travel with us, because it’s what Nina wants. But you do one thing that makes her uncomfortable, you even look at her wrong, and I will open the door while driving ninety and kick your ass to the curb. Are we clear?”
Instead of biting back with what I’m learning is a typical Leigh foul-mouthed comment, she narrows her eyes and tilts her head. After a prolonged pause, she nods decisively and says, “Crystal.” She holds out her hand, and he drops the phone in it.
He straightens up and rakes his hair again. Deep grooves linger where his fingers were, and I can’t help but wonder if it feels as soft as it looks. “Now that I have that to look forward to,” he says, “what do you say we head out, Nina? It’s looking like it’s gonna rain. We should get a move on.”
Leigh offers to clear our plates, and I’m a few steps away when my phone vibrates. A text from her lights my screen.
Man-candy is into you. Don’t know what the girlfriend deal is, and he’s a bit of a douche. But he’s hot for you. Good luck in the tent. Kirk out.
First thing I do after reading the text is laugh. Kirk out. I didn’t peg Leigh for a Trekkie. It makes me like her even more. Second thing I do is almost have a coronary. It’s one thing to think Sam’s into me with some mysterious girlfriend getting in the way. It’s quite another for someone to confirm my suspicions on the day we leave for a “tramp.” The same day we’ll be sleeping in a tent.
The two of us.
Together.
Alone.
That spontaneous combustion thing starts up again as I try to put one foot in front of the other on the way to get my pack. This is going to be a long day.
Eleven
Nina
Sam. Oh, God, Sam. I…I can’t. Oh, my God, I just can’t.”
Panting. Burning. Aching limbs. Lungs sure to collapse.
“Don’t crap out on me now, Canada. Five more steps and you’ve made it.”
I don’t look up. That would mean moving my head. That requires energy. I suck a breath, oxygen raking through my lungs, and I take another step. Then another. After the promised five, I can tell I’m not at the top.
“Five?” I manage to shout. Endless would be a good word to describe this climb.
Or infinite. Or illimitable. Or plain horrible.
“Okay. I lied. Just don’t stop moving. You’re so close. And we’re not setting up camp on a ninety-degree cliff. Keep your eye on the prize. You’re almost there.”
Frickin’ Hot Guy and his stupid hike. He thought his limp would slow us down, but I’m the one huffing and puffing, trying to figure out how I ended up on Mount Everest while in New Zealand. I chance a glance up, using the moment to inhale a mouthful of air. Sam leans over the edge, hands on his knees, grinning down at me. If there was ever a reason to summit a mountain, that face is it.
Sam, who I’m falling for. Sam, with that jaw.
Sam, who I’ll be sleeping with. In a tent. Alone.
Another five agonizing steps later, he’s got me by the shoulders, helping me up. In the blink of an eye, he has my straps undone and is easing the bazillion-pound weight from my back. The air still feels sharp in my lungs, like it could slice through me.
“Keep moving around,” he says. “Come on, let’s walk it off.” He grabs my hand and leads me over the rocky ground, the two of us walking in wide circles.
After a few laps, the air is less daggerlike and my breathing slows. I blink at my surroundings. So focused on my aches and pains, I didn’t stop to soak in the landscape, if that’s what you’d call it. This is probably what the moon looks like. A few hikers passed us on the climb, but we’re alone in this crater, surrounded by jagged outcrops of brownish-black rocks and yellow tufts of grass, low mountains on all sides. It’s majestic and eerie and otherworldly, and I’m here because of Sam.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” he asks. He’s still holding my hand as the silence engulfs us, my heart pounding in my ears.
The air is cold and damp. It alleviates the heat from that insane climb but doesn’t do much to quell the warmth between Sam’s hand and mine. Still, I don’t let go. And he doesn’t let go. I could stand here forever.