Anywhere (16 page)

We talked with them for hours—dinner is an evening-long affair in Europe—over plates of wurst and baskets of bread that included these fresh-baked soft pretzels that were the size of dinner plates. The party atmosphere made me think of my brother, how he’d love this place, so I turned on my phone and sent him a quick text.

ME:
I’m in Munich at the Hofbrauhaus, which I’m pretty sure means “Large Beer Partyhouse” in English. You should totally come here when you’re older. And, you know, legal.

JUSTIN:
I’ll start making plans. What’s the legal drinking age in Germany?

ME:
I don’t know. 2? I swear I saw a couple of kids inside with sippy cups of beer. (Just kidding.) (Probably.)

JUSTIN:
I’m on a plane tonight!

ME:
I WISH. It would have been fun to do this with you. You’d like it here.

JUSTIN:
I’m glad you’re having fun. Drink some beer for me!

ME:
You know I’d take a bullet for you, but there’s no way I’m drinking beer. Too gross! But I had wine in Italy. Does that count?

JUSTIN:
Nope. This is not the kind of thing you can retroactivate.

ME:
First of all, retroactivate is totally NOT a word. And second, I’ll drink something else in your honor. How’s lemonade sound?

JUSTIN:
Like something you’d drink for a little kid.

ME:
Then it’s perfect for you! Consider it DONE.

I slipped my phone back into my pocket, and then smiled at Asher. His arm brushed against mine, making me hyperaware of his every move, of every millimeter of his skin I could feel against mine. I didn’t move away. I should have, but I didn’t.

Asher laughed when I ordered lemonade. I’m pretty sure I was the only person in the garden not drinking beer.

“I’m the Designated Walker tonight,” I said. “One of has to make sure we make it back to the right hostel and into the right room.”

“Ever so practical.”

After several hours and two huge beers, Asher stumbled and laughed all the way back to our room, his arm slung over my shoulders as I held onto his waist.

“You’re so beautiful, Skye,” he said as I guided him through the door and over onto the bed. I laughed as he immediately fell back onto it and gazed up at the ceiling as I slipped his shoes off. “You’re the most beautiful Skye I’ve ever seen.”

“And you’re drunk,” I said with a smile.

“Doesn’t make it not untrue,” he said, then he looked confused. “Wait. Did I say that right?” He thought about it for a few seconds then shook his head. “I don’t know. I meant it’s the truth. Even if I am drunk. You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever loved.”

My heart flipped.
Loved?
He had
not
just said that. But he was drunk, I reminded myself. Drunks love everything and everyone. So I just shook my head.

“I don’t think you need to turn this into one of those I-love-you-man moments. Go to sleep, Asher.”

He closed his eyes and sighed happily. I went into the bathroom to brush my teeth and get changed, and when I came out he looked like he was already asleep. But he stirred as I crawled into bed and tried to slip silently under the sheet. His arms came around and pulled me close.

As he nestled his face into my hair, I closed my eyes. “You smell good,” he said. “Gooder than anybody else.”

“You smell like beer.” I laughed and snuggled closer. “Go to sleep.”

“I’m glad you’re here,” he mumbled, his words falling away as he slipped into sleep. “I’ve been waiting for you…my whole…” And that was it. His breathing settled into an even rhythm and his arms relaxed around me.

And I could barely breathe.

He didn’t mean it. He was just a happy drunk, nothing more.

Because
if
he meant it…

And
if
I was feeling the same way (which I wasn’t because I
couldn’t
—I was leaving in two weeks)…

But if I
was
…then how could I let him go?

nineteen

“W
ho turned up the sun?” Asher whispered as he pulled the covers over his head.

I’d been up for an hour already, had showered and gotten dressed, sent the daily texts to Paige and my mother, and tried to get caught up in my travel journal. There was so much I knew I’d never remember about this trip, that I wanted to make sure I wrote down as much as I possibly could. I wanted to be able to take these memories out, dust them off, and look through them again in years to come. Who knew what my future would hold? These might be the best weeks of my life.

They certainly felt like it.

I grabbed the glass of water I had waiting for him and a couple of ibuprofen, and went to sit next to him on the bed.

“Don’t sit so loud,” he said, and I laughed—quietly. “Oh my god,” he said, “don’t do that either.”

“Here.”

He lifted the sheet from his face and squinted at my offering. Then he took the pills, placed them gingerly in his mouth, and drank the entire glass.

“Give me half an hour,” he said, and lay back down on the bed, his arm across his face.

An hour later he was showered, dressed, and we were on our way out to find some food. He was walking slow, but he was upright, which was an improvement. We found the farmer’s market, bought some bread, fruit, unbelievably-delicious-looking pastries, and some more gargantuan soft pretzels.

“Coffee,” Asher said. “I
need
coffee.”

Half an hour later, we had a picnic breakfast spread out before us as we sat on the grass in the Englischer Garten—this huge park, even bigger than Central Park, in the middle of Munich. Asher drank his coffee, ate a little bit of bread, then lay back down and fell asleep.

I watched him, and tried not to think about what he’d said to me last night nor how it had made me feel. Why couldn’t I have met him under different circumstances? Fate was cruel.

Asher felt like a gift—the best one I’d ever gotten.

And the only one I couldn’t keep.

I wished Paige were here so I could talk with her about it. Tell her about Asher. Ask her what to do.

I pulled out my phone and typed:
I met someone and he’s amazing.
I stared at the words, my finger hovering over the SEND button. As soon as she got it, she’d pump me for information. And the thing is, I wanted to tell her. I wanted to talk about Asher. I wanted to share this with her.

