Chapter 27
TWENTY-SEVEN
He has to be fucking kidding me.
I stare at the signpost that taunts me with its declaration.
Three more hours to the top of the mountain.
We’ve already been hiking for an hour, and it’s been grueling. My legs burn, my chest heaves, and I’m all too aware that I’m no better at this than I was last time.
“Don’t look at it. Come on.” Misha grins at me, his eyes twinkling with mischief when I scowl at him.
“You said this one was easier. Three hours? I’m sorry, but this is not bloody happening. In no world or universe will I make it up to the top today, let alone walk back down again.”
I think it was the descent that left my legs aching for days last time.
“Who said we were going all the way up?” He grabs my hand, his grin widening. “It’s just around the corner. I found something yesterday when I was coming down from the top, and I wanted to show you.”
“You were at the top yesterday?”
And you can still walk today?
“It was spontaneous.”
Sure, who doesn’t take a spontaneous six-hour hike?
“Come on.” He tugs me along, and despite my half-hearted complaints, I let him lead me.
We round a corner, and suddenly, the dense forest opens up, revealing a breathtaking meadow stretched out before us.
Wildflowers in every imaginable color sway gently in the breeze, and right in the center, a field of daisies catches the sunlight, their white petals glowing against the green.
“This is beautiful.” The words slip out in a whisper as I step into the meadow, completely captivated by the sight. The air feels different here, fresher, almost magical, and I can’t help but feel like I’ve stumbled into a dream.
“I hoped you’d think that.” Misha comes to stand beside me, and there’s a quiet intensity in his gaze as he watches me take it all in.
“I saw it and thought of you. It reminded me of the meadow in your favorite movie. And I’ve never seen daisies bloom this late in the season.
Maybe it’s because we’re higher up the mountain.
I’m not sure. But the moment I found this place, I just knew I had to show it to you. ”
“Daisies are my favorite,” I whisper.
They always were.
He gently pulls me to face him, a look of surprise and delight in his eyes. “Really?”
“They are. They’re just… beautifully simple. Not screaming for attention.”
He looks at me for a long moment, and it feels like he’s memorizing every detail of my face, taking in each nuance, each expression.
When he reaches up to stroke my cheek, the gesture is so tender that it sends a shiver down my spine.
“I love that,” he murmurs, his voice full of admiration. “Come on. Let’s have our picnic.”
“Picnic?”
We walk into the middle of the meadow and sit on the blanket Misha lays out among the daisies. The wind plays with loose strands of my braid, and the sun warms my face. Misha drops his backpack and starts unpacking, pulling out Tupperware containers filled with fruit, chocolate, and croissants.
“I’ve been craving these croissants since I first thought of getting them for you,” he says, handing me one.
I take it with a quiet “Thank you,” feeling butterflies fluttering in my belly. His dark curls whip in the wind, and he looks so effortlessly handsome.
It should be illegal to look that good while hiking.
After I finish the croissant, I take a bite of a strawberry and then eat a piece of chocolate in quick succession.
“Interesting choice,” Misha says, watching me with amused eyes. “I wanted to bring Twizzlers