Return to Us

by Julie Cross

  I hold a hand up to stop him. What is this dude smoking? Seriously. “Dude, what are you smoking?”

  There. I’ve got back my skill of saying exactly what’s on my mind.

  Jordan laughs. “Nothing.”

  “Maybe that’s the problem?”

  Some kind of invisible force swoops in and dissolves all the tension between us. Without another word, we both start heading in the direction of our cabin. So much for being mortal enemies.

  “All I’m saying is,” Jordan adds after a minute of walking in silence, “she could be happier doing something else. She could be happier with someone else eventually. What if she’s suddenly into guys that insult her and piss her off and dive to her rescue in the middle of horrible uneven bar dismounts…”

  Now that is unexpected. “Okay… yeah, no.”

  “What do mean, no?” He eyes me carefully. “She acts like she hates you, but—”

  “No,” I say firmly. “I mean, yeah, I get that she’s a girl and all, but she’s not like a girl, you know?”

  He bends over and picks up a handful of rocks on the side of the path. “Still not clear.”

  “I don’t have the hots for your girlfriend.”

  Jordan releases a breath. “Okay.” I wait for him to press me for more details. I really didn’t think he’d go there, but whatever. He tosses one of the rocks into the trees. “I’m going to California.”

  “Yeah, so?”

  “So, Karen’s not gonna be anywhere near the west coast and what if I warped her or something? Like I made her think we were perfect together and really she needs to…” He shudders like he’s about to talk about spiders crawling in his mouth while he’s sleeping. “What if she needs to, you know… date other people? Like experiment? Maybe the unselfish thing to do is man-up and break up with her before I leave so she can focus on gymnastics and whatever she wants to focus on.”

  “That sounds like a fucking terrible idea,” I say. I’ve never liked the same girl for very long—or in many cases they’ve never liked me for very long—so what do I know? But my auto mechanic uncle used to say, “If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it” all the time when I was kid. Seems like the saying might apply here.

  Jordan glances at me, a small amount of hope returning to his face. “Really?”

  Uh-oh. This is not an area that I want any involvement in. I don’t want to be responsible for shit like this. Ever. I got enough to do just worrying about myself. “Hell if I know. You should probably ask someone who actually has a girlfriend. I prefer to hook up and then break up with as little in between as possible.”

  How did we go from him being ready to beat my ass to this deep discussion on unselfish acts of love? Considering my gift for the selfish acts, I’m really not the best person to help him out, even if I were willing.

  Jordan nods and says, “Right.”

  We both walk into the cabin, but before I get in the shower I stop him. “Are we cool? Seriously? You can hit me if it helps the pride thing or whatever.”

  He cracks a smile. “You keep up your tough love stuff with Karen and I might not be able to stop myself next time.”

  “Noted.” And yeah, it’s noted but that doesn’t mean I’ll back off of pushing Karen. Especially if she shows any hesitation with that dismount. But I respect his right to hit me next time. We both gotta do what we gotta do.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  ~KAREN~

  “I’m supposed to tell you that I’m wearing new boots.”

  Jordan lifts his head and looks up at me. He’s kneeling on the ground, tightening the buckles on the hiking backpack he found for me. “We’ll check for blisters when we hit three miles. Did you get the right size and are you wearing liner socks?”

  “Yes and yes.”

  He stands up and straps his own backpack on again and points down the trail. I can’t say this journey so far has been completely relaxed—both of us are acting more polite than normal—but it hasn’t been as awkward as I’d imagined, considering the tension between us over the last couple weeks.

  And even though I’m a girl on a mission right now (as Stevie reminded me about twenty times before Jordan and I took off this morning), I can’t help but enjoy the distance from the gym and the wide open space. I totally need this.

  “How many miles is this trail again?” I ask. If we’re checking my feet at three miles, we must be going at least twice that, right?

  “Eight,” Jordan says, flashing me a smile. “Think you can handle it?”

  I laugh. “We’re about to find out.”

