“Well, I’ve always wanted to go to White Sands.”
“What’s that?”
“A national park with white sand dunes. You can sled and hike there. A friend went in college and came back, raving that it was like touching the stars when you were out all alone on the dunes. I’ve always wanted that. But it’s, like, five hours away, and I have to work tomorrow.”
“Call out.”
My eyebrows hit my forehead. “You’re serious?”
“Yeah. Let’s go.”
I opened my mouth, ready with a quick retort. I couldn’t possibly run away in the middle of the week. I had weddings this weekend to deal with. I always had weddings to deal with. But maybe this was what I needed.
“Okay.”
Less than an hour later, we were heading west, on our way to New Mexico. It was about a five-hour drive, and I snagged a BnB in Alamogordo, the nearest city outside of the dunes. I rearranged my schedule for tomorrow while we drove, moving some meetings to next week, which I was sure I’d hate later. But for now, it felt worth it.
I didn’t know why I hadn’t anticipated it, but August started calling that night.
West glanced at the name on the phone and pursed his lips. “Are you going to answer that?”
“No,” I said automatically.
In fact, I put the phone on silent and didn’t look at it the rest of the night. We made use of the double bed, unable to hold back our laughter at the loud creaking noises it made. And then woke up bright and early the next morning, taking his Subaru to the entrance of the park.
We bought sleds and wax at the visitors center and drove into the sea of white dunes. It wasn’t actually sand even though it looked like it. The sand was gypsum, which was used commercially in drywall. Thankfully, the gypsum here hadn’t been stripped clear, and it was still a beautiful nature preserve. As if we were standing in an endless desert in the middle of New Mexico.
We took our sleds up to the top of an empty dune, waxed it to high heaven, and then proceeded to flop around uselessly.
I laughed myself into hysterics when West made it halfway down and then rolled through the sand face-first. “Oh my God, do that again!”
“I don’t know how you’re doing it,” he grumbled.
“The trick is to lay on your back, so there’s more surface area. Your butt just digs into the sand and slows you down.”
He eyed me warily as we trudged back up the dune. “Are you calling my butt fat?”
I snorted. “Hardly.” I slapped my own ass. “I’ve got junk in my trunk.”
He threw his sled to the ground and picked me up by my ass. I wrapped my arms and legs around him and giggled. We spun in circles until we were dizzy and collapsed into the sand.
West leaned over me, brushing sand off my cheek. “I love this freckle,” he said, touching a spot next to my lips.
“Yeah?”
“It’s my favorite. Well, you have one right here,” he said, pointing to my pelvis. “I like to taste that one right before I taste you.”
“Filthy.”
He didn’t respond; he just kissed me.
Our tongues met and twined, drawing out the gesture until we were both breathing heavy—and not from trekking up the dunes. Eventually, a family came near us, and we broke apart.
“Let’s try again,” I said. “You’re going to get this.”
We set up our sleds on the pathways we’d made, and then together, we pushed off. Both of us flew down the slopes, screaming and whooping as we went.
West crashed at the end, going tumbling. But then he jumped up, holding his sled above his head. “I did it! Let’s go again!”
I laughed but couldn’t resist his enthusiasm. We ran up and slid down that mountain over and over until we were exhausted and everyone had left us alone again.
Then, we lay side by side at the top of the dune, our fingers interlocked, staring up at the sun. I knew that we had to go back soon. It was a five-hour drive back to Lubbock, and I couldn’t play hooky twice this week. But I wasn’t ready to let this feeling go.
I wanted to hold on to it gently, like carrying an egg on a spoon.
“It is like touching the stars,” West said.
“Like there’s no one else in the whole world.”
“Just one.”
He brought my hand to his and kissed it. My stomach did a somersault. Apple had said we were young love. That it was all too complicated for her. But here, out in the open, it felt so simple.
“West,” I said, turning to face him.
His eyes swept to mine. “Yeah?”
I wanted to tell him what I’d been feeling for a long time. That this wasn’t just a fling, that it was so much more to me. That I wanted everything with him. Every silent moment, every stolen star.
But when I looked at him, my tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth like peanut butter. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t break the spell.
Instead, I kissed him and let him roll me onto my back. The words unspoken as I gave myself to him.
25
Weston
Getting away for even a day was exactly what Nora had needed. Exactly what I’d needed, too. I’d been obsessing about the band. While out on White Sands, I hadn’t thought about it at all. No, it was hard to think of anything but Nora when I was alone with her.
This wasn’t supposed to happen. Fuck. What was I even doing?
I was at my piano again two days later when a knock sounded on the door. Nora had a wedding today. She wouldn’t be free until late. Whitt was at work…on a Saturday, and Harley was apparently busy. I suspected she was dating someone, and that was why I hadn’t seen much of her. I had no idea who would be at my door.
When I opened it, Campbell Abbey was standing in the doorway.
“Hey, man! I didn’t know you were back from LA.”
“I just got back in. You busy?” Campbell asked.
“Nah, messing around with a new song on the piano.”
Campbell’s eyes brightened. “A new song? Can I hear?”
Oh shit. Yeah, hadn’t thought about that one. “If you want. It’s not done.”
“You’ve seen my half-formed shit. Time for you to do the same.”
I laughed; I couldn’t help it. Campbell was always like that. So self-effacing. As if it weren’t strange that we’d become such close friends so fast. I wanted to say he was like this with everyone, but we’d just clicked. Which was why Nora had thought I should just fucking talk to him about the band stuff. Maybe I should finally do that.
“Yeah, sure. Come in. I’ll play it for you.”
“I got a better idea. Let’s lay it down at the studio.”
“Here?” I asked in surprise.
“Yeah. Our best material came out of those sessions.”
He wasn’t wrong, but we hadn’t been working on my songs. I’d been matching his material. I didn’t know why it felt like a huge difference, but it did.
But it was Campbell. How could I say no?
“Cool.”
I’d talk to him about the band while recording. He was always in his best mood when we were there. It was long overdue anyway.