Page 107 of The Lost Book of First Loves
Alison
Something yanked Alison from the nap she hadn’t realized she had taken.
She blinked awake, trying to gather her bearings. It took her a few beats to realize she was lying in a hammock slung between two big trees with a book across her chest. Beyond the hammock, she could see the lake gleaming in the murky light.
And next to her, a man stood, his hand warm on her arm.
Xander, she realized, an instant before she would have panicked.
“Sorry I had to wake you, but we’re both going to be soaked in about five minutes if we don’t head for the tents.”
She gazed at his mouth and had a flash of memory of the dream she had been reluctant to leave.
Good Lord. Had she actually been dreaming aboutkissingXander?
Before she could make sense of anything, lightning arced overhead, followed almost immediately by the rumble of thunder.
She blinked fully awake, grabbed her book and slid her feet back into her shoes. She barely made it to their tents before rain started pelting them.
“Why don’t you come into mine?” Xander suggested. “It’s more roomy. I’ve got a four-person while yours is only a two. We could look through the footage I’ve shot so far and you can tell me if there’s anything you don’t want me to use in the final edit I upload.”
She hesitated for a fraction of a second, the remnants of that dream floating through her memory like wisps of morning mist curling off the lake. This was silly. It had only been a dream.
She ducked under the flap he held open and entered his tent. He followed right behind her, zipping the rain fly closed.
He was right; his tent was much bigger than hers, with plenty of room for a sleep pad, his sleeping bag and a couple of inflatable seat cushions beside the pad.
“Cozy,” she said.
“Might as well have all the comforts of home when you’re camping, especially when you have horses helping you haul extra gear into the wilderness.”
The next hour was one of the most enjoyable afternoons she could remember in a long time. While rain pattered the roof of the tent and distant thunder rumbled across the lake, they looked at the footage he had shot and laughed together at their blooper roll.
As she watched, he edited together several clips, making it all look effortless.
“You’re so good at that,” she said when he played it for her.
“I’ve had lots of practice,” he said with a rueful smile.
“How many hours of content do you have up on your channel?”
“I don’t know. Around three hundred, maybe.”
“That is amazing! With millions and millions of hits. How many people travel virtually through your vlogs or plan their own trips? You help people escape when they have to stay home.”
The tips of his ears turned slightly red with embarrassment, but she could tell he was pleased. “I’m happy I found something I enjoy.”
“You always talked about how much you wanted to travel. Through hard work and sheer talent, you’ve made all your dreams come true.”
He studied her before his gaze slid back to his laptop. “Not quite all of them,” he said, his tone unreadable.
What did he mean by that? What other dreams hadn’t come true? And why did his words make her ache for something she couldn’t identify?
“What else do you want to accomplish? Is there a destination you’ve been dying to visit?”
The sudden tension lifted and he appeared to consider the question. “I could spend an entire year in India and still not get enough of the country. I also haven’t spent enough time on the ocean. I would love to learn how to sail and head out across the great expanse.”
She didn’t like either of those ideas. If he went to India, how would she survive not seeing him for a year? And anything could happen on the ocean.
