Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 84228 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 421(@200wpm)___ 337(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84228 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 421(@200wpm)___ 337(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
“Relax,” I tell her, steering the boat away from the dock.
“Should you be rowing with your back toward everything?” she asks, looking around. “I know you’re a daredevil and all, but I don’t think it’s the right thing to do. Surely, there’s a YouTube video we can watch before we go any farther, right?”
“I promise you that I know what I’m doing,” I tell her and then slowly move over. “I mean, worst case, the water is warm this time of year.” Chuckling, I look over my shoulder and see boats scattered everywhere. I row up around the bend, and it finally comes into view.
“Oh my God,” she says, her eyes big and wide. “Are those cherry blossoms?” I watch her face, then look over my shoulder and slow my pace. The trees have gone from green to a light white and are now a soft pink. She takes her phone out of her pocket and then looks at me. “I won’t get you in the shot.” Holding her phone up, she snaps pictures of the pink trees.
“Give me your phone,” I say, but she ignores me. I take the oars and lock them in place so I take my own out, and I snap a picture of her with the blossoms hanging over her head. She looks at me when I’m taking the picture, and she smiles. “I won’t post it anywhere.” I wink at her.
“Look over there.” She points at the side of the water where it looks pink because the fallen cherry blossoms are floating on top. We have drifted into the middle of it, and the cherry blossom trees cover our heads with the sun peeking in just a touch.
“This is the most beautiful place I’ve ever been to,” she says, smiling as her eyes capture the scene. With her phone in her hand, she’s trying to catch the beauty of it, but nothing will capture the beauty of this moment. Sitting here with her, I admire her eyes and how they sparkle in happiness without a care. I snap another picture of her, and she looks at me. She turns her back to me, puts her hand in the air, and I see us fill the screen. “Say cheese,” she says, and I smile as she takes three pictures. “This is off the record,” she tells me, turning and scrolling through the pictures of us. “I give you my word that no one will see this picture.”
“I believe you,” I tell her, looking around. “I don’t think you would put yourself in that position.” Laughing, I say, “Being linked to me for the rest of your life just because we took a picture on a boat. I wish it wasn’t true. I wish that you could post that picture, and it would simply be two friends enjoying their day.” Shaking my head, I look away from her, then turn back to look at her. “The pros and cons, right?” I try to make a joke of it, but the reality of who I am and who she is, both with careers often directly at odds with each other, is the ever-present white elephant in the room.
“I understand you now,” she says softly, putting the phone down. “Will the boat capsize if I come over there and sit with you?” Stopping when she feels the boat tilt side to side, she slowly comes over and sits next to me. “Just so you know, I wouldn’t put myself or you in that situation. What we speak about when I’m not sitting in that room is between us, and I hope you trust me enough to know that.” I want to reach out and touch her face, to see if her skin is as soft as it looks. I want to see if her eyes change when I touch her. To see if she feels this, whatever the fuck this thing is. She takes my phone from my hand and opens the camera from the lock screen. “Smile,” she says. I put my arm around her shoulder, and we take a picture of the two of us. “There. Now if I leak mine, you can leak yours.”
I chuckle, and neither of us move as we sit here and people watch. “Do you ever look at people and make up a story about them in your head?” she asks me, and I look down at her. “Like that boat over there.” She points over at a boat where the girl and guy are almost in the same position as we are. “First date. He likes her more than she likes him.”
I smile. “Or she’s cheating on her husband, and he has no idea.”
She looks over at me. “Oh, that’s a good one.” She laughs, and for the next little while, we make up stories about the people around us. Neither of us moving, my arm still hanging on her shoulder. “Should we head back?” she asks, and I want to say no. “It’s almost four,” she says, and I don’t know how the time passed so fast. “I’m getting hungry.”