Page 10

Xander

R ain is a mystery. She gives, then pulls back. Usually, that kind of behavior would turn me off, but with her, it only makes me want to know her more. She’s funny and bright, but there’s something behind those striking gray eyes that I’m determined to figure out.

“Where are we?” I ask as I hop out of the van and jog around to open her door.

She’s already waiting for me, which I’m thankful for. I’m a gentleman. I believe in small acts of kindness. It’s how I was raised. But with her, I want to be even more.

“Pisgah National Forest,” she says, taking my hand and hopping down. “My favorite trail is here. And if we have time, there’s a beautiful spot where we can camp and make dinner.” A hint of a blush rises in her cheeks.

Is she nervous?

“I love that idea,” I say, following her to the back of the van.

She pulls a couple of water bottles from her mini fridge, along with a few pouches of nuts and dried fruit, and puts everything into a backpack.

“Here, let me help you,” I say, reaching for the bag, but she hugs it to her chest. “Nuh-uh. You can’t put weight on your shoulder,” she says with a smile.

I nod, a little sheepish. I’m so entranced by her, I forgot what Dr. Gutierrez told me. “Thank you for looking out for me,” I say.

“Okay, before we go, I need to apply sunscreen. Otherwise, my skin will burn after five seconds in the sun,” she says, grabbing a bottle from her backpack.

I shamelessly ogle her as she smooths the lotion over her legs. They’re long and toned, and her creamy skin needs all the sun protection it can get. The thought of having those legs wrapped around my neck as I taste her makes me shiver.

“Are you okay?” she asks.

I adjust my hat, feeling like an ass for thinking about her like that when she’s been nothing but nice—and clear that she doesn’t want to hook up.

“Yup, I’m all good.”

She passes me the sunscreen, and I quickly rub it over my arms and legs.

When I hand it back, she says, “Here, let me help you,” and gently pushes down on my shoulders.

I bend my knees enough so she can reach the back of my neck. Then she rubs a bit onto my ears, her soft touch sending butterflies loose in my stomach.

What the actual fuck is happening?

She’s only being nice.

“Thank you,” I say, clearing my throat.

We need to start walking before my thoughts drift back to places they shouldn’t.

Once she has the backpack on, we head away from the parking lot.

“I’ve been coming to this place since I was little. Summer has always been my favorite season—exploring nature, bonfires, grilled food, cooling down in a lake or the creek back home. Fireworks,” she says, and I immediately smile.

“Summer is my favorite season too. Growing up in Massachusetts, summers were short, so we had to enjoy every single moment to the max.”

I spot a sign for the summit trail. It says it’s three and a half miles long and marked as a moderate hike. We can easily do it if we keep a pace that allows us to keep chatting.

I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of talking to her.

“Anything in particular you enjoyed about summer growing up?” she asks, keeping up without breaking a sweat.

“Mom and I used to pick strawberries in June and blueberries in July. We could spend an entire afternoon in the field picking berries. I think I ate at least a pound before we were ready to pay,” I say with a chuckle, the memory of Mom and me riding a wagon to the strawberry fields playing in my mind.

“The farmers knew we kids would eat our weight in berries and never said a word. It was the best.”

“Sounds like a lot of fun. How about going to the beach? I don’t think I’ve ever been,” Rain says, and I’m surprised, though I don’t point it out.

I guess my face gives me away, because she smiles and keeps talking.

“Yeah, my daddy used to take care of the farm, and unless you have a lot of help, it’s an everyday job.

I don’t think he ever took time off. But Mama was a teacher, so she had summers free.

We used to do picnics by the creek or camp out in the orchard to see the stars.

Granny would take us on walks to collect herbs and wildflowers for her potions and sachets. ”

When I look at her, there’s a dreamy softness in her eyes, like she’s lost in a memory.

I wonder if one day she’ll think about this moment—with me—the same way she thinks about her happy childhood.

“Fourth of July is coming up, and it’s a town-wide event. It’s the biggest celebration besides the Apple Festival and the tree lighting in December. Maybe you’ll still be around to celebrate,” she says with a smile.

The moment she looks at me, I feel it deep in my heart.

This woman is going to change my world.

The view from the summit is breathtaking.

I don’t think I’ve felt this connected to nature and my surroundings in a long time.

The different blue hues of the mountains clash spectacularly with the lush greens of the trees.

A few clouds drift across the bright, pale sky, and it’s not too hot or humid yet. It’s the perfect summer day.

