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The questions slips out while I’m too caught up in the grandeur to realize how sincere it sounds. It’s inquisitive and intimate—so unlike Gus and me.
To my surprise, he cants his head to the side. “Work,” he admits, sighing like he should know better.
“Work,” I repeat.
“Not tasks and to-dos,” he clarifies. He slides his beanie off and ruffles his black hair. “I think about ideas. The future. I think about what I could do to make millions of lives easier.”
“Calling it work seems wrong.” I also remove my hat to brush my hand through my hair. “I don’t know, August. To me, it sounds like a calling.”
He turns to face me, his expression surprised and a little impressed.
Wait, is he impressed?
“You’re right,” he finally agrees. “It’s not work when you’re in the place where you should be, doing exactly what you’re meant to do.”
Silently, we stare at each other and the moment grows inexplicably weighty.
Without a word, he reaches out and pushes my hair behind my ear, his blue eyes never leaving mine. They’re so light, they match the cloudless sky surrounding us—and yet they contrast starkly with his tan skin and black hair. Through and through, Gus Winter is a man of contrasts. He practically sweats money, and yet he chooses to live in a remote cabin. He can eat at any restaurant in existence, and yet he opts for simple, home-cooked fare. He’s disturbingly attractive, and yet he has devoted his life to sitting at a computer and building empires instead of ruling the world like a fucking king.
And he could sleep with any soft-spoken, affectionate homebody…and yet he selected a cold, wanderlusty bitch who wants him to choke her out and pull her hair.
“I don’t know where I should be or what I’m meant to do,” I whisper, the words practically spilling out.
I’ve never uttered those words, or any version of those words, to anyone.
Gus drags his thumb along my cheek. “If it weren’t so cold, I’d take you to this other spot. It’s a few hours’ walk, but it’s magnificent, Julia.”
At first, I wonder if he’s avoiding my comment. He takes a small step closer though, bringing our bodies inches apart. His eyes stay on mine, and I realize: He’s telling me that for now, I belong here. He doesn’t want me to go…he just doesn’t know how to say it.
And maybe I don’t know how to admit I don’t want to leave either.
“I’m sorry. Again,” he murmurs. “About earlier. I don’t know why…”
“Why we fight,” I finish, nodding softly. “Why we push each other’s buttons. I don’t know either.”
“I can’t stay angry at you though,” he goes on. “That’s unusual for me. I can usually hold a grudge like it’s my job, but now that I’ve spent time with you…Julia, you piss me off, but I struggle to stay mad at you.”
My heart shouldn’t surge, but I can’t help it. “It’s because you like fucking me, old man.”
When Gus slips into a small smile, it makes that surge even stronger. “Definitely part of it. But it’s more than that. You…”
For once, I wait.
“You can read me like a book. I’ll be honest—it’s scary. Maybe the scariest thing I’ve ever encountered in a woman, or anyone. Because believe it or not, I don’t want anyone to know me.”
His words are so honest and yet I’m so inexplicably sad for him. Something must have happened to Gus to make him the way he is. So harsh. So closed off. The man is so perfect on the outside, but behind the façade, there’s a loneliness I don’t think he even recognizes.
I do. I recognize it.
Because deep down, I suspect I’m the exact same.
“Too bad, August,” I murmur before I place my hand on his chest, feeling the gentle rise and fall of his breathing. “Because I’d love to know you. I’d probably like you if you’d let me.”
***
The sun is starting to set when we get back to the cabin. My nose is numb and my lips are stinging, but I wish we could stay outside. The views look more dazzling with every change of the sun’s angle, and I could envision myself spending an entire day watching the clouds pass over the trees. Not to mention, once we go back in, it’s time for me to pack and head to the airport.
Gus hesitates before he unlocks the backdoor with a code on the numbered keypad. He turns to face me and his lips part like he wants to say something. I wait. Instead, he opens the door and ushers me in.
