Wildfire (Maple Hills, #2)(50)

I’d made my choice and I was sticking to it, which worked until he strolled back into camp and stopped in front of me. It’s hard to be mad at someone when they look like total shit. It’s hard to know that, if he’d walked in smiling and looking his usual, beautiful self, I would’ve had the same reaction.

I was heading to grab some stuff for my hike when I overshared all my feelings with the man I constantly force my bullshit onto. I don’t know what it is, the softness of his face or the way his eyes make me melt when he’s giving me his full attention, or those freaking dimples, that makes me want to word vomit my insecurities all over him.

He must be totally exhausted being stuck around me.

Not exhausted enough to make me carry my backpack though.

Now freshly showered, Russ is matching each of my steps up the steepening trail path and making it look easy. “I can carry my own backpack,” I repeat for the millionth time through strained breath. I really need to start exercising more. “I feel like you’re one of those little donkeys in Greece.”

“I like helping,” he says, not even a hint of panting, “and I’m used to carrying shit around. Not used to being called a donkey though, thanks for that one.”

“How are you not even breaking a sweat? You can carry me if you want, my legs hurt.”

I don’t even have time to say I’m kidding before my ass is in the air and my nose gets buried in my backpack. Russ’s hand grips the back of my thigh, keeping me in place over his shoulder as he continues, not even breaking his stride.

This was not what I was asking for.

“Aurora, every time you wriggle, you rub your ass against my face,” he says casually.

Give me strength. “I didn’t really mean carry me. I was being dramatic for sympathy!”

His fingers dig into my thigh and a part of me that has been severely neglected starts to throb. How thick my thigh is versus how much of his hand can cover it is not something I should be obsessing over right now.

“This is my version of being sympathetic,” he teases. “We’re nearly at the top anyway. Definitely feel like a donkey now though.”

“I take it back. You’re Shrek and I’m Princess Fiona.”

He laughs and I jiggle as his shoulders shake. “Well, green is my favorite color.”

“What type of green? Ogre green?”

“Whatever shade your eyes are.” He starts to lower me to the ground again, but my legs are jelly. “Holy shit, this is nice.”

I’m too busy reeling from what he said about my eyes to realize we’ve reached my favorite spot. I’m not sure what the official name for the type of water source this is, but the water is crystal clear and warm and we’re far enough from anyone else to ever be disturbed. The rocks lining the edge were my favorite when I came here as a kid, but now I appreciate how quiet it is. Russ helps me spread the picnic blanket out on the grass next to the water and I unpack our water bottles and energy bars.

“This is the first time we’ve been totally alone since we got here. Not one person to disturb us,” I say, kicking off my sneakers. He watches me, eyes dancing across my skin as I start to pull down my shorts.

He copies me, undressing slowly, watching me pull my t-shirt over my head as he does the same. I’m giddy with anticipation, my heart rate speeds up and I can’t keep the smile from my face.

He throws his socks onto the growing pile of our clothes. “So, we’re doing this?”

I nod, counting down from three. The nervous energy rattles through me and when I say go, my body takes on a mind of its own as I sprint away from Russ toward the rocks.

Sprinting in a bikini is possibly the worst idea I’ve ever had—and I’ve had so many terrible ideas. If I get concussion from being hit in the face by my own breasts, I’ll never recover from the embarrassment.

The rocks are hot under my feet as I climb to the top. It’s not hard or high, but I’m very aware of the man behind me, the one I suspect slowed down to let me win and who definitely has my ass in his face for the second time today.

Our race was for the first person into the water, but now I’m up here it feels higher than it did when I was younger. Russ doesn’t give me the chance to spiral as he reaches the top, as scoops me up into his arms and throws us both into the water.

The cool water is relief against the hot sun, but it does nothing to make Russ look less hot. He pushes back his wet hair, his biceps peaking above the water, and floats backwards soaking up the sun. He looks brighter than he did earlier somehow; I’m glad I brought him here. This is the most peaceful place I know and I feel like he needs it.

Maybe I should have sent him alone with directions because the silence is making me itch, but I’m doing my best to not fill it like I normally do.

“How did you discover this place?” Russ asks, eyes closed, still floating on his back and, my God, the relief to be able to talk again.

I float closer to him, like somehow if I’m too loud it’ll ruin things. “One year we had a counselor who wasn’t really into team sports, so he would organize walks all over the land that Orla and her family own. This was my favorite one.”

“It’s beautiful.”

“It is.”

“Chance of sharks?”

“Slim.”

His eyes open and he smiles right at me, making my heart thud like the drama queen she is. “What a relief.”