  His fingers brush the back of my neck, giving me a squeeze and then he leans closer and kisses my cheek. My heart flutters from that small contact—something we haven’t had any of in days due to a number of reasons, one of them being Jordan’s secret floating between us.

  This mission might be easier to implement than I originally thought. I’m dying for some intense Jordan Bentley kisses right now. I stop on the path and turn to face him. His mouth falls open like he’s ready to talk about something serious. And then I hear it. The distant sound of water rushing over rocks.

  “Is that… ?”

  “A waterfall?” he finishes, the smile returning to his face. “It’s one of many we’ll see on this hike.”

  “Well, let’s go then.” I grab his hand and tug him down the path. “How far is it?”

  “About a mile away.” Jordan takes a drink from his water bottle and passes it to me. “It’s hot now and it’ll get colder when we climb up, so you gotta stay hydrated.”

  “When did you learn all this outdoorsman stuff?” I stare at the bottle for a moment before taking a swig. A year ago, I would have never shared a drink with anyone. Well, maybe Blair if it was to prevent dehydration.

  “Nothing fancy,” he says. “I just took off to go camping on the weekends every summer I’ve been here and stuff would go wrong, I’d come back, tell someone, and then figure out how to keep from freezing to death at night or being eaten alive by mosquitoes… that kind of stuff.”

  “And blisters,” I remind him. “You learned about blisters.”

  “Also by experience.”

  I laugh and then silence falls over us as we walk at a slight upward angle—enough to cause me to feel it in my quads. The quiet continues as the rushing water grows louder. It’s such a real and authentic sound, I don’t want to cover it with empty words and all the talking around subjects we’ll eventually have to broach.

  After a while longer, probably quite a bit more than a mile, Jordan points to a big mess of trees off the side of the trail. I follow behind, letting him use his arms to knock branches aside so we can walk. Then all of a sudden the world opens up around us and we’re standing at the edge of a cliff, nothing but blue skies all around and rushing white water and gray rocks below.

  “Oh my God,” I whisper, afraid to shout over the waterfall. “This is amazing.”

  Jordan’s shoulder brushes against mine. “I know, right?”

  My gaze follows the gray rocks upward, searching for a path. “How do we get down there? We’re swimming, aren’t we?”

  “It’s a little tricky but we can do it. Just probably not with backpacks.” He nods toward a clear space of grass behind us. “We’ll leave them here.”

  I unfasten all the buckles on my backpack and toss the bag into the grass seconds later. The temperature outside is still low eighties. We haven’t gotten high enough for it to drop yet.

  Jordan rests his pack beside mine and heads down the side of the mountain, reaching out for my hand. “Let me go first.”

  The journey down is a bit tricky, but it’s only ten or so feet and before I know it, we’re level with the base of the waterfall. I find a rock to sit on and lift up one foot. “Now the hard part—keeping my socks dry.”

  “Here.” He bends over and takes my leg in his hands, untying my boot and gently freeing my foot. He removes my sock and stuffs it deep inside the boot, which gets placed on a flat rock. Then he pi
cks up my other foot, starting the process all over again.

  “Wow, this is just like that scene in Fifty Shades when Christian and Anna—” I stop abruptly after noticing Jordan’s hands freezing on my boot, a look of shock on his face.

  “You did not read that book…”

  My cheeks flame and I shrug. “I may have skimmed it in the bookstore once. Just wanted to see what all the fuss was about.”

  He rests my other boot neatly beside the first one and then sits on a rock to take off his own shoes. “I thought it was like all sex and spanking in that book? And swings on ceilings? I think I remember reading something about an indoor swing in the story?”

  I snort back a laugh. “Well, apparently the author thought removing a partner’s shoes was part of the… you know, foreplay or whatever.”

  “Sexy.” Jordan rolls his eyes. “What happens after the shoes? Do they rub each other’s feet with wart removal medicine? I can’t think of anything hotter than that.”

