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.”
“You look better already,” I say cautiously. I want him to tell me why he had to suddenly leave, but I’m trying to not bulldoze into his life and make him uncomfortable after he told me he didn’t want to talk about it.
God, it’s exhausting trying to think about what you do before you do it.
“I feel better. Thank you for bringing me here.”
“If you . . . Do you, uhm.” Great start, Rory. “If you change your mind and do want to talk about anything to do with where you’ve been, that would be okay with me. We could try and find that middle ground.”
“I don’t want to burden you with my baggage.”
“I don’t mind. It isn’t a burden. You just carried my actual baggage and me up a hill. I can take whatever you throw at me, Callaghan.”
“It is. You have enough of your own, you don’t need other people’s.”
I hate me and my big mouth. I said that weeks ago, right when we first started working here, when someone asked me why I don’t have a boyfriend. I didn’t know how to say, “little to no trust in men, especially when I’m a trainwreck,” in a nice way to the people I’d just met, so I said the first thing that came to mind. Unfortunately, that happened to be about not wanting other people’s baggage.