Forever This Time (30 page)

“Midnight bowling?”

Josie grimaced, but tried to hide it. No such luck.

“Okay, Wellesley princess, what is it that your highness would prefer to do this evening?”

“Shut up, Mols. I just wish we had choices
besides
midnight bowling.”

“Well, in three short weeks, you can go clubbing and see artsy late-night films and take a midnight Boston Harbor cruise if you want. Meanwhile, me and Ethan will still be here … going midnight bowling.” She linked her arm in his. “Which, I should add, you have always actually liked to do.”

“I
do
like it. I'm just … I don't know. I'm just a little sick of it, maybe?”

Before the words were out of her mouth, Josie saw two different expressions of hurt. Molly didn't try all that hard to hide hers, but Ethan's disappeared behind a steely mask almost as quickly as it had appeared.

“Well.” Molly pulled her tiny purse from under the register. “I'm going bowling. Ethan? You coming?”

Ethan looked from one to the other of them, sensing a female standoff but knowing instinctively that he had the wrong chromosomes to understand it. He reached out for Josie. “Come on, Jos. Let's go.”

Josie sighed. “I need to use the ladies' room. I'll be out in a second.” She turned to head down the back hallway, but before she got to the bathroom, she turned back to see Molly and Ethan heading toward the door, Molly's head on Ethan's shoulder.

Yup. She was leaving. They were both staying.

There were a lot of ways this could go.

*   *   *

Twenty minutes later, Josie felt like she'd been teleported back ten years. When they'd been teenagers—and before she'd tired of it—midnight bowling had been a highlight of the week in a town that had nothing at all going on after dusk. But she hadn't picked up a bowling ball, hadn't tied on god-awful ugly saddle shoes, hadn't washed down greasy pizza with a pitcher of Pepsi since she'd left town.

She looked around the alley as they waited for shoes, and was struck by a strange comfort. Balls bombed down the lanes and hit the pins with satisfying crashes. The smell of pepperoni hung in the air, and colorful pitchers of soda were scattered on the tables behind the lanes. Strobe lights flashed, and high-pitched laughter hit her ears every few seconds.

Ethan turned from the counter and handed her some shoes, looking down at her feet. “Can you fit into an adult shoe yet?”

Josie rolled her eyes. “I'm sure these will be fine, thanks.” They made their way to the farthest lane, bypassing six empty ones on the way. “Did you request this lane on purpose?”

“Maybe.”

“Afraid to have anyone see me beat you?”

Molly sat down to put on her bowling shoes. “He's probably just protecting the innocent.” She pulled the laces tight. “Or maybe they still have your name on the black list up there.”

Josie sat down across the table from her and pulled off her sneakers. “It wasn't my fault. The ball got stuck on my thumb.”

“We know.” Molly pointed up at the tiled ceiling. “You can still tell that part had to be repaired.”

Ethan laughed as he tied his own shoes. “I think they were more concerned about the lane they had to repair when the ball came back
down
.”

“I was still pulling ceiling chips out of my hair three days later.” Josie grimaced.

“You're lucky they weren't pulling the
ball
out of your
head.
”

Molly found a ball that fit her fingers and placed it on the ball return. “Well, it almost won us a trip to California for that funniest video show.”

“But we were beaten out by giggling triplet babies. Go figure.” Josie pulled a ball off the rack, but it almost pulled her shoulder out of its socket, so she swung it back in. Her only goal here was to not make a complete and utter fool of herself. If pins went down, that'd be a bonus.

“Okay, princess. You're up.” Molly pointed her way.

“You can stop calling me princess, Molly.” Josie finally found a ball she could lift, and that let her fingers slide in and out, so she pulled it off the rack.

“Sorry. Habit.” Molly actually looked a little chagrined as Josie passed her on the way to the lane.

Ethan motioned toward the sides of the lane. “Need the bumpers?”

“Never mind bumpers. Alert the seagulls on the roof.” Molly laughed.