So why was I hesitating? Because talking about something—saying it out loud to someone—always made it more real. And if it was real, what I was feeling, then it would hurt that much more when it was time for me to leave.

I hit DELETE.

We spent the afternoon wandering through the park after Asher woke up. It was an amazing place—you feel like you’re out in the country rather than in the middle of a large city. There were huge open green fields where people sunbathed, picnicked, and played, and even an artificial river that people were actually surfing on. It was incredibly cool, and we watched for a long time.

We even passed by the clothing-optional part of the park. Seriously. There were people sunbathing COMPLETELY naked in the middle of the city! Even old men with their goods on display. And, really, who wants to see THAT?

“Shall we?” Asher said, starting to take off his t-shirt. He’d completely recovered by this time and was, unfortunately at that very moment, back to his normal self.

“Um…
no
.”

“Aw, come on. Don’t you want to experience part of the culture? Immerse yourself, Skye! Immerse!”

“Um…again,
no
,” I said. Asher started pulling me out into the field with the people in all their naked glory, and I was trying desperately to keep my eyes from landing anywhere
near
their glory. It’s not like I’m a prude, and I have a
full
appreciation for the human body—especially Asher’s, but I was trying not to think about
that
either.

BUT these were just regular people laying out in the sun completely naked.

No.

No, no, no, NO.

Asher had his t-shirt off and was starting to unbutton his shorts, a huge grin on his face as I grabbed for his hands.

“Asher!” I said, knowing I was blushing brightly by now. “Stop it. I’m not doing this. I’ve never even skinny-dipped, so I’m not about to take all my clothes off in public for everyone to see.”

He stopped, tilted his head to one side. “You’ve never gone skinny-dipping? Aw, now that’s a rite of passage. We can probably fix that relatively soon.”

I looked at him. “We’ll see.”

“I’m going to take that as a
yes
,” he said, and he put his shirt back on. Then he slipped his hand into mine and we kept walking, my gaze staying far away from the sunbathers.

“In all honesty,” Asher said quietly a few minutes later, “I don’t know if I could have done it anyway.”

“Sunbathe nude?”

“Lie next to you naked and not…” He didn’t have to finish that sentence.

“I’m guessing they don’t allow
that
in public.”

“No, they probably don’t.” He laughed and gently squeezed my hand, setting the butterflies dancing in my stomach.

We took a few more steps before I said, “I don’t know if I could have done that either—lay next to you.”

He turned to look at me then, his eyes going straight to my lips. We’d both stopped walking and just stared at each other. Heat emanated off of him and…
want
. The air was charged between us, and I felt as if I were being pulled to him magnetically, by a force of nature that I could not resist even if I’d wanted to.

I didn’t want to.

I wanted Asher.

I wasn’t aware of moving and I didn’t see Asher move, but there we were face-to-face, lips only inches apart. He was breathing fast and I couldn’t take any air in. He was taking it all. He was taking me.

He leaned down slowly, searching my eyes with a question on his face. I leaned toward him and that was all the answer he needed. His lips met mine and I was awash in flame. My skin felt hot all over, my blood rushing through my body as I slid my hands up under his shirt. His muscles clenched as my fingers explored the feel of the skin over his abs, then his chest, and slid around to his back.

He’d taken my face in his hands, moaning into me as I opened my mouth to welcome him. He nipped at my lips, teasing my tongue with his own. He tasted like summer, and I couldn’t get close enough to him. I ran my hands down his back to his hips and pulled them against mine.

He deepened the kiss as his hands found my waist and held me to him. His fingers curled into the top of my shorts and his thumbs started making these small maddening circles on my sides, sending shivers all over my body.

Oh my god, I wanted him.

But I pulled away, every cell in my body crying bloody murder at me for stopping the delirious whirlwind of feelings flooding my system. But I had to.

As I looked at him, tears filled my eyes. It was so unfair—this boy that I couldn’t have.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “It’s not that I don’t want you.” I took a deep breath, trying to keep myself from completely falling apart. I’d never wanted anyone more in my life and it was killing me to say no to this. To him. “I do. With everything I am, I do.”

“Me, too,” he said, and he pulled me to him, rested his forehead against mine. “But I get it. You’re leaving. And there’s…London.” He didn’t say her name. I was so glad he didn’t say her name.

Even so, I closed my eyes and the tears slid slowly down my face as we stood there, our heads together as if in silent prayer. Life went on all around us—I could hear people talking and birds twittering in the trees, as sunlight filtered through the leaves, casting lacy shadows on the path around us.

“Hey,” Asher said, leaning back and reaching up to brush my tears away. “It’s okay, Skye. Everything’s okay.” Then he put his arm around my shoulders. “Let’s walk. You wanna get something to eat?”

I was not the least bit hungry, but I shrugged. It was better than going back to our room. I wasn’t ready for that yet, and the day was easing into evening around us.

Once we were out of the park, we passed through the marketplace. The vendors were starting to close up for the night, packing their goods away. Asher paused in front of a flower stall. All different kinds of flowers in brilliant colors stuck out of buckets on top of the table and on the ground all around it. He walked over to some deep red-orange flowers with a circle of golden yellow in the middle that looked kind of like huge daisies. He picked one out, handed the lady some coins, then walked back to me, the flower an offering.

The stem was velvet soft and deep green, the petals rounded on the end. I stared at it, not so much seeing the beauty of the flower as I was the beauty of the gesture, then looked up at him with a smile that reached all the way into my heart, and took the flower.

It was such a simple thing, that flower. A fleeting gift that would be gone in a few days, petal by dropping petal.

But in that moment? It felt like so much more.