The Longest Ride

shelf opposite the windows lay a random assortment of books that she guessed had been left behind by other visitors, some hunting decoys – ducks – and a stuffed squirrel. A small television with rabbit-ear antennas sat in the center of the shelf, and though she didn’t bother to turn it on, she doubted it received more than one or two channels, if that.

She heard the water come on again and when the bathroom door squeaked open, Luke stepped out, looking clean and fresh in jeans and a white button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up. He was barefoot, and he looked as though he’d raked his fingers through his wet hair rather than using a comb. From across the room, she could see a small white scar on his cheek, one she’d never noticed before.

“It’s all yours,” he said. “I’ve already got the water going for you.”

“Thank you,” she said. She kissed him briefly as she passed him. “I’ll probably be thirty or forty minutes.”

“Take your time. I’ve got to get dinner going anyway.”

“Another specialty?” she called from the bedroom, where she scooped up her overnight bag.

“I like it.”

“Does anyone else?”

“That’s a good question. I guess we’ll find out soon, huh?”

As promised, the water was already filling in the tub. It was hotter than she’d expected, and she turned the other faucet, trying to cool it a bit, wishing for some bubble bath or scented baby oil.

She undressed, conscious of the soreness in her legs and lower back. She hoped she wouldn’t be too stiff to walk tomorrow. Reaching for her wine, she slipped into the water, feeling luxurious despite her modest surroundings.

The bathroom had a small separate shower stall, and Luke had slung his used towel over the rod. The fact that he’d been naked in here only a few minutes earlier made something flutter in her lower belly.

She’d known what might happen this weekend. For the first time, they wouldn’t say good-bye near her car; tonight, she wouldn’t return to the sorority house. But being with Luke felt natural. It felt right, even if she admitted to herself she wasn’t all that experienced in these kinds of things. Brian had been the first and only guy she’d ever slept with. It had happened at the Christmas formal, when they’d already been dating for two months. She hadn’t known it would happen that night, but like everyone else, she was having fun and probably drinking too much, and when he brought her up to the room, they ended up making out on the bed. Brian was insistent, the room was spinning, and one thing led to the next. In the morning, she wasn’t sure quite what to think about it. Nor was Brian there to help her – she vaguely remembered him talking to some friends the night before about having Bloody Marys in one of their rooms the next morning. She stumbled to the shower with a headache the size of Wisconsin, and as the spray ricocheted off her, a million thoughts raced through her head. She was relieved to have finally done it – like everyone else, she’d wondered what it would be like – and was glad it had been with Brian, in a bed, as opposed to a backseat or something equally awkward. But for some reason, it also felt a little sad. She could imagine what her mom would think – or, God forbid, her dad – and frankly, she’d thought herself that it would be more… something . Meaningful. Romantic. Memorable. But really, what she wanted most of all just then was to head back to campus.

After that, Brian was like most guys, she supposed. Whenever they were alone, he wanted something physical, and for a while, she supposed she did, too. But then it began to feel as if it were all he ever wanted, and that began to bother her, even before he’d cheated on her.

And now here she was, alone with a guy overnight for the first time since Brian. She wondered why she wasn’t nervous, but she wasn’t. Instead, she soaped up the washcloth and ran it over her skin, imagining what Luke was doing in the kitchen. She wondered if he was thinking about her as she soaked in the tub, maybe even picturing what she looked like without clothing, and again, she felt a flutter in her lower belly.

She wanted this, she realized. She wanted to fall in love with someone she could trust. And she trusted Luke. Never once had he pressed her to do something she hadn’t wanted; never once had he been anything less than a perfect gentleman. The more time she’d spent with him, the more