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Chapter Thirty-Three

ROWAN

“ W hy isn’t Trevor doing this himself?” Ruth asks as she steps over a rock jutting out into the path.

“He’s got some cooking class.” I reach out a hand to steady her.

“So now it’s our problem?”

My chest swells at the way she says our . “Nobody’s making you be here,” I tease.

“Aren’t they?” She smirks. “I seem to remember some grumpy football player showing up outside my apartment and bundling me into his truck.”

“I didn’t bundle anybody.”

“Not this time.”

“Not any time!” I throw my hands up, hitting my knuckles against a branch. I hiss as I realize it’s taken off the top layer of skin, the back of my hand turning an angry red.

Dammit. As soon as Trevor came into my room this morning looking sheepish, I knew I was in trouble. Now I’ve got an open wound, and we’re still no closer to finding the phone he claims he dropped somewhere on this trail.

“Oh shit, are you okay?” Ruth stops, taking my hand and pulling it closer for inspection. Something in my stomach tightens as she blows over the scratches, her warm breath ghosting over my fingers. Her eyelashes flutter over her cheeks as she stares intently at whatever damage she’s seeing.

I barely feel a thing. Instead, all I can feel is a desire to trace the line of her nose with my fingertips, to run my thumbs over her cheeks until I can tip her face up to meet mine. I practically ache with the strength of it, the yearning that’s so foreign to me but still feels right. It’s like all this time, I’ve just been waiting for her.

“Better.” My voice comes out husky. Her gaze darts up to meet mine, and I can see that heat reflected back at me.

For a second, I debate snaking an arm around her waist and pulling her flush against me, but I hear the distant murmur of other hikers somewhere further up the trail. Instead, I grab her fingers with mine and press a quick kiss to her knuckles before releasing her to continue on our walk.

“How does somebody even lose their phone on a hike?”

“He says he dropped it taking pictures.”

“What, like off a cliff?” she asks incredulously.

“Nah, I don’t think even he’s stupid enough to send us out after that.”

We hit a log on the path and I move behind Ruth, enjoying her squeak of surprise as I grasp her hips and lift her over in a single movement. I try not to think too hard about the feel of her under my hands. This really isn’t the place for my libido to suddenly come out of hibernation.

The feeling’s unfamiliar, I’ve never been that caveman guy who wanted to throw a girl over his shoulder before, but something about Ruth makes me a little feral. It’s like by finally getting my head out of my ass and admitting I’m crazy about her, I’ve burst through a dam, and I can’t make it stop.

As the path opens out we’re able to walk side by side. Our hands swing next to one another, occasionally brushing and knocking together. I go to intertwine them, desperate to feel her soft palm against my fingers, but she spots something just ahead and jogs forward, ponytail swinging behind her.

I watch her examine a leaf caught on a cobweb, her eyes narrowed in intense fascination. She’s been quiet today, her thoughts elsewhere. I know things with school have been tough, but recently, whenever I ask, she shuts it down fast. It makes me think there’s something more going on.

I decide to press a little. “Has that class gotten any better?” I ask.

It’s exactly the wrong thing to say. I must have prodded at a tender spot because she picks up a rock and hurls it through the trees. “Hey, hey, woah.” I grab her shoulders, spinning her into my chest, where she lands her forehead under my chin. We’ve somehow gone from zero to a hundred, but it doesn’t really seem like the time for questions, so I just go with it.

Grumbles spill out of her as she burrows her nose into my neck. I shouldn’t find it cute, she’s obviously going through something, but damn. I wrap my arms around her, giving her the kind of tight squeeze I like when my brain gets all over the place. “What’s going on, Frog?” I ask.

“I’m a toad,” she growls into my shoulder. I smile as I kiss the top of her head.

“Is there really a difference?”

“Shut up.” Even as she feigns irritation, her arms return the hug. We sway back and forth while she takes some deep breaths, the tension bracketing her shoulders slowly easing.

“You gonna tell me what that was about?” I mumble into her hair.

“Ugh,” she whines. “I hate that class. I can never pay attention and my professor hates me.”

“I’m sure they don’t.”

“Oh, he does. He keeps threatening to fail me.”

I push back, looking down into her face. “Why?”

