker isn’t as fancy as the one in the last condo, but I’ve resigned myself to the fact that Breck had a magic touch with which he ruined me.
That magic touch definitely extended to more than the…
Nope, not going there right now.My cheeks heat as I follow after Jamie, finding him in the bedroom.
Jamie plants himself on the bed. It’s draped with a dark green comforter and is nestled between rustic side tables that complement the cream walls and dark wood bed frame.
“Nice bounce to this mattress.” He smirks and raises an eyebrow.
“Oh my god, stop. Get off my bed.” I laugh, pushing at his shoulder. “Of course that’s what you’d check first.”
“What?” He scoffs with mock offense. “A good mattress is important—for a lot of reasons. Get your mind out of the gutter.”
I bend over laughing even harder now. I love this man. I wonder if there will ever be a woman who will tangle herself deep enough into his heart to keep him. One can only hope. He deserves that.
“Let’s check out the bathroom,” I say.
He whistles when he walks in behind me, bracing his hands on the doorframe, and it’s clear why. The large glassed-in shower has not one, not two, butthreeshower heads. One on each side of a rainfall shower head in the middle. The rest of the bathroom is pretty standard, but I think I want to live in that shower.
“Yup, it’s settled, I’m moving in too,” Jamie jokes before he heads back out to the living room.
“I don’t think this place is big enough for the both of us.”
He laughs. “Okay, now say that while standing with your hands on your hips like you’re challenging me to a shootout.”
He assumes the position and playacts pulling two imaginary revolvers from his holsters.
“You’re a loon. You know that?”
“I do. Now let’s grab your boxes out of my car so we can go get some dinner. We need to celebrate!”
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
Breck
Iwalk along the harbour, a coffee in each hand—pondering if I should’ve ordered them iced. The transition from Tahoe’s winter to Sydney’s summer has been an adjustment. It’s a constant reminder that we’re nowhere near the place we found solace the last three months. It’s not just the sweltering temperatures that have been an adjustment. Everything here feels both old and new.
The house is the same yet different. It’s still the house webrought Willow home from the hospital to, that we lived nearly nine years of our lives in.
Willow and I are the ones who’ve changed, moved into a new phase of our lives.
It took me less than a minute of standing in the master bedroom to know I’d need a new bed. Not just a new mattress, but a whole new bedroom set—and soon. Five nights in the guest room is plenty, thanks.
“Hey.” Wes’s voice pulls me out of my head as I see him sitting on the concrete sea wall that lines the harbour.
He stands, stretching his right leg, the scar from the crash just visible under the hem of his shorts, and grabs his cup from my hand. It’s the first time I’ve seen him since they picked us up at the airport on Sunday. Both he and Joss left on trips with Qantas the next day. Willow and I have been on our own to get settled which has been both a good thing and the worst thing.
He claps me on the back, studying me as he steps back. “How’re you doing, brother?”
I wince internally at his use of the word. We’ve always been that close, our relationship that easy. But it’s hard for me to reconcile our relationship with the one I had with Rory—hissister—that he knows nothing about.
“I’ve been better,” I say honestly, and he purses his lips. I don’t have the energy to pretend all is fine and good when it’s not.
“That was a stupid question. I’m sorry. I wish we could’ve been here this week.”
“No worries, mate, it’s fine. We’re going to have to figure out this wholeget back to real lifething sooner or later.” I shrug, looking out at the water. I sit down and dangle my legs over the side of the concrete wall, picking up my coffee just for something to do with my hands.
