The next morning when Blake gets up at the crack of dawn to go for his run, I get up too. I putter around the kitchen making coffee and doing internet searches to satisfy my curiosity. Until now, I've resisted looking up Doctors International, but Blake is so committed to them, that I can't help digging a little deeper.

I've never loved a job the way that he seems to love his, and I'm not sure if it's the doctor part he enjoys so much or the travel or helping people in need. Could be all of it, I suppose. As I navigate around the website, I can't help wondering what else they do other than flying doctors all over the world.

The stairs creak, and Izzy clomps down, bleary eyed. I hold out a cup of coffee to her.

"Thanks. I'm so hungover. Why did we drink so much?"

Blake and I hardly drank at all, so the only ones with a hangover are her and Jeremy. Oddly, I don't miss that experience at all. Before this trip, I would have been in the thick of it right next to Izzy. Last night was fun enough without the excessive alcohol consumption. Who knew?

She closes her eyes and takes a deep sip. "You sleep with him?" She cracks one eye and peers at me.

"No." I glance at the bedroom. "But we slept in the same bed."

"For the first time? Or have you been keeping this bed sharing from me?"

"We've never shared a bed." A hotel room, a cabin, a tent, cottages, but we've never slept so close to each other. He stayed curled around me longer than I expected, but instead of finding the proximity suffocating, the firmness of him was comforting.

"So what happened last night?"

"The couch was old and uncomfortable."

"You're such a terrible liar."

"Nothing happened," I say with a shrug, trying to play it off. "We slept."

"Sure," Izzy says with a smirk. "You'll tell me the truth eventually. Have you heard anything more from all those schools you applied to?"

"Not really," I say. "Rejections or requests for more information. A few offered me a couple hundred dollars for a mature student scholarship, which isn't enough. To go back, I need the full ride." I run my fingers along the counter, pondering what I've just discovered. "Doctors International uses supply chain management grads to acquire their equipment and supplies."

Izzy's eyes widen to twice their size. "Did he ask you to work with him?"

"Well, no," I admit. "But if the point of this trip is to do something different..."

"The trip, yeah. But you're talking about when the trip is over. I thought you applied to the colleges to make a change? Graphic design." She points into the air on the final two words, as though she's reading them off a lit up sign. Gwen's life leads this way.

"My parents and Paige want that for me. Supply chain management is okay. I actually don't mind the job itself, it's just that I crave adventure too. Or, I don't know..." But I do know. I want Blake. After last night, I want as much of Blake as I can get. He's all I can think about, and the idea of never seeing him again after the next five weeks is physically painful. "Seemed like a good opportunity. Like meeting him might be fate tapping on my shoulder."

"Does Blake know you're thinking about this?"

I shake my head, and I start mixing a second cup of coffee. Since I just discovered it this morning, I suspect Blake knows I could work for his company and hasn't mentioned it. Given how dedicated he is, he probably thinks I can't handle the commitment. Could I?

"Don't you think you should talk to him about it?"

"I wouldn't have to go to the same place as him."

"Can we just cut the bullshit? I know you. You're totally thinking about it because of him. He's the reason. That's a big decision to hinge on a guy, though, Gwen. Up to now, you've always said that you aren't the kind of woman who follows a man around. A guy either fits into the life you want, or you kick him out of your bed."

"I know," I say, my tone sharp. Most of the time, I didn't even get into bed with that sort of man in the first place—one who was so career driven that I was more of an accessory than a person. Those were the types of men my sister favored while I went for the stoner party boys. Blake isn't either of those, though. "I just mentioned it was an option. I didn't say I was doing it."

"You should talk to him before you apply for anything." She sets down her coffee. "Would that job make you happy or are you just doing it to stay close to him?"

My instinct is to snap back or laugh off her concern, but my finger hovered over the apply button earlier while I was on the website. That impulsive instinct that sometimes gets me in trouble, floating to the surface.

"Blake thinks I should consider graphic novels or illustration work, rather than graphic design."

"You showed him your drawings?"

Izzy and I talk all the time, but Blake is often in the car or in the room, so I haven't told her as much as I might have otherwise. Normally, I tell her everything, but some of the things that have happened with Blake have felt more personal than normal, as though they've meant more for some reason. Maybe I've just spent too much time with Blake, and I've forgotten how to leave the communication valve open.

"Oh yeah, he's seen them." I can't help the little laugh that escapes me. "He thinks I'm talented." And maybe a sex addict.

"You are," Izzy says, taking a long sip of her coffee. "But you've always been adamant that drawing is your emotional outlet, not a job. It could never be a job. Graphic design is at least a sideways step from that, you know? Creative but not so personal. Illustrating feels like you'd be drilling the well you said you didn't want to tap."

Izzy's point is a good one, and I heap another spoonful of sugar into my cooling coffee to combat my surge of confusion. None of the paths seem like exactly the right one. I love drawing the panels that depict this trip and whenever I can steal time to do it, I'm completely absorbed by it. Would I feel the same if someone was paying me to draw something I didn't feel an emotional connection to? Would my drawings still be as good?

Then there's my erotica—could I make money off those sketches? A little online shop where people send me their photos, and I draw them in different poses from the Kama Sutra? I could do that for sure, and it wouldn't demand any emotional commitment. How long could I draw other people in sexual pretzels before I got bored, though?

"I thought being this far into the trip, that my future would feel clearer," I admit. "I pictured myself on top of a mountain somewhere, and what I should do would hit me like a zap to the brain or the heart or something. This is what you're supposed to do, Gwen." I sigh. "No zaps. Just mass confusion about it all."

"You say that," Izzy comes to my side and pours herself another cup of coffee, "but you seem more..." She peers at me, considering. "Settled? Sure of yourself? You might feel confused, but I've never seen you so at peace with yourself. You seem happy. Soul deep happy."

That's on point. My brief breakup with Blake is the only time I've been truly miserable in months. Every day has been a good day on this trip, and part of that is likely because Blake has such an even, steady approach to everything. No matter what happens, Blake makes me feel like it'll all be okay, and not the artificial okay I've tried to talk myself into before.

"You're not getting exactly what you expected out of this trip," Izzy says, "but maybe you're finding what you needed."

"Do you like him?"

"Blake?" she asks, and she seems surprised by my question.

"Who else?"

"Fair." She grins. "He's nothing like the guy I would have imagined you joining up with for a trip like this. The two of you could not be more different. He's great, though."

Part of me regrets asking because I wanted an emphatic yes, and that's not what she's given me. And I should have known better. Blake grows on people, and three days isn't enough for him to loosen up to his full potential. If she really knew him like I do, she'd love him.

"Don't apply to his company without speaking to him. He seems to go along well with your brand of spontaneity, but I can't see him appreciating that surprise."

"Right. Yeah. I would never," I say. "If I get a scholarship, the graphic design program makes the most sense. Doctors International wasn't a real idea."

Izzy just looks at me,shakes her head, and laughs before taking her cup of coffee and wandering backup the stairs.  

Sorry about the bonus chapter glitches! I really love next week's bonus chapter, so I am hoping it drops without an issue.

Next free update: Friday

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