Return to Us (4 page)

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 picks 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 shoulders 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.”

“I almost murdered TJ the other day.”

I roll my eyes. “I already know that.”

TJ is the last subject I want to talk about right now. My feelings regarding him are extremely conflicted at the moment. Until meeting him, I had no idea that the gap between hate and barely tolerating could be so wide.

“But did you know…” He leans down and kisses my cheek and then my lips. “That I realized something important after that moment of rage.”

“What?”

“I’m incapable of intentionally doing anything that makes you unhappy. I always thought I could help give you those gymnastics nudges you need sometimes at your level, given my experience with the sport, but I can’t.”

I recall the first time I caught my layout Jaeger release and Jordan being in the gym speaking those magic words that got me to make it. What had he said?
Breathe. It’s just one long exhale.

“I think you’re wrong,” I say finally, after thinking it through.

He just smiles and shakes his head. “You can’t change my mind on this one. I’m going to want to pummel anyone who makes you too tired or too frustrated or too stressed out.”

“So you’re saying there might still be a Jordan and TJ brawl to come?”

“It’s very possible.” He leans down and plants more kisses on my neck. “This is good, right? Tell me something else.”

I’ll do anything you want me to right now if you just promise to go back to the doctor and do exactly what she tells you
.

There. That’s getting closer to something I might actually be able to say. I try it out once more in my head, but end up saying, “I have no artistry. Nina keeps telling me that and it makes me feel immature and I have no idea how to fix it.”

Jordan gets a funny look on his face and then ducks down to kiss my neck again. I grasp his cheeks and lift his head again. “What?” he says, all innocent.

“You have an opinion on this subject?”

He tries to kiss me again, his eyes half-closing. “My opinion is that I love you.”

“Uh-uh.” I shove him off me and sit up. “You can’t get off that easy.”

He laughs. “I assure you, I can.”

My face flames. “You know what I mean.”

The amusement drops from his face. He sits cross-legged directly in front of me. “It’s not a maturity thing. You hold back. That’s all. You focus on one skill at a time, which is a great strategy for gymnasts, especially with packed routines like yours. But some part of your mind has to think about the routine as a whole, how the skills connect and build. The dynamics in both the skills and the music. There’s a story there and it’s your job to tell it.”