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His thumb slides back and forth across my hand. Something that he’s done numerous times when I’m in need of comfort but maybe it’s a gesture that’s just as helpful for him.

“No. After I cut him out, he tried regularly to get in contact with me. His attempts lessened over the years but never stopped. Every year or two I would have Talan get me a new number but that was a pain in the ass. Now, I just accept that I’ll hear from him from time to time.” My lips twist to the side and I nod my head. “What else?”

My eyes snap to him and I playfully nudge him with my shoulder. “Why do you assume there’s something else?” I ask.

“I told you. You can’t hide your tell.” His finger taps my nose. My eyes roll back extra dramatically and his thumb rubs against me again as he grins. “That day on the pier. I knew how I felt about you. I wanted to tell you then. But I got that text,” he pauses and I vividly remember how his face had drained of color and there was a very clear shift in him. “It was from him. He congratulated me on making name partner.” I nod my head in understanding. “But I wasn’t thinking about work. When I looked at you, I got scared.”

We stop walking and I turn to face him, wrapping my arms tightly around him. “What were you afraid of?”

“All the reasons I never wanted to be in a relationship had just come through on my phone. I was reminded of how easily everything could go to shit and I just shut down.”

“What changed your mind?”

“You.” His hands run along the back of my head, patting my hair down. “You made it impossible to stay away and I knewtheirrelationship would never be ours.”

My throat is tight with emotion. His piercing gaze makes it difficult to breathe and I know that if I could form words without fear of crying, I would tell him I’m in love with him.

A few too manyfalls and animal encounters later, have us running back to the car. Without a trail to follow we have to be extra careful about heading straight back in the direction we came from, which is proving to be more difficult now that it’s started raining. We finally make it out of the clearing and we’re about 100 meters down the road from our car. I can’t help the laugh that rips through me when Miles grabs my hand and starts jogging towards the jeep with his ass covered in dirt. I stop mid-run and bend over laughing uncontrollably.

“What are you doing?” he shouts through the rain.

“You’re covered in mud.” I choke on my fit of laughter.

“Yeah, hence why I’m trying to get us back to the car.”

I’m wheezing and panting, out of breath from the run, and laughing so hard. Miles closes the distance between us, and his hands grab either side of my face. I stop laughing long enough for him to pull me into a deep, stomach-fluttering kiss. A kiss I can feel down to my freezing bones. His teeth rake across my bottom lip demanding entrance and I happily give it to him. One hand tangles in the back of my wet hair as he holds my head close to him. His other hand slides down my neck, over my shoulders, and grabs onto my hip.

A sigh escapes me when he pulls away, but warmth spreads across my face when he kisses the rain droplets off my nose and forehead. “Estas loca.” His warm breath whispers against my cold skin before pulling me tightly against his body and walking us back to the Jeep. It dawns on me that just like our relationship, this hike started off as a half-assed plan. But also like our relationship, I’m left laughing, genuinely happy, and feeling free.

When we make it back to the car, he opens my door. “As much as I would love to stand out in the freezing rain and have a good laugh at my muddy ass—” His lips find mine again and I close my eyes, soaking in their warmth. “I would rather not die of hypothermia.”

I look at him with the biggest smile I can muster and make a mental note to look up the dangers of a smile etching itself into your face permanently.

Camila

Candle lights flicker all around,casting shadows on the walls against the room.

Although there is a small dining room, we’ve ordered takeout and when I suggested we eat outside on the deck, you would have thought I suggested we wear wet socks with the way Miles looked at me. Apparently, it’s too cold outside, so we compromised by putting all the couch pillows and blankets on the floor near the sliding glass doors and we’recampingindoors.

He sits across from me on the floor, leaning against the couch behind him. He looks so different on this trip. At home, he exudes power and dominance; always in his suits or half-naked when he’s done boxing. But here, he’s relaxed. His outfits are casual—jeans and sweaters. I’m not an idiot, I’ve felt his clothes. His T-shirts feel like they’re made of some kind of witchcraft. It wouldn’t surprise me if his sweater cost my share of mine and Taylor’s monthly rent, but the illusion of casual is still there. And it looks so good on him. My heart still beats erratically every time he looks at me. “Hand me that pen behind you, please.” I twist, looking behind me. There’s a notepad and pen sitting on the side table, I grab it and slide it across the coffee table to him. “Thank you.”

I suspiciously watch him pull out an envelope from his pocket. He opens it, sits a piece of paper on the table, and covers it with his hand when he begins writing.

“Want me to whoop your ass at Snowman?” I tease him.

“No.” He doesn’t look up from the paper. “But I am curious now, what word would you use towhoop my ass?” He leans across the table now, his expression daring.

He thinks getting close to me will throw me off my guard, and he might be right, but I pop up on my knees, lean into him, and kiss his full lips before whispering against his mouth, “Chiaroscurist.”

He smiles against my lips before pulling back. “Okay. You might have whooped my ass with that one.”

I sit back down laughing, pulling my legs under me as he slides the paper across the table. His perfect penmanship flows across the top, “Camila’s Gallery Name Ideas.” with a big line under it.

My eyes burn. “What is this?” I ask.

“You can’t keep calling itThe Studio.If you want to get a sign made for the front, and business cards you need to come up with a name, so I’ve been brainstorming anytime an idea strikes me but I’ve learned I suck at it so let’s do it now, together.”

My chest tightens as I read the list.