Lily didn’t finish the thought. Never in all her life had she imagined her own death, but if pressed, she’d say what anyone who was at least part optimist probably said: she expected to die when she was old, after a long, happy life. She absolutely did not expect to die in the Green River, chasing her father’s lunatic dream.
Leo shrugged off his pack, checking the zippers and ties, making sure his tent and sleeping bag were secured in their straps. Lily dropped hers to do the same.
He looked around. “It’s greener than I expected, too.”
Most of the vegetation here would never survive the dry conditions in the surrounding desert. The river created its own riparian zone, one where Fremont cottonwoods and Russian olives offered dappled shade, where dense clusters of shrubby plants and spring grasses grew with their feet in the rushing water.
“It’s been a wet year. Might not look like this next spring.”
“Let’s hope we’re still around to see it.” He nodded and blew out a steadying breath. “Okay. We can do this,” he said, squinting as he looked upriver. She could see him come to the same conclusion she had—it would be worse the closer they got to the confluence. “We just need to go slow.”
She picked up a branch and threw it in, gauging the current’s speed. Immediately, it submerged, bobbing a few feet downriver before spinning quickly in a tiny, hungry whirlpool. Lily groaned.
“Still, we should cross here,” he said, “and then set up camp nearby to dry our shoes.” He quickly looked over at her, anticipating her argument. “We can spare a few hours, Lil. We can’t hike in wet boots, and we can’t cross a river like this barefoot.”
He was right, but she hated it. Hated how complicated this was becoming, hated how she’d failed to plan for everything, and hated even more that her desire to push forward outweighed her desire to call it quits. “It makes tomorrow’s hike longer, but I’m not sure what we can do about that.” She gave him a once-over. He looked solid and was barely limping, but still: “You sure you’re up for it? You took a pretty big fall.”
“I’m good.” Leo bent and began rolling up his pants. They were expensive—lightweight nylon-spandex—and she was slapping herself for not bringing something like that along. Then again, when would she ever have imagined a detour like this?
Deftly, he managed to get them to midthigh, and Lily felt her thoughts come to a dusty, coughing stop.
She’d forgotten his legs. Or, more likely, she’d forced herself to not remember them quite so vividly. His thighs were unreal: defined and thick; the most surprising part of a body that was otherwise so lean. Broad shoulders, narrow waist, then thighs that could crush her like a walnut. Jesus, Lily had loved those thighs.
Pulling her brain up from the free fall, she looked down at her jeans. She wouldn’t be able to roll them high enough to stay dry, but crossing this river in only her underwear, with Leo beside her, sounded like number ninety-nine on her list of one hundred things she did not want to do, just above stabbing a fork in her leg.
Still, fuck it.
Without looking at him, she kicked off her shoes, unbuckled her belt, unzipped her jeans, and shoved them down her legs. She tried not to think of her own thighs, and the way they’d looked the last time Leo had seen them. She wasn’t nineteen years old anymore. She worked hard and ate heartily when she could, but unlike Leo, she had never set foot inside a gym. Rolling her jeans into a ball, Lily pushed them deep into her pack along with the wasted energy of worrying about her body. Looking great in her underwear wouldn’t get her across the river any faster. She put her hiking boots back on and then straightened, setting her backpack on her shoulders and buckling in as if she did this every day.
Lily registered that he’d gone suspiciously quiet. “What?” she said sharply.
Leo cleared his throat. “Smart.” He paused again, and when she glanced over at him, he quickly tore his eyes away. “Would it make you feel better if I took mine off, too?”
Her “NO” rocketed out of her, too fast.
Way too fast.
Leo smirked. “Then let’s go.”
Together, they approached the edge and stared down at their entry point. The water was unsettlingly murky and dark.
“Unbuckle your waist and sternum straps,” she reminded him.
If either of them stumbled, the weight of their giant packs could flip them over, pull them under. The bags could snag on an obstacle and trap them. Yes, with it unbuckled, Lily could easily lose everything in there—including her pants—but considering the alternative, she’d take it.