“I keep forgetting to do my assignments,” she sighs, “and I might have missed a quiz.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.” She gives me a half smile, a little sheepish, a lot guilty. I want to hold her against me until all that shame and worry melts away. I’d let it melt right into me, just so long as she doesn’t have to carry it anymore. “I had to borrow Marshall’s notes yesterday.”

I bristle at the mention of the guy who burst into the house looking for a fight. “I’m sure he didn’t mind.” I try not to sound sour, but even I can hear it.

“What do you mean?” Ruth asks. She’s not being coy, she seems genuinely confused.

“It’s nothing.” I don’t want to get into it. She’s having a shitty day already. It’s just that every time she talks about him, there are about a hundred red flags she seems completely unaware of.

“Tell me.” She gives me a little shake.

“It’s just,” I sigh, “you know he’s in love with you, right?” I know I’m skirting close to old ground. The last time I brought this up, she ghosted me for a fortnight. But things are different now, and I feel like she needs to hear it.

Ruth’s face twists into a confused frown, a deep crease forming between her eyebrows. “No, he’s not,” she splutters.

“He absolutely is.”

She twists out of my hold, moving further down the path. My feet stumble in her wake in my hurry to keep up. She’s moving so fast I’m worried she’s going to trip and fall down the slope that runs next to the trail. “Come on, slow down.” I manage to catch up and grab her hand in a gentle hold. “Hey, talk to me. What is this?”

“I just-I don’t-” Her hands pull out of mine and wave around her ears.

“Sssh, shh,” I try to soothe her, knowing it’s probably not helpful. What the fuck do I do? I’m not good at comforting people. I know I’m floundering but fuck, I’m probably panicking as much as Ruth just seeing her like this. “Take some breaths for me, yeah?”

She does as I ask, fisting her hands into my shirt as she tries to calm down.

“You’re okay. You’re fine. Everything’s okay,” I chant, hoping it helps even a little bit.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbles, “I just have a lot of feelings.”

“Is it about him? Do you… Um…” I trail off, not sure how to ask what I’m trying to. Maybe I should leave it, now doesn’t seem like the best time to talk about it, but I just want to understand.

“Do I what?” She frowns up at me. “Do I like him?”

“Yeah.”

“No.” She sets her jaw like she’s waiting for me to disagree.

“I know you guys have history. I’d understand if there’s still something there.” It tears me up to say it, but I need to know.

“There’s nothing.”

Her grip on my shirt tightens, her eyes looking up at me pleadingly. I kiss her forehead, wanting her to know that I trust her, I believe her, I’m not mad and that we’re okay. “Okay.”

“I don’t know. He’s messing with my head. He’s been so different lately, and I don’t know why.” She looks bewildered, and I want to tuck her into my chest and keep her safe, but we need to talk this out. “The way he was that night, the way he’s been sometimes lately, it’s what I would have wanted once, but now...” She shrugs, losing her train of thought.

“Do you think it’s because you’ve been moving on?” I ask.

“Like how?”

“Like, he’s always been able to count on your feelings. Now you’re getting over him, he needs to get that control back.” Maybe I’m being too blunt, she might not be ready to hear all this, but I feel like I can’t leave this forest without saying my piece.

“I don’t understand.” She shakes her head, so uncertain, and I hate that I’ve put that look on her face.

“It’s okay,” I try to reassure her. “He’s probably just panicking. Things are changing between you guys and he doesn’t know how to act. I’m sure you’ll figure things out soon.” I don’t believe any of it, but it seems like what she needs to hear.

“Yeah?” She looks a little lost.

“Definitely.” I sling an arm around her shoulders and start to propel her along the trail. “Come on, that asshole’s phone isn’t gonna find itself.”

“I’m sorry about all that,” she says quietly, trying to laugh it off.

“You’re good.”

“I just got a bit overwhelmed. I really missed having him as a friend, so it’s nice to have that back, even if he’s being a little intense.”

“I know, I got you.”

The trail narrows after a couple hundred meters, and I have to drop my arm from around her so we can walk single file. I put her in front of me so I can keep an eye on her, worried she’s going to start panicking again if she’s left to her own devices.

I’m pulled out of my thoughts by the sound of my phone ringing. When I see the caller ID on the screen, I nearly hurl the fuckin’ thing off the ledge.

Stabbing the green icon with my finger, I answer, but I can’t get a word out before Trevor starts talking. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry!”

“I’m gonna fuckin’ kill you.”