Chapter 4
Chapter four
Sam
The early ride to the river had been quiet.
We packed into Liam’s SUV. I sat up front with him.
Everyone was still waking up, bleary-eyed and bundled in hoodies, nursing travel mugs of coffee like lifelines.
Callie handed me one without a word as I climbed into the passenger seat, their signature spiced brew that somehow managed to taste like autumn and hope at the same time.
They were a little grumpy about forgetting the thermoses of spiked drinks, but we were all grateful they brought a cooler of snacks and sandwiches for later.
To everyone’s surprise, except Evan’s, Noah joined us.
He sat in the back seat, quiet and alert, clutching his thermos like a security blanket.
It wasn’t us he was scared of. He hung out with the group often enough.
But the river? That was another story. His eyes barely left the passing trees on the way up, like he was bracing for something.
Adventure. Or disaster. Possibly both.
Liam kept the music low, one arm slung casually over the wheel, his window cracked just enough to let in the smell of pine and mountain air. No one talked much. No one needed to.
The Havenwood River was alive, wild and surging, its currents carving silver pathways through jagged rocks and foaming whitecaps.
A perfect day for an adventure. The mid-April sun reflected off the water, a bright shimmer that made it look deceptively inviting.
Beneath the surface, though, was power. Unpredictable and untamed. Something you had to respect.
At the launch site, I tightened the straps of my life vest and cast a glance at the others.
Liam stood nearest to the dock, adjusting his vest with entirely too much showmanship.
He flexed his arms unnecessarily like we were about to step into an action movie rather than a river.
It was classic Liam: big presence, big personality, and absolutely no shame in making sure everyone knew it.
It worked for him.
I’d always found him attractive.
Though I rarely let myself dwell on it, I was drawn to guys like Liam. Broad-shouldered, stocky, solid in a way that felt unshakable. The kind of guy who could pick you up without breaking a sweat.
I swallowed.
His beard was perfectly groomed and clean (not some scraggly, unkempt thing) making you wonder what it’d feel like against your skin and smelling the sandalwood beard oil he used.
His strong jaw was offset by a cocky, knowing sneer, the kind that said he was used to getting his way. And those arms… God help me.
And then, of course, he caught me looking.
I rolled my eyes, pretending like I hadn’t been staring, but Liam just winked, like he knew exactly what I was thinking.
Callie, on the other hand, looked 100% done before we even started.
They fidgeted with the straps of their vest, shooting a deeply skeptical look at our river guide.
A man who talked way too fast and exuded frenetic energy, like he was entirely fueled by caffeine and misplaced confidence.
He was cute in that college hipster kind of way. But a bit too scrawny for my liking.
“Oh, fantastic,” Callie bitched. “We’ve put our lives in the hands of a guy who talks like a game show host.”
I snorted. “I’m starting to regret this.”
“Starting?” Callie gestured wildly to the rushing water. “I’m already drafting my will.”
Liam slung an arm around their shoulders, taunting. “Where’s your sense of adventure?”
I wanted this.
An adventure. A challenge. Something that would leave me breathless and adrenaline-drunk by the end of the day.
I was already stretched out, limbering up, and preparing.
This was a physical event. A test of endurance. And unlike the rest of my friends, I actually intended to treat it like one.
Noah was standing a few feet away, arms crossed, mouth pressed into a thin line, glaring at the river like it had personally wronged him.
He was built for precision and control. But here, none of that mattered.
His vest was pulled too tight across his chest, his helmet slightly askew, a rare crack in his normally put-together exterior.
Evan, of course, looked way too entertained by all of this, and absolutely adorable with his dark curls protruding from underneath his helmet.
Evan asked Noah, “You ready, Patel?”
“No.”
I laughed. Of course that was his answer.
As the guide demonstrated proper paddle technique, which, based on his intensity, made it seem like we were training for a military extraction, I adjusted my grip on the paddle.
Liam, standing beside me, leaned in. “This guy seems way too excited about the concept of us falling out of the boat.”
Callie let out a long loud sigh. “If I die, someone better make my eulogy entertaining.”
