Page 15

Canyon isn’t saying much. But his face is red. Probably from the fire.

We trade ghost stories for a while. When Al tells yet another story about his neighbor burning trash, Canyon leans closer. “Stop, Wade.” His eyes drop to my lips. “I’m trying to resist you.”

“Maybe stop trying?” The words slip out. But I wouldn’t take them back even if I could.

“I’m going to bed now. If you’re willing to put your money where your mouth is…or just put your mouth…wherever, don’t take too long.”

He says goodnight to everyone. I try to focus on what’s going on around me, but I can’t. I’m fucking hard for one thing, and I’m trying to talk myself out of making a huge mistake.

But I can’t. I want this too much. So, after an appropriate amount of time—who am I kidding. I have no idea how long it’s been—I wish everyone a good night.

“No worries, bro,” Ander says. “I’ll make sure the fire gets put out.”

Oh. Right. But I’m not taking his bait. “Thanks, bro.”

I use the small flashlight included with our bags to find my way back to our cabin. Hoping desperately that Canyon isn’t asleep.

He’s not asleep, but he is already in bed.

“Took you long enough,” he says, and then his gaze shifts away. “I wasn’t sure if you were coming.”

I sigh. “Honestly? I wasn’t sure either. I just needed time, I guess.”

“Time?”

“To talk myself out of it.”

“Oh.” His eyes dart to my face and back down. “And did you succeed?”

“Not even a little.” I gesture to the bathroom. “I’m all sweaty and smell like smoke. I’m going to take a quick shower.”

“Okay. But for the record,” he says, inhaling deeply, “I like you all sweaty. It’s giving my body all kinds of ideas.”

I lean down and kiss him. My hands cup his face as I give in to this need. Just one kiss. But it turns into more. A breathy “oooh” escapes his lips and I deepen the kiss, chasing his sexy gasps.

A whiff of my own sweat has me pulling back. He stares at me, his pupils blown. Do I really need a shower? But another whiff has me pulling away from his tempting mouth. I really stink.

I take the quickest shower possible. If he’s asleep by the time I’m done, it’s probably for the best, though I might weep from frustration. But when I return to the room, Canyon’s awake and watching my every move.

I slip under the blanket, and he turns on his side so we’re facing each other. His breathing is fast, like he can’t catch his breath, and his eyes are hot on my face. I touch his cheek. “Hey there.”

He lunges forward, bumping our noses together, and our mouths meet at an awkward angle. He jerks away just as quickly.

“Sorry,” he mumbles as he scoots away from me. I wrap my arm around him and pull him closer.

“Stay right here, okay?”

“I don’t—I’m not?—”

“Shh. I’ve got you.” I brush my thumb over his soft lips.

He doesn’t look at me. “You promise?”

My chest tightens. “I promise.”

He lifts his gaze, and it’s all there. Raw vulnerability. Desire. And stubbornness. “Then prove it.”

Fuck. Even nervous, he’s still such a brat. I replace my thumb with my lips. The kisses are soft and sweet and nowhere near the intensity burning inside me. I don’t want to scare him, but his soft gasps and needy whines ignite a fire that leaves me helpless. “Open for me, sweetheart.”

He opens his mouth obediently. His eyes are trusting. And I tamp down the part of me that wants to dominate him. That needs his utter submission. Canyon is innocent. Vulnerable.

But I also can’t deny him his reward. He’s earned it.

“Good boy,” I whisper against his lips as I cup the back of his head and really kiss him.

Taste him. Gentle, exploring kisses. Sliding my tongue against his, his gasp draws me further in as he melts in my arms. I kiss him again and again.

I hold myself back. I want to ravish him. Own him.

Jared’s words from that first night come back to me. Sharing a room now seems incredibly naive and self-destructive. How can we be in the same room and not give in to what our bodies need?

His eyes are closed and his lips are still parted, waiting for another kiss. I make it count. More insistent than the others. But still gentle. I suck his bottom lip into my mouth, and he moans breathlessly. “Wade, please.”

I sprinkle kisses over his cheeks. His jaw. The edge of his mouth. Slowing everything down. And I hesitate to ask, but I need to know. “Is this safe? Your heart—is that why you’ve never…?”

His body tenses in my arms. Fuck . “I was young. Seven for my first surgery. Nine for my last. And some in between. They repaired the hole. Normally, they take care of those in infancy, but they didn’t think it would get bigger, and then it did.

” He rubs his fist against his chest. “My parents were so supportive. They didn’t let anything stop me.

After checking with the doctors, they let me be as active as I wanted.

I was nothing like River. But I’d camp and fish and hike. I loved being outdoors.”

He gets quiet, and I kiss his shoulder. Reminding him I’m here but not pushing.

“Everything changed after they died. I realized how stupid I’d been. Risking everything.” His eyes find mine. “What if I died and left River all alone.”

“You started being more careful?” I ask, tucking a curl behind his ear.

“If you ask River, too careful.”

When he doesn’t continue, I ask softly, “Can I see your scars?”

After that many surgeries, they’d be hard to avoid. And I remember his earlier panic when I’d grabbed his shirt.

Instead of taking his shirt off, he pulls down the collar, exposing several white lines. “You can touch them.”

I swallow, aware of the gift he’s giving me. Trust. He leans his head back, and I brush a finger over his scars. His heart is pounding so fast. Leaning in slowly so he has time to object, I kiss the biggest one. His skin is hot against my lips, and I force myself to stop there.

I kiss his jaw, my heart full. “Thank you.”

He’s quiet. Did I ruin everything? Canyon has exposed so much of himself tonight. And I know that feeling of being laid bare. Raw. I need to give him something. I want to give him something.

“Ander was seven and I was nine when our parents died. A car accident.” I stop. What if it reminds him of his own trauma.

“I’m so sorry,” he says gently. “So your…aunt took care of you?”

I swallow the painful memories. “No. Our uncle. But less than a year later, he married Meredith. Our uncle was sick, and I think he wanted someone to take care of us. But after he died, our aunt decided we’d been coddled enough.”

“Wade…” His eyes are full of emotion as he touches my cheek.

I kiss his hand, and then, with my heart racing so fast it feels like the start of something dangerous, I cup his cheek.

He presses against my hand and places a kiss in the center of my palm.

I can tell the moment he realizes, and my stomach flips.

His fingers are gentle as he pulls my hand away and stares at the scars.

His eyes widen with shock. “She did this?”

I nod, too emotional to speak.

He traces the scars with his fingers and then softly, sweetly kisses them. When he’s done, he brushes his lips over mine, and this time, it isn’t awkward or painful. “Wade?”

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“I want you so much. I’m done playing it safe.”