Her validation means a lot, even if it isn’t necessary.
“I mean, we all knew something would happen between you two eventually. Just not quite like this,” she adds with a chuckle.
I frown, surprised by that remark. “You did?”
“Duh,” she teases playfully. “You two have basically been married since you were eight years old, just without all the sexy perks.” Her eyebrows dance suggestively making me laugh.
“It’s called being best friends, you goof.”
“No,” she insists, shaking her head vehemently. “Best friends spend a lot of time together. They share dreams and secrets, lean on each other when times are tough. But they don’t make every major life decision based on the other. They don’t plan their lives around each other. And that’s exactly what you and Gunnar have done. It’s not a bad thing,” she rushes out. “But it’s not a best friend thing either. It’s a couple thing. Which is why you never dated anyone.”
“I’ve dated,” I counter defensively, before quickly recanting. “Kinda.”
Harlow scoffs. “Please, notebook Johnny from your business class in the big city doesn’t count,” she says, referring to the guy who always walked with his notebook strategically placed to cover his obvious erection.
He was so nervous when he asked me out that I couldn’t bring myself to say no, and it ended up being the most awkward dinner I’ve ever had. Never mind the attempted kiss afterward. Needless to say, there wasn’t a second date.
“But even if it did count,” Harlow continues, “you never told Gunnar about it. Why?”
“Because there was nothing to tell,” I exclaim, my voice rising in exasperation. “It was just dinner. Besides, it would have made things weird between us. Gunnar and I don’t share that stuff with each other. We never have. It’s just how it is between us. How it’s always been and …” My words stop mid-sentence as I realize how ridiculous I sound. “Oh, hell. Who am I kidding?” I grumble, sinking down onto the stool next to me.
“Not us,” Penny interjects, sharing a chuckle with Harlow.
Their amusement brings a slight smile to my lips. “Okay, fine. Maybe you’re right,” I finally concede. “I guess it’s just easier to cling to the familiarity of friendship because anything more means uncertainty, and that scares me. Gunnar has always been my best friend, and I don’t ever want to lose that.” My fear is palpable in that admission.
“Maybe you have to, in order to gain more,” Penny replies softly.
“She’s right,” Harlow adds, cutting back in. “I know that’s a scary thought, Elle, but maybe the truth is, you and Gunnar were never meant to be just friends. Maybe you guys have always been destined for more.”
I reflect on the whirlwind of emotions I’ve experienced this past week, the undeniable rightness of it all, and can’t help but wonder if they’re right. Perhaps Gunnar and I have always been destined for something more.
The thought transports me back to the time Gunnar and I set out to test the legend of one mountain—a tale of true love that ended up shattering my eight-year-old heart.
But perhaps I was wrong. Maybe the legend isn’t just a myth, but rather a magic that reveals itself over time.
That possibility seeps into the depths of my soul, carrying with it the weight of newfound hope.
I smile at my two friends, thankful for their support. “You guys are the best.”
“We know.” Harlow beams proudly, slinging an arm around Penny’s shoulders.
Laughing, I rise from my chair and embrace them in a quick group hug before returning to our respective tasks.
As the afternoon wears on, I find myself constantly glancing at the clock, counting down the minutes to my evening with Gunnar, eager to discover what he has planned.
Gunnar
Country music drifts through the late summer night as Ellie and I relax in the bed of my truck in front of Heart Mountain, enjoying views most people wish they could experience just once in their lifetime.
Typically, I prefer rock music, but listening to Ellie softly sing Lainey Wilson’s “Things A Man Oughta Know” while leaning against the cab, petting Bear, and reading the baby book I bought her, I decide I will gladly listen to anything as long as it’s with her.
The lyrics she sings remind me of her. By looks, Ellie is as feminine as they come, but there are a few things she can do that a man oughta know. Sometimes even better, and I love that about her. It’s one of the reasons we became friends so quickly when we were younger, and she filled that best friend role better than any guy ever could.
Little did I know back then that one day we would end up here, but I’m damn glad we have because this past week with her has been the best of my entire existence.
Most evenings were spent with us in bed, losing ourselves in each other, and as much as I have loved every second of it, I know she deserves more. Which is why I decided to bring her here tonight.
The radiant smile I was rewarded with when we pulled up to her favorite mountain was worth all the last-minute running around. She was especially excited when she spotted the empty glass jars I brought with me, knowing what they would be used for.
After spreading out the blankets and cushions in the bed of my truck, Bear led the way as Ellie and I went on the hunt for fireflies, a favorite pastime of hers.
It didn’t take long before we were back at the truck, settled into the cushions, and eating from the picnic basket I had the local bakery pack for us.
The glow from the lightning bugs and the full moon above us illuminate the high mountaintops and lush spruce trees, creating a picture-perfect landscape. Add in the fresh, crisp air and the beautiful girl next to me, and I am convinced there is nothing better happening in the world right now than this.
“What do you think about the name Elliot for a boy?” she asks, looking up from the book she has in her hand. “That might be cute.”
I grunt my disagreement.
“What’s wrong with it?” she asks, affronted.
“Nothing, if you want him to get his ass kicked every day.”
A subtle gasp parts her lips before anger sparks in her eyes. “You listen to me, Gunnar Brooks.” She points at me. “No one will ever hurt our child. If they even attempt it, we’ll both be throwing hands. Got it?”
Her fiery outburst draws a chuckle from me. “Don’t worry, he’ll know how to take care of himself, I’ll make sure of it,” I promise. “But that doesn’t mean we’re going to make life hard for him by giving him a wimpy name like Elliot.”
