Page 50 of Drowning Erin

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Page 50 of Drowning Erin

I’m not in love with Gabi, but it’s not a stretch to see it happening eventually. Either way, there’s not much harm in agreeing to her terms. I haven’t wanted to see anyone else since she got here, and she only has a few months left before med schoolanyway.

My misgivings are probably just fear of the unknown. I ignore the voice in my head that says they are something elseentirely.

36

Erin

Present

Somehow Brendanand I both manage to fall asleep in the tiny bed, but when we wake the next morning, he’s flat on his back, and I’m draped over him like he’s a massive bodypillow.

“Sorry,” I whisper, disentanglingmyself.

"Do me a favor," he says, "and turn the other way for aminute."

I roll my eyes. "I've seen you in a pair of shortsbefore."

"Fine, smartass. I was trying to be a gentleman.” And with that, he throws back the covers and reveals the kind of bulge that would catapult this moment straight into an NC-17 rating. "Happynow?"

"Good Lord," I say, covering my eyes. "Put that thing away,perv."

"I woke up with your tits pressing against my arm and your bare leg draped over my stomach, Erin. That doesn't mean I'm a pervert. It means I'mstraight."

"Ugh. I wish I could un-seethat."

"Yeah, I bet," he cracks. "I just made it a thousand times harder for you to get back together with Rob, didn'tI?"

"Sorry to burst your bubble, but I've got no complaints about Rob in thatdepartment."

"You sure? I can pull it out if you want to do an honestcomparison."

I throw a pillow at him. It seems a better option than telling him the truth, which is that yes, I’d very much like tosee.

* * *

Someonefrom the rental company meets us before lunch, and once we’re back in our car, we head north. I feel oddly free, the kind of freedom I normally only experience under certain conditions: at the end of a race or as I collapse on my towel after a few hours of surfing. It’s the experience of no longer giving a fuck, but in the best possible way—where I’m well spent and all the normal comforts of the world feel extraordinary. When I’ve pushed myself so hard that I’m beyond caring what anyone else thinks about me. That’s how I felt yesterday with Brendan, and that’s how I feel today, as we drive to Squaw Valley. I think it has to be him, or at least what he’s reminded me about the person I used to be. I just hope I’m brave enough to hang on to the parts of myself I’mreclaiming.

We reach the house we’re sharing with Olivia, Will and the crew by mid-afternoon, and find complete chaos. Olivia's crew might be just ten people, but ten people with several significant others, plus Dorothy and Peter and Will and Olivia and two children is...a crowd. Part of me wishes I had Brendan to myself a littlelonger.

"There they are!" Olivia shouts as we approach. She detaches herself from the group of people in the living room, with Caroline in her arms and Dorothy in herwake.

"Ohhhhh." I reach for Caroline. When I saw her last, she was a newborn—squinty-eyed, with a pursed, pouting mouth, asleep 75 percent of the time and nursing the rest. Now she's an actual baby, with Brendan’s eyes and Olivia’s features, and she's so gorgeous ithurts.

"Oh my God," Olivia sighs. "Tell me you're notcrying."

"She's so beautiful," I reply, my voicecracking.

"Erin cries every time she sees my kids," Olivia tells Brendan. "Keep an eye on her. I'm worried she might walk off with one ofthem."

I watch Brendan’s face as he takes Caroline from me, the way it goes soft and wistful. I wish I knew why he was so adamantly against having kids. It’s clear he adores his niece and nephew. And while I watch him, Olivia watchesme.

“Let me show you your room,” she says, her eyes alight, and I know exactly what I’m infor.

I follow her up the stairs. “We’re just friends,” I tell her once we’re out ofearshot.

The Cheshire-cat grin doesn’t leave herface.

“Weare.”




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