Page 39 of The Ex Project (The Heartwood #3)

HUDSON

Wren asked to go to the swimming hole today, so here we are, driving along the same backroad as we did the other day, but this time we’ve stopped at the trailhead leading in the other direction. The trail we could both walk with our eyes closed.

It’s not a long hike in, but it’s almost straight up, and we’re both out of breath and sweaty by the time we make it through the break in the trees and spot the clear pool of water at the base of the waterfall.

Ruby isn’t fazed by the hike; she loves it, bounding along beside us through the woods the whole way here.

As soon as we reach the clearing with the waterfall, she’s off and running.

I was delighted when Wren suggested it, less delighted when she asked me to haul all her painting supplies with us.

But I wasn’t about to say no. It’s been an escape for her.

She wanted to avoid having to face her boss today and explain how she lost the vote.

That’s not unusual for Wren, to avoid the hard conversations, to shy away from feeling vulnerable.

Anything that has the potential to make her look weak is a threat.

Whatever her reasoning for wanting to spend the day together aside, she wanted to come to the swimming hole, and it makes me feel like not all the memories she has of me are bad ones.

We spent so much time together here in the summers growing up, and I’m glad they haven’t been tainted by our breakup.

It makes me think Wren is almost ready to talk about it.

The breakup. She’s becoming more and more inclined to revisit other parts of our past relationship, including the physical ones.

That’s all I want to talk about. All I want to do is explain my side of the story she was too hurt at the time to hear.

Again, I shied away from the conversation that could have saved her a decade of animosity towards me.

But it would have hurt in the moment, and Wren doesn’t do hurt.

She doesn’t do weak. She didn’t even allow herself to shed a tear when we ended things over the phone.

She curtly told me our friendship would therefore be over, too—in her view, you couldn’t go back to being friends after having a relationship—and then she abruptly hung up before I could explain anything.

Before I could tell her that breaking up was for her own good.

Wren squeals with delight, yanking me back from my own thoughts as she runs over the rocks and crouches to feel the water.

“It’s ice cold, like I remember it.” And in an instant, she’s up, peeling off her T-shirt to reveal a black stringy bikini top.

My cock stiffens in response to the sight of her here.

I thought about this place, with her, often.

It was the first place we saw each other naked.

The day we came after Wren had been in a huge fight with her dad about where she was applying to university.

She had worked all week putting together a presentation of reasons why she wanted to go to art school.

It included several art schools she could apply to, why she was so passionate about it, how she could support herself while she did it.

Even after all that, Ian Miller was adamant Wren should be applying for a real career.

And he was paying, so what he said went.

She was so upset. Wanted to get away and escape, so I brought her here before either of us had time to grab a bathing suit. Turns out, we didn’t need them. And that was the day our childhood friendship and secret crushes turned into something more.

By the time I’ve found a spot of grass next to the jagged rocks to set down our towels and Wren’s bag of art supplies, she’s in the water up to her neck.

She’s watching my every move as I take off my own T-shirt and shoes and wade in towards her.

I take my time because the water is frigid against my warm skin.

Goosebumps spread all the way up from my legs as I walk in up to my thighs.

“Get in the water, Landry! Are you too chicken?” Wren goads, and I shoot her a withering glare.

“I’m not chicken . It’s not as easy for guys to get into cold water, okay?” I say, gesturing with both hands at my crotch. “There’s some … shrinkage that happens.”

“Oooh … sexy.” Wren laughs, getting closer to me but not rising out of the water .

“It would help motivate me if you took your swimsuit off,” I suggest, a cheeky grin forming on my lips.

“Hmm …” Wren makes an exaggerated thinking expression. “Maybe this will motivate you!”

Her hands come out of the water, but before she can splash me, Ruby is next to me, shaking the water off her as she climbs out of the pool.

I flinch at the freezing cold water, and it’s enough to make me lose my footing on the slippery rocks and fall forward.

When I come up for air, Wren is howling, her laugh echoing off the cliffs around us.

The sound of it is melodious, and even though I’m recovering from the shock, I would do it all over again if it meant I could hear her laugh.

Despite the cold, warmth blooms in my chest and a smile takes over my face. It takes over my whole body.

“That’s one way to do it.” She laughs.

“Yeah, but I splashed you, didn’t I?” I say, noting the droplets covering her face. “You’ve got a little something …” I wave my finger in a circular motion towards her. She makes a questioning expression.

“Where?”

“All over,” I say, and she swims over to me so she’s within arm’s reach of me.

“Can you show me?” Her tone is joking, verging on suggestive, so I reach out for her, hooking my hand on the small of her waist. I tug her towards me, our smooth, wet skin making delicious contact.

“Here,” I murmur now, dipping my head so I kiss her cheeks, her nose, her forehead.

Anywhere with water droplets. Wren closes her eyes as I trail my mouth across her face, a low hum reverberating from her chest. When I’ve got all the drops off her face, I pull away from her, keeping a hand around the base of her neck.

It feels like a lifetime passes between us, as I stare into Wren’s eyes, and she stares back into mine.

I lean my forehead on hers and close my eyes, soaking her in. Soaking this in. I never want this moment to end. For the first time in ten years, there’s a very real chance I could have Wren back. And if that happens, I won’t let anything come between us again.

When I reopen my eyes, I see that Wren has closed hers, too. I hope the contact of our foreheads together means we’re sharing the same thoughts. Wren’s eyelids flick open, and we pull apart. There’s a light behind her chocolate brown eyes, making them burn almost amber in the sunlight.

“Race you up the cliffs?” she challenges me, and I think competing is Wren’s love language.

“What are the stakes?”

“Hmm.” Wren thinks for a moment. “If I win, I give you a blow job.”

“That’s a little backwards, don’t you think?”