Noah adjusted his vest with slow, resigned movements. “I’ll make sure they tell everyone you died a coward.”
Callie scoffed. “Bold of you, considering you look two seconds away from sprinting back to the car.”
Noah huffed.
Before he could fire back, Liam closed the distance, dropping a heavy hand onto his shoulder. His tone was overly cheerful, like this was the best idea he’d ever had.
“Well, too late now. You’re in the boat with me.”
For a beautiful second, Noah experienced pure existential dread in real-time.
I grinned. This may turn out to be a total disaster.
The first few minutes on the river were deceptively calm.
The raft floated lazily, the water lapping at the sides in an almost soothing rhythm.
For a moment, I let myself relax.
And then, Evan ruined it.
He turned to the guide, smirking. “So when does the fun start?”
The guide, thrilled by the question, pointed toward the bend in the river.
“Right about… now.”
The raft lurched.
A wall of freezing water crashed into us.
I gasped at the shock of it, my grip tightening instinctively on my paddle.
Noah, who’d been gripping the side like it might bite him, lost his balance and pitched sideways with a startled yelp. For a second, I thought we were about to lose him completely. One leg was already over the edge.
But Evan moved fast.
He grabbed Noah’s life vest and yanked him back before he could go fully overboard. “I got you!” he shouted over the roar of the river.
Noah looked equal parts soaked, mortified, and extremely grateful. He nodded once, wide-eyed, and repositioned himself with a white-knuckled grip on his paddle.
“Paddle, Noah! YOU HAVE TO PADDLE,” I yelled, snapping him out of it.
He blinked, then dug in with his paddle, awkward but determined, and called back, “I AM PADDLING.”
Liam laughed his damn head off.
“Liam!” The guide barked at him next, fighting against the current. “Hard left!”
To his credit, he actually listened.
But he did it with that same infuriating smile, like this was the greatest thing that had ever happened to him.
I kind of hated how much I liked seeing him like this.
The next few bends were a blur of white water and shouted commands, the raft dipping and swaying beneath us, pulling us deeper into the river’s unpredictable rhythm. We moved as a team. Callie yelled in half-panic and I gritted my teeth, determined to keep us on course.
I was hyper-aware of every shift, every stroke of the paddle, every swell of the river that threatened to send us careening off balance.
But Liam was having the time of his life, like the noise in his head finally had something louder to compete with.
“Hell yes!” he shouted, digging his paddle into the water. “This is amazing!”
The raft jerked sideways, the current dragging hard against us. I shifted my weight to counter it, muscles straining, but Liam was already moving too fast.
It happened in a flash. His paddle hit an unexpected resistance, his balance snapped, and his whole body lurched sideways, foot slipping against the slick bottom of the raft.
For a split second, I thought he was going in.
“Liam!” I shouted, reaching out.
His arms pinwheeled. His expression shifted from exhilaration to "oh shit" in record time.
And then some kind of survival instinct took over and I lunged.
But not gracefully.
Not heroically.
More like a desperate, last-second attempt to save his ass.
I reached for his vest, but instead of stopping him cleanly, I grabbed at the first thing I could, his arm.
And that was a mistake. Because Liam was solid.
Which meant that when I yanked, I didn’t just pull him back. I pulled him straight into me.
Physics did the rest.
The raft rocked violently beneath us, and in the worst possible series of events, Liam’s weight hit my chest, and instead of stopping the fall, I went down with him.
We crashed.
It wasn’t graceful. It wasn’t smooth. It was a tangle of limbs, wet gear, and way too much unintentional body contact.
One second, I was bracing for impact. The next? I was flat on my back, Liam on top of me, his face inches from mine.
The world stopped.
The roar of the river faded into the space between us, the only thing I could hear was his sharp inhale, the stunned sound of his breath catching.
His hands were braced against the raft, arms caging me in, our bodies pressed together in a way that felt way too intense for something that was supposed to be a near-death experience.
And my heart was doing something stupid.
Because for a fraction of a second, Liam didn’t move, like his body was waiting for instructions.