  I’m laughing hard enough to forget all the stuff between us and I can see it lifting off Jordan’s shoulders as well. He stands up and holds out a hand, pulling me to my feet. His fingers drift under the back of my long-sleeved T-shirt and before I realize what’s happening, he’s lifted it over my head, leaving me in a swimsuit top and shorts. His eyes dance with amusement and then the playfulness dissolves quickly and he’s staring at my shoulder, wrapping his arm around my waist and bringing us together.

  “You have new freckles on your shoulders.” He traces his index finger over my skin. “You need more sunscreen.”

  “I get freckles even with sunscreen.” My breath catches when his mouth lands on my shoulder. We’re completely alone out here. Completely.

  His lips travel from my shoulder to my neck and then he buries his face against my skin, arms tightening around me. “I’m sorry,” he breathes, “I’m really sorry.”

  For what? Making me keep your secret? Leaving me in a matter of weeks to go to Stanford? Not punching TJ? Or is it something worse? Like he doesn’t want to be with me anymore?

  “Jordan… ?”

  He lifts his head, flashing me another smile. “I’m sorry for not doing this for days and days…”

  My mouth is quickly drawn to his and he’s kissing me in a way that takes full advantage of us being alone. With our mouths still connected, I reach down and tug his T-shirt over his head, separating only a second before we collide again.

  After a minute or two, Jordan pulls away. “Let’s go make out under the waterfall.”

  Before I can respond, he scoops me up in his arms and walks toward the water. “Carry me, Edward. I’m too uncoordinated to walk.” I lay my head back and sigh dramatically. “I’d rather give you my blood than trip and fall again.”

  He leans down and his teeth graze my neck. “We need to get you some new books.”

  “I told you, I only skimmed.” I raise my head, the rushing water growing louder with each step. “Wait! I still have my shorts on.”

  “You’ll dry.” Jordan holds me tighter and quickly wades through the lake, pulling me under the icy cold waterfall.

  ***

  “I feel such a sense of accomplishment.” My gaze drifts over our camping space again, taking in the perfectly assembled tent and rolled out sleeping bags, the fire that’s blazing despite the fact that it’s hot out here and we’re both sweating.

  I don’t know why but I had figured we’d end up in a cold place tonight. Apparently the eight-mile hike took us up, then down again. Tomorrow we only have to walk three miles on mostly flat ground to get back to camp. Gymnastics camp anyway. Tonight we’re at Camp Karen and Jordan Are Alone All Night in the Wilderness.

  “Good, you’re totally prepared for the zombie apocalypse now.” Jordan bends over the fire, poking it with a stick to shift the wood.

  “Well, that’s important, right?” I look around again, my stomach growling. “I’m starving. What have you got planned for dinner?”

  Jordan looks up at me, wide-eyed. “You didn’t catch any fish while you were down at the lake? I thought that’s what you were doing.”

  Um no… I was talking myself into peeing in the water. Even though I know there’s no other bathroom option, I still had trouble with going in the lake. “Funny. Seriously, what are we eating?”

  He laughs and heads for his bag. “Hot dogs.”

  “Don’t tell Nina,” I warn. I’m too hungry to worry about dietary restrictions. I watch him pull out a Ziploc baggy with four hot dogs, a few ketchup and mustard packets, and some slightly smashed buns. “No relish?”

  “No, but I have marshmallows.”

  Jordan and I hunt for sticks, then I make lemonade with our water bottles while he cooks the food.

  Thirty minutes later, I’m completely stuffed after eating two hot dogs and four jumbo marshmallows. I use a small amount of water from a water bottle to brush my teeth and then watch Jordan do the same.

  Immediately after our toothbrushes are tucked away, my heart starts pounding, remembering what I came here to do. Time is flying, the sun is setting and I don’t even know what I’m gonna bribe him with. I’m distracted by the memory of that doctor’s appointment and the urgency she placed on having this surgery. I have to do something. If I don’t talk him into it by tomorrow, then I’ll have to tell his dad.

  “You wanna swim again?” Jordan asks, then stops when he sees my face. “Uh-oh. Here comes the serious Karen chat, right?”

  He’s expecting this. Makes sense, I guess. But talking is not what’s going to work. I force a smile, and an idea pops into my head. “What serious chat? I thought this was a relaxation trip.”