Wren taps her temple with one finger.

“I’m playing the long game, Landry. Winning this will also earn me points in the orgasm competition.”

“Okay, fine. I’d be stupid to say no,” I concede. “Then oral sex it is, both ways.”

“If we tie, do we sixty-nine?”

“Seems fair to me.”

As we’ve been talking, Wren has been slowly inching towards the edge of the pool, readying herself to jump out and start the race.

But I’ve thought ahead. I’m a strong swimmer, and if I can get a few powerful strokes in and get to the opposite edge of the pool, I’ll pop up right at the base of the cliff.

With any luck, Wren will still be scrambling over jagged rocks that will slow her down.

We eye each other up for a beat before we both spring to action—Wren hauling herself out of the water and me swimming in the opposite direction. My move has thrown her off. It wasn’t what she was expecting, so it takes her a moment to recalibrate.

I’m already a few strides ahead of her as I haul myself out of the pool and have started climbing the cliff well before she reaches it.

My arms and legs have a significantly more amount of power than hers, so it takes me half the time to reach the top, the highest safe ledge to jump from.

Wren looks up to where I’m standing above her, a defeated look washing over her face.

I could jump now. Jumping now would guarantee my win.

But Wren has had so many losses lately, and I can’t do that to her.

I can’t beat her at her own game this time.

She won’t want me to let her win, either, so in the thirty seconds it takes her to reach me, I come up with a different plan. One she won’t be expecting.

“You aren’t going to let me win, are you?” she says, placing her hands on her hips and stopping to catch her breath. Just as predicted. “You should know better. I’d sooner push you in ahead of me than win by default.”

“No, Miller.” I pick up both her hands in mine. “We’re going in together.”

“You really want to sixty-nine, don’t you? You could have said so. ”

“That’s not it,” I say, although that sounds incredible, and now that I’m out of the freezing water, my dick rises to attention at the thought.

“I’m tired of the competitions. I mean, I love how we’re playful together, how we tease each other, and egg each other on.

But yesterday made me realize it can go too far.

I want to play the game on the same team, Wren.

Us against the world, not us against each other. ”

“Us against the world.” She considers my proposal, her brown eyes turning misty. Her throat bobs as she swallows. “I’ve never had a teammate before.”

A claw-like finger pokes at my chest, pain stabbing at my sternum. Because, throughout our whole friendship, our relationship, Wren never felt like I was her teammate. And that hurts.

“You’ve got one now, Miller,” I say, trying to hide the crack in my voice from the lump stuck in my throat. “I’m right here with you.” I let go of one of her hands and turn to the cliff’s edge. “We jump on three?”

Wren nods, her eyes still glassy, but a warm smile graces her face.

“One … two … three …” She counts us down, and we jump, hand in hand, free-falling together into the unknown. For the few seconds we’re suspended in the air, I know with Wren I will always jump in with both feet. No backing out.

We land in the water with a splash, our hands breaking apart at the last second. We’re both laughing when we surface for air. We find each other quickly in the water, Wren wrapping herself around me, planting kisses on my cheeks.

“I love being on the same team as you, Landry.”

“Oh yeah?” She nods and I admire her for a moment, her dark hair slicked back and shiny, thick black eyelashes sticking together now that they’re wet.

She’s so fucking beautiful it makes my heart ache.

How I went so long without seeing her is a mystery to me now.

Now that she’s back in my arms, looking at me like she might be in love with me, she feels necessary to me.

Like my life depends on her.

We spend the rest of the afternoon by the swimming hole, lazing around on the picnic blanket again—me reading my book, Wren painting, Ruby lying next to her.

She had asked me to bring her a canvas, which she’s placed on the forest floor, splashing paint over dried leaves, and then layering details over top.

The pattern from a piece of bark, evergreen trees, the shape of some birds flying.

The result is gorgeous, moving, a piece of art that could only come from a place of contentedness.

And she looks it, too. She’s fully herself, fully at peace, out here creating.

This is how Wren is meant to be, not clawing her way to the top of a corporate ladder.

Not fighting for any scrap of recognition she can get.

She’s meant to be free, living life by her own set of rules. Playing her own game.

When our skin is sufficiently wrinkled, and we’ve run out of water and snacks, Wren packs up her painting supplies and we head back down the hill. I’m careful to carry her canvas without smudging anything, and I lay it on a blanket in the back of my truck when we get to the bottom.

“Up for some ice cream?” I suggest as we climb into the truck. It’s almost dinner time, but ice cream in town was our ritual after a day at the swimming hole.

Wren shakes her head .

“No, I should get home.” Her attention is now on her phone.

She had left it in the truck for the day, but now that we’re back, she’s staring at the screen, chewing on her bottom lip.

Disappointment sags within me. “I’ve spent enough time avoiding my problems, evading calls and texts from Rick.

I need to go home and sort some things out on my own tonight. ”

My mouth forms a tight line as I nod and pull the truck out onto the gravel road.

“I understand.” And I do. Wren needs to solve her own problems. But I can’t help but worry all our progress might come undone the moment she talks to Rick.

The moment she finds out what losing the vote will cost her.

Will I go back to being her enemy? Even after forming an alliance with one another?

I hope not. But Wren’s competitive nature was practically formed at birth. I’m pretty sure she had a onesie that said If you’re not first, you’re last on it.

Wren’s body language next to me on the drive home is tense again, and I can’t help but notice her knee bouncing out of the corner of my eye. She doesn’t say anything until we pull up outside of her house.

“Thanks for today. I needed the distraction,” she says.

“Remember, Miller, whatever happens with your job, it’s us against the world. We’re in this together.” She leans over the console to place her mouth softly on mine. I take her kiss as a parting promise that she’s in this with me, too.