Josie pushed her fingers into the slightly scratchy holes and pulled the ball to her chest, looking down the lane toward the pins. She tried to remember which foot to lead off on, when to swing the ball back, when to let go, but it had been so long that she knew it was going to be a disaster.

She took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. Then she tried to coordinate stepping and swinging and letting go and not falling, and remarkably, the ball left her hand and sailed smoothly down the lane with a deep, rolling grumble.

She backed up slowly, watching the ball, but her jaw dropped as it crashed into the pins and felled every single one of them. A strike? Her? Had that ever happened before? She turned around and laughed out loud when she saw Ethan's expression.

“Holy shit. That was a strike.”

“Mm-hm.” Josie blew on her fingertips, then wiped them on her shirt.

“You've never gotten a strike.”

“You don't know that.”

Ethan got to his feet, shaking his head, then took his time lining up his shot. Josie smiled at his concentration, knowing he'd be damned before he'd lose to her. She tried not to look too hard at his body while he stood there, but couldn't stop herself. Her eyes traveled up his jeans, focused for a moment on his perfectly tight butt, then continued up his back, where his shoulder muscles tensed.

She realized she was biting her lip just about the same time she sensed Molly's eyes on her, and she looked over, trying not to flush with guilt. To her credit, Molly kept her mouth shut, but her eyebrows went up in a knowing way, and she narrowed her eyes as she watched Ethan's ball fly down the lane.

 

Chapter 30

After Molly had stumbled sleepily out of the truck at Bellinis a couple of hours later, Ethan paused with his hands on the wheel. “So. Where to next?”

Josie squirmed. It was past midnight, and ten years ago, they would've sped out to the lake without a second thought, then gotten lost in the blankets in back. She was frightened by how much of her wanted to do it again, especially after Mama B's little live-for-the-moment speech earlier. “It's … it's late.”

“Do you have a curfew?” He raised his eyebrows, the edges of his lips tilting up. God, how she wanted to take her seat belt off, slide onto his lap, and kiss those lips again.

She shook her head and swallowed hard, thankful for the darkness that was hopefully hiding the blush she could feel creeping up her cheeks. “No curfew.”

He reached a hand across the cab and ever-so-gently tucked a lock of hair off her face and behind her ear. “We could just talk, you know. I know I'm a man and all, but I do have the self-control to drive us to the lake, turn off the truck, and just talk.”

“Really.”

“Scout's honor.” He raised his right hand, then shifted into gear. “C'mon. It's summer, it's hot, it's too early to go home. Let's go to the lake.”

She grimaced as she turned to the side window. Yes, it was the hot part that was going to get them both in trouble.

When they'd both gotten out of the truck at Twilight Cove, Ethan took Josie's hand in a move so natural it transported her, like she'd time-traveled back to the days when they were still a couple. “Waterfall path?”

Josie didn't answer, just let Ethan pull her toward the path that had been one of their favorite walks back then, even in the daylight when they hadn't been trying to sneak off and be alone. The moon was full and the sky was clear, so the light among the elms and maples was a dappled grayish filter.

She swallowed hard. “This lighting is perfect for a horror film.”

“Don't worry. No serial killers out here.”

“They always have a first victim.” Josie stumbled over a twig, but Ethan's strong hand tightened around hers, and she managed to avoid an embarrassing face plant. “Do you remember that time David snuck up on us out here?”

“Unfortunately, yes.”

“We were so busted.”

“He loved it. Pops gave him my truck keys for the entire next week.”

“Which should have been a pretty strong reason not to let it happen again.”

Ethan stopped on the path, but Josie plowed into him because her eyes were searching out rogue stones and branches. He reached out his other arm to steady her. “Apparently you were a stronger reason to risk it.”

Josie swallowed hard as his eyes searched hers. If he kissed her now, she'd be powerless to resist. The night air, the waterfall path, the sounds, the smells … it was just too much. His arm fell to his side, then he turned back up the path. “And even though I want to stop right here in the moonlight and kiss you silly and remind you of just
why
I was willing to risk my Chevy for a few minutes alone with you, I'll be good and keep walking because I promised we'd just talk.”

