Chapter 5
Chapter 5
Penny
I brush away a pine branch as I follow Cooper around the next bend in the trail.
The trees are thick here, tall ponderosa pines with sap-filled branches. About thirty seconds into this walk—which feels more like a hike—my hair got up close and personal with a sticky pinecone. It took Cooper fifteen minutes to work it out completely, and even so, I think he yanked out more hair than necessary.
I stick my tongue out, even though he’s facing forward. It was his brilliant idea to ditch the crowds at the main entry point and head for this little lookout instead. A twenty-minute walk, his phone said.
Lies.
“You know, people go missing in national parks all the time.”
“We’re fine.” He steps around an outcropping of rock. “This isn’t random, it’s a named lookout point and everything. Watch out for that. Don’t trip.”
“If we fall into the canyon together—”
“We’re not going to fall into the canyon.” He looks over his shoulder. It’s hot out; even with the shade from the pines, sweat has soaked through his shirt and his face is all red. I’m sure I don’t look much better. “Take a sip of water.”
I scowl as I unscrew the top of my water bottle. He takes a drink from his as well, peering into the forest ahead. I know that the canyon is around here somewhere, but right now, it just feels like we’re in the middle of a random forest.
We keep going, but he slows his pace, tangling his sweaty hand in mine. The trees seem to be thinning out, at least.
“It’s pretty here,” he says. “Being so high up. And all these pines.” He ducks his head as we skirt around a tree with low-hanging branches. “Maybe you should set your next book in Arizona.”
“Maybe if I write that book about the guy from the rival pack.”
“Monica is emailing you feedback when we get home, right?”
“Yeah.” My stomach clenches with anxiety. Giving the finished book—albeit an edited version, the best I could do on my own—to Monica, my friend from Book Magic, was nerve-racking, to say the least. I still haven’t decided what I’m going to do with it, whether I’ll publish it myself or try to find an agent. I’m not convinced I’ll be able to make it as an author, and that’s first on the list of things I don’t want to think about too deeply right now.
The other is what I’ll do when Cooper graduates and goes off to play in the NHL, and I’ll be stuck in Moorbridge for at least another year, finishing my degree. It’s not that I don’t think we’ll be able to handle long distance, it’s just that I don’t want to. I don’t want to talk to him on the phone and watch his games on television. I want to be by his side, wherever he is. But my dad—and probably Cooper, let’s be real—would flip if I tried to drop out or finish school online.
“I can tell you’re thinking,” he says. He guides me forward with a hand on my back around a narrow part of the trail. “Probably overthinking. What about?”
I turn, brushing a kiss to his lips. Even though we’re both sweaty, he wraps his arm around my waist and tugs me closer. “About how I don’t want to stay alone in Moorbridge after you graduate.”
“That’s a year from now, gummy bear.”
“I know.” I kiss him again quickly. “Still sucks to think about.”
“It won’t be forever. And you’ll have Mia.” He holds a branch up so I can walk underneath it. “Do you think they’ve killed each other yet?”
The question startles me into laughter. I squint at the sun. I missed this air, the cacti and succulents and pines, the strength of the sunlight. It’s hard to think of New York while we’re here. When I suggested this trip, I’d hoped that part of it would be healing. That exploring the country with Cooper would lead somewhere. It’s definitely been nice, but I’m still anxious about so many things. Tempe looms ahead, and I have no idea what to do when we visit my mother’s grave.
“I think we would have heard by now if there was a double murder.”
Cooper shakes his head. “I can’t believe Mia hasn’t said anything to you.”
“It’s not like Seb told you anything.”
“True.” He kicks a rock, sending it skittering ahead of us. “Maybe they went back to fucking. Or whatever the hell they were doing together.”
Mia is working at a lab on campus this summer, and apparently her housing fell through—something about a flood ruining her favorite pair of boots—because a couple days after we got on the road, she texted to say she was staying at the house with Sebastian. Izzy is doing an internship for a wedding planner in New York, but Sebastian’s baseball season is still going on, so he’s been in Moorbridge, taking care of Tangy. With Mia, apparently. I shake my head. I called her to ask how that happened, but she just gave me some vague bullshit about working out a deal with him.
Alone. In Moorbridge. With Sebastian.
Maybe they are fucking again. She wanted nothing to do with him after we discovered them together right before we left for the Frozen Four, but who knows. Sebastian does have a certain kind of quiet, appealing energy. He’s not at all like the kinds of people I’ve seen Mia hook up with, but maybe that’s a good thing.
“If they actually dated, that could be nice.”
Cooper snorts. “I know the kinds of girls Seb dates, and they’re nothing like Mia di Angelo.”
“Oh, come on. She can be nice when she wants to be.”
He wraps his arm around me. “Not nice like you.”
“Maybe just as naughty, though. Seb could use that.”
He makes a face and says, “Super not interested in thinking about my brother and the word ‘naughty’ in the same sentence.”
I open my mouth to reply—but the view makes the words die in my throat.
We’re at the edge of the little pine forest, and ahead, the canyon spreads out across the landscape. It’s so large, reds and browns and grays crowding in on one another, that it feels like it goes on forever. The cerulean sky practically sparkles overhead, dotted with fluffy clouds. In the distance, far below, I catch a glimpse of the Colorado River. It looks like a ribbon, the water running in shades of blue.
“Wow,” Cooper breathes.
“I take back what I said,” I say faintly.
There doesn’t seem to be anyone here except a lone hiker, camera in hand. We walk forward slowly. Ahead, at the edge of the lookout, there’s a big, flat rock, perfect for sitting on. I lead the way to the rock, swiveling my head around as I take in the de tails. Cooper was right about heading for a less-known location. I could stay here for hours, and thanks to the quiet, I won’t feel guilty if we do exactly that. I shade my eyes and watch as a hawk streaks across the sky.
“Beautiful,” I say softly.
“Yeah,” Cooper says, his voice equally quiet. I glance over.
He’s not looking at the view.