  He rolls his eyes. “Come on, I’m not stupid. You agreed to this trip so you could lecture me.”

  I take a deep breath, channeling Stevie’s confidence in this plan. She made it seem completely foolproof. Get him alone and tell him what you’ll do if he agrees to talk to his dad and have surgery.

  I turn my back to him and head for the water, listening for his steps behind me. My shorts and T-shirt are lying in the grass before he even catches up to me. I open my mouth to make a suggestion and then completely lose my nerve when he peels off his own T-shirt. I can’t imagine the rest of his clothes coming off. Well, okay, I can imagine it, but it’s safe and easy inside my head. But out here, in real life… not so easy.

  “What are you doing?” he says, staring at me, staring at him.

  My face heats up and I turn around again quickly. “Nothing, just… swimming.” Even though the water is really cold, I head in quickly to avoid conversation.

  Jordan comes in after me, catching me around the waist and spinning me around to face him. “I know you’re up to something.”

  I lift my arms around his neck and press against him, enjoying the warmth of his skin before the water turns it cold. I dig up the courage and spit out the first words that come to mind. “I’m thinking about taking my suit off.”

  He holds me at arm’s-length, his forehead wrinkling. “Taking your suit off?” His eyebrows shoot up suddenly. “Oh, wait… you mean a bathroom break? I wasn’t supposed to follow you, was I?”

  Oh. My. God. I suck at this. I should have known implementing any kind of sexual bribery on my part would result in a big epic fail.

  “It’s probably the hot dogs,” Jordan adds, sensing my embarrassment. “Want me to leave?”

  “I don’t need a bathroom break.” I press my forehead against his chest. “The hot dogs are sitting fine so far.”

  “Okay, then,” he says still sounding confused. “Come lie in the grass with me. This water’s crazy-cold.”

  Since my teeth are chattering, I decide to follow him out of the lake. I feel like one of those twenty-five-cent super bouncy balls—at the campsite, in the water, out of the water, and still nothing accomplished.

  We stretch out in the grass, allowing the early evening sun to warm us. Lying down is such a relief. My feet hurt from all the miles of walking and my s
houlders ache from the backpack.

  “I get the sense that you’re trying to tell me something,” Jordan hints, rolling on his side and leaning on one elbow to watch me. “No pressure or anything…”

  I try the words out in my head a few different ways. Let’s get naked and then you can have that tonsillectomy. Or should I say, I’ll show you mine if you do something for me?

  God, this is impossible. I can’t even fathom speaking either of those phrases or anything similar. What was I thinking? I cover my face and groan.

  “How about we try something easier,” he suggests, calm as anything. “Start by telling me something that you haven’t had a chance to mention or didn’t want to for whatever reason and I’ll do the same.”

  All right. I can do this. Just don’t tell him that you know who’s paying for his college. And now that I think about it, what is it with these Bentley men and forcing their secrets on me? “My parents left me a bunch of money and then I sold my house and they left me that, too…” I uncover my face. “I didn’t really know what to do with the money. I don’t want it. Not beyond what I need to cover my expenses. Your dad came up with a good plan.”

  I go on to tell him about Bentley’s idea to offer gymnastics scholarships to foster children so they can enroll in classes, leaving out the part about how his dad got involved in this in the first place. How I originally won a bet by hitting my routines at a competition in Chicago, forcing Bentley to accept a two-hundred-thousand-dollar check from me to pay for Jordan’s Stanford tuition.

  “That’s… really cool,” he says, carefully hiding either disappointment or hurt. “Why didn’t you tell me about any of this?”

  “I don’t know. It happened right after you left for camp and then I got here and there was all this stuff going on and I kind of forgot all about it.”

  He relaxes a little and smiles. “Well, it sounds pretty awesome. Let me know if I can help or anything.”

  “I’m not even sure I’m helping. It’s your dad’s project. I like the idea, I just don’t want to think about that money. Maybe someday…” I reach up and wipe some drops of water from his forehead. “Okay, your turn.”