Wild Like Us - Krista Ritchie Page 0,65

like the kind of guy that’d never shut up about it.”

Akara smiles. “Small thanks to that.”

On the rock face, Sulli takes another leap and this time, she grabs the second handhold.

“Get some,” I say under my breath, my chest swelling for her.

Akara is grinning.

Time ticks by, and as the sun starts to lower in the early evening, Sulli finishes climbing. Back on the ground, sweat drips off her forehead and she guzzles water from a CamelBak nozzle, the bladder filled with a couple liters of water.

“I think I can do it in a couple days,” she tells us. “One more practice and I’ll nail it.”

Akara high-fives her, then tickles beneath her armpits.

She squeals, “Kits!” and squirts him with water.

A tinge of jealousy rises. Hate that. But I won’t ever have that kind of relationship with her. It’s not how we started. It’s not really what I want with her either. Not that I’ve dated that much. That’s Akara’s wheelhouse. But I’m not Akara Kitsuwon.

I’m Banks fuckin’ Moretti.

I pick up my backpack and swing the strap over my shoulder. When I go to carry Sulli’s, she says, “Oh hey, I got that.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah.” She slings her Patagonia backpack on. “Not too heavy.” She slugs my waist. “I could probably beat you in a footrace with a hundred pounds.”

“Probably.” I slide an arm across her shoulders while she’s next to me.

She intakes an audible breath, then smiles at my arm on her. Sulli even takes my hand that hangs near her bicep and places a kiss on my knuckles.

I can’t take my eyes off her, and as a bodyguard, that is bad. Really fucking bad. And I’m about to lean down and kiss her.

But Akara glances up at the sky. “Hey, we’re going to have to jog back to make it to camp before sundown.” His severity kicks my ass into gear. “I don’t want us to be on the trail in the dark.”

I drop my arm off Sulli and eagle-eye the path.

She nods.

“Banks, you go out front,” Akara orders.

Usually I don’t question a superior. At least not to their face. I’ve learned to shut my mouth, even when I think they’re wrong. But I point out, “I’m slower than you and her. Shouldn’t you two be out front and I’ll take the rear?”

“That’s why you should set the pace.”

I nod, realizing he wants us to stick together. So I just go on ahead. The trail is riddled with fallen logs and tall grass.

Sulli is on my ass in an instant. I glance over my shoulder as I jog.

“This is nice,” she says, barely breaking a sweat. “Leisurely and scenic. I fucking like it.”

I laugh. “Good because I’m not busting my ass by going any faster.”

“Yeah, don’t do that. I like your ass how it is, Banks.”

Blood pumps harder.

I wish I could spin around and just take her face in my hands. Kissing the hell out of Sulli is on my brain when I know I should be more alert.

“Watch for snakes,” Akara calls to us.

Facing forward, I run as fast as I can. Having the longest legs of the three of us means nothing when I’m two-hundred-plus pounds of muscle. I’m not slow, but I lack the speed that Sulli could clock.

Wind whips around us, and my shoes crunch fallen leaves and rocks. Akara and Sulli crack a few jokes for a couple minutes before they go quiet. Just letting nature sink in.

Even with the wind, the air feels still. Strangely calm.

The thump of our feet on the dirt is a familiar noise that brings a sense of comfort. I’ve run miles upon miles in the military, a rucksack strapped to my back. I’ve run after Sulli in Italy.

Now I’m running in front of her in Yellowstone.

I stay in the moment.

I’m right here. My vigilant gaze sweeps every meter ahead. The trail widens, woods on the left, and the endless view of sky on the right. It shouldn’t—and I don’t know why—but Skylar pops into my head.

His face.

The one I remember.

He was fifteen. He’ll always be fifteen to me, even though he was my older brother, and that fact settles heavy on my chest for a split-second.

Suddenly, a bloodcurdling sound rips through the air. Violent, like a cross between a screech and a growl. The second sound comes quicker, faster than I can even turn around.

It’s a loud thump.

I turn to look at Sulli’s six.

At Akara’s six.

No.

I race back to him.

Akara has hit the ground.

And a cougar is braced on his

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