Josie laughed tightly. Was she relieved? Or disappointed?

“Good boy.”

A couple of minutes later, she could hear the splash of the waterfall that signaled the end of the Abenaki River and the beginning of Echo Lake. Ethan braced his arms on the huge glacial rock that had been their favorite spot years ago, and hauled himself up. Then he reached down and lifted Josie like she weighed no more than a cat.

He set her down, but didn't let go, and her eyes lifted to meet his. Long seconds passed where all she could hear was the water and her own hitched breathing, but finally Ethan slid his hands ever so slowly down her sides and back to his own. “Right. Well. Here we are. Just talking. Want to sit?”

“Sure. Yes. Okay.” She floundered for words.

He spread his windbreaker on the rock and they lowered themselves to sit side by side facing the lake. “Doesn't get any prettier than this, does it?”

Josie pulled her knees up to her chest. Through a break in the trees, the lake glistened in the moonlight, the tiniest of ripples breaking its glassy surface. To their left, water cascaded down a series of boulders, pooling waist-deep in a couple of places. The rock they were on sat just five feet above the biggest pool, and unless the wind came from the north, the waterfall's spray stayed shy of their spot.

“Do you ever come out here?” Her voice was soft as she asked, somehow dying to know that he had never brought anyone else out here.

“Wouldn't have been the same.”

Josie felt her shoulders relax. He may have moved on, but at least some things he'd kept sacred, like this spot. It meant something to him, too. “Remember how you were going to build a log cabin out on the island?” She pointed at a tiny spot of land in the middle of the lake. It was barely big enough to house a family of otters, let alone humans.

“I had a lot of plans for getting you alone back then.” He smiled as he gazed out at the island. “Funny how reality doesn't matter all that much when you're eighteen.”

“Reality's somewhat overrated.”

Ethan chuckled softly. “This from a therapist.”

“I know. I should know better. So do you still want to build a log cabin someday?”

“Not really. No.” Ethan idly snapped a tiny twig into pieces and tossed them in the water. “So what's your apartment like in Boston?”

“Tiny. Warm. Smells like bread all day because there's a deli underneath. It's nice. Brick. Old.” Josie scrambled to find words to describe it, and couldn't figure out why it was so hard. Did she not want him to find fault with it, even from afar, even without ever seeing it? Didn't she love it there?

“It's—charming, I guess. But mostly tiny.”

“Must be nice to have everything so convenient.”

“Dangerous sometimes. Lou's pastrami on rye is going to be the reason I die of an early heart attack.”

Ethan leaned back on his hands, casual, like he had all night. “So are you getting rich and famous now?”

“Sickeningly so, yes. I might be able to move to a full eight-hundred-square-foot apartment in a few years.”

Ethan shook his head. “Jos, did you ever, even once in the past ten years, consider coming back here?”

“That depends.”

“On what?”

“Whether you mean back here … or back to you.”

“Either. Both. I don't know.”

She picked up a piece of shale and started doodling on the rock under her legs. “Of course I did. This place is all I knew. Boston was big and scary. The first year was a little hellish.”

“But you never?”

“I never. I couldn't. I was trying so hard to make my own way, do my own thing, be my own person.”

“Without me.”

She paused, thoughtful. “No. Not really. It wasn't nearly as much about that as it was about figuring out who I was, Eth. I knew nothing but this town and Camp Ho-Ho. We never even took a vacation anywhere else. I'd never crossed the state border till the time you and I snuck up to Montreal, and the second time was when I left for college. I just needed to … I don't know … it sounds so stupid and clichéd, but I needed to find out who I was.”

“So you got your degree, you started a counseling practice, you got a cat. Does that mean you've figured it out?”

Josie doodled faster. “I thought I had.”

“Until?” Ethan's eyes probed hers.

“Until now, I guess.”

“Now, as in this moment? Or as in this year? This month? This week?”