Free Blue Horizons (A Horizons Novel Book 1) by Kathryn Andrews

up on the other side of the lake but won’t remember the journey.
    Consciously, I track the number of houses I pass and slow down as I approach where the girls are staying. I went to bed last night thinking about the beautiful blonde and I woke up this morning thinking about her too. The house is quiet and I can’t help but wonder if she’s still asleep. Thoughts of her in bed with those gorgeous legs and full lips, every fiber of my being tightens and I let out a groan. I still say there’s something about her that feels eerily familiar. Maybe I’ll be able to figure out what it is later.
    Switching to high-angle paddling, the stroke pulls closer to the boat and my speed picks back up. I’ve made this trip around the lake no less than two hundred times and I love it as much now as I did the first time.
    I had been reluctant to go out last night, and Clay doesn’t even realize what he did for me, but it turned out to be just what I needed. It’s like they say, “When you least expect it is exactly when you’ll find it.” For quite some time now, I’ve been lost, confused, and not really sure what direction to go. It makes sense to go back to where it all started. Back to the roots. If I hadn’t been so adamant about hiding, I should have come up with this on my own.
    In many ways, last night I felt like a fly on the wall of my own life. The young guys on stage were laughing, singing, and just loving what they were doing. Hell, at some point in the night, they played one of our current songs and I found myself completely lost and absorbed in the music, just like I used to get. Music speaks for me, it feels for me, and it defines me. And after eight weeks, I had an answer to the first question . . . I do still love music. Now, I just need to figure out if I still love what I do with it.

 
     
    “GOOD MORNING, SLEEPYHEAD.” Emma grins at me as I walk into the kitchen and head for the coffee pot. Both she and Cora are sitting at the table looking very pleased with themselves. They are both itching to say “I told you so,” and I turn my back quickly so they can’t see me smile. I don’t know why I’m smiling—the evening definitely didn’t turn out like they think it did—but it still feels good.
    “Morning,” I mumble.
    “Spill it!” Emma yells at me and I jump. Both of them laugh.
    “There’s nothing to tell.” And if there was, I don’t know if I would. I pour the coffee and walk over to the French doors off of the kitchen to open them. Only getting to be here for a few days, I need to soak up as much of the mountains as I can; clean, cold air rushes in, and it feels and smells so good.
    “Not good enough, Av. Before you went out to call Mona, you practically bit my head off when I suggested you go over and talk to him, then the next thing I know you’re getting a ride home from him. You rode home with him! That is huge! We’re shocked and so proud of you! Now spill it. Tell us how you ended up with that piece of mancake and in his truck.”
    Mancake. The sound of this makes me grin and her comment about his truck has me reliving that feeling of freedom. The night air blowing across my face with the heat on our feet, some of my favorite music ever pumping through the sound system, and the excitement of knowing I was being spontaneous and enjoying the company of a guy. I briefly close my eyes and let out a sigh before turning to face them.
    “I hate to burst your bubble, but there’s not really much to tell.” I pull out a chair and join them at the table. “He went out the back door, scared me, I rammed my knee into his balls, we had a few awkward moments, and then he drove me home. Nothing happened.”
    “Wait, you crushed his junk?” Cora’s eyes widen with amusement and disbelief.
    “Yep, he grabbed me to keep me from falling and I overreacted.” A flush burns up my neck and through my cheeks. Both girls burst out laughing, and I bite my lip.
    “Av, that is so classic you. You