“Hotshot, over here,” Rain calls from another part of the summit.

There are a few hikers around, but overall, we have the mountain to ourselves.

I jog over to where Rain is standing, taking a selfie with the Blue Ridge Mountains in the background.

She tilts her head, signaling for me to get into the picture.

I stand behind her, pressing my chest to her back and resting my left hand on her shoulder.

We’re both grinning, our faces slick with sweat.

A buzz of electricity courses through me, and I know Rain feels it too. Goosebumps trail down her neck, disappearing into the neckline of her tank top.

“Wait, let me flip my hat,” I say, turning it backward.

Rain rolls her eyes at me on the screen. “You’re such a diva,” she quips.

I chuckle. “I just know I look better when you can see my eyes.”

She turns to face me, our lips just inches apart. “Oh yeah? And what can I see in your eyes?” she asks.

I can feel her breath on my face, a mix of nuts and mango from the snack we had earlier. She would be my preferred snack right now, but I need to tuck that thought away and answer her question.

“How much I’m enjoying spending time with you,” I say.

Her breath hitches.

I lean down to kiss her, but two kids sprint past us, laughing.

“Tyler, Josh, stop right now! It’s not safe running around here,” a woman shouts.

Rain and I chuckle, the moment ruined.

“Ready to head back? We could drive to a campsite by a waterfall,” Rain says as she starts to put her phone away.

I place my hand gently on hers. “Could you please send me the picture?”

A smirk transforms her gorgeous face into something that can only be described as mischief.

“What? So you can file it along with the other pictures you took while we were hiking?”

Heat rises up my neck, and a guilty smile spreads across my lips. I didn’t think she noticed.

“No, wiseass. So I don’t have to keep sneaking pictures of you.”

Her laugh is carefree as we start our descent to our parking spot.

The way down is faster since we don’t stop as much.

Now we’re setting up foldable chairs and a table outside Rain’s van. She brought food from the diner to make us dinner.

The spot she chose is stunning. We’re twenty feet away from a waterfall, surrounded by tall trees that keep us shaded. It feels like our own natural piece of paradise.

“I feel like your answer to the next question is going to make or break us,” Rain says, firing up a small portable grill.

“Uh-oh. I better get it right then,” I say, rubbing my hands together and bouncing on my toes like I’m warming up.

She laughs before asking, “How do you like your steak?”

I press my lips together, pretending to think hard.

Finally, I let out a deep breath and say, “Damn. I don’t know. Is there any other way than medium rare?” I flash her a crooked smile.

Her eyes light up .

“Attaboy,” she says, placing two steaks on the grill. The sizzling sound of the meat touching the hot griddle makes my stomach rumble.

“Don’t worry. I’ll feed you soon.”

I look at her with wide eyes, and she blows a piece of hair off her face.

“Don’t get too excited. I’m not offering that kind of feeding.”

I shoot her a cocky grin, and she swats the grill tongs at me.

“Cut it out. There’s no way anything is happening between us,” she says, flipping the steaks and looking around for something.

“Why don’t you cut the cornbread and bring the salad to the table?”

I start for the van, calling over my shoulder, “Don’t think this conversation is over. I don’t give up that easily.”

I hear her laugh as I step inside the van and grab what she asked for.

Rain plates the steaks, and after she passes me one, I add a mountain of salad to my plate.

“This smells great. Thank you, Cherry,” I say absentmindedly.

Her hand, holding a spoonful of salad, freezes midair.

“What?” I ask with a chuckle, waiting for her to serve her food.

“What did you call me?” she asks, her tone curious .

“Cherry.”

She raises an eyebrow.

“Your hair is cherry red under the sun. You’re sweet but have a tough exterior—you’re like a cherry.”

She shakes her head as she scoops a mouthful of salad.

“No? I think you’re a cherry. A wild one at that.”

She laughs and nearly chokes on her food, rushing to take a sip of her water.

“Now you’re talking, Hotshot,” she singsongs.

I grin. “I like this,” I say, gesturing between us with my fork.

She looks at me, smiling, but doesn’t say a word.

“I like bantering with you,” I add.

She huffs. “Yeah, you’re not too bad to spend time with yourself,” she says in a disinterested tone, adding a shrug for good measure.

“Nah, you like being with me and you know it. When was the last time you had this much fun with someone who wasn’t related to you?”

She lowers her gaze, and I know I got her.

She chews slowly without looking at me, and after a couple of beats, I start panicking.

Was I too harsh?

She hasn’t mentioned any friends—only family.