And neither did I.
I could feel him. All of him. The weight of him heavy and warm against me, his body damp from the river, his breath fanning across my face. His beard. God, that beard. It was close enough that if I turned my head, I’d know exactly how it felt against my skin. The beard oil…
And then, he grinned. Slow, amused, completely unbothered, slipping back into humor like it was muscle memory. “Well,” he drawled, his voice rough, low, way too damn close. “Wasn’t expecting that.”
I wanted to be annoyed. I wanted to shove him off and pretend this wasn’t messing with my head. But my brain was short-circuiting.
And my body? My body was having an entirely different reaction.
Liam tilted his head, eyebrows raised like he was waiting for me to say something. And for the first time in our entire friendship, I had absolutely no idea what to say.
Instead, I did what any sane, rational person would do. I pushed at his chest, muttering, “Get off me.”
He laughed, but shifted his weight, rolling off just enough to let me scramble upright.
I could still feel the ghost of his body against mine.
The raft rocked again as Callie raised their hands in exasperation. “Can we go five minutes without one of you trying to drown?!”
Liam shot me a look. Still smiling. Still too damn close.
The river was freezing.
Not just chilly or brisk, but bone-deep, slap-you-in-the-face cold.
By the time we pulled the raft onto the rocky shore, my legs were half-numb, and my fingers felt like they belonged to someone else. The kind of cold that clung to you, worming its way through your skin, refusing to let go.
At least I’d had the sense to wear swim trunks.
I glanced down at my thighs pulling at the clinging swim trunks around my hips and groin so that there was still a little mystery about what I was packing. Shrinkage was real, and this river had no mercy.
Callie let out a loud groan, peeling their drenched shirt away from their body like it had personally betrayed them. “I have never been this wet for this long, and I hate it.”
Liam boomed a laugh, clapping them on the back with so much enthusiasm they nearly stumbled. “Then you’re rafting wrong.”
I stretched my shoulders, shaking out my arms, and pushed a hand through my damp hair back from my forehead. The scent of river water, pine, and wet earth filled the air, grounding me in the moment.
Yeah. That was exactly what I’d wanted. Fast. Fun. Just the right amount of chaos.
I unbuckled my life vest, peeling it off satisfied. The adrenaline still pulsed under my ribs, an echo of movement, the feel of paddles slicing through water, the surge of the current trying to take control.
I let my gaze drift over the group. Flushed faces. Breathless laughter.
And then there was Liam. Still beaming, still soaked, still radiating that unshakable confidence, like chaos settled him instead of rattled him.
His shirt clung to his barrel chest, damp fabric stretched over broad shoulders, thick hairy arms. He looked completely unphased by the fact that we’d nearly been swallowed whole by the river at least twice.
I hated that I noticed. But, God help me, I did. I found myself noticing all the time. What is that even about?
I turned away before I did something dumb like stare.
As we started the hike back to the cars, the group buzzed, voices bright with post-adventure adrenaline.
Liam laughed and shook his head. “That last rapid? Nearly baptized us all. I saw my life flash before my eyes.”
I snorted. “You were laughing the whole time.”
“Laughing in the face of danger,” Liam corrected, slinging an arm over my shoulders for half a second before pulling away. “Very heroic of me.”
Callie sighed dramatically, rubbing their stomach. “I think I swallowed half the river. If I grow gills, I’m suing.”
Evan chuckled, pushing damp hair back from his forehead. “Admit it, though. It was fun.”
Callie hesitated then sighed. “Fine. It was decently fun.”
A few feet away, Noah was actually laughing with Evan, their shoulders bumping as they replayed some moment from the last stretch of rapids.
His cheeks were flushed, hair still dripping, and for the first time all day, and probably since I’ve known the guarded nerdy game programmer, he looked relaxed. Happy.
Not just relieved to have survived, but like he’d enjoyed it.
Like maybe Evan had helped him loosen his grip on whatever fear had followed him here.
He caught me looking and shot me a quick smile before turning back to Evan, nudging him with a grin.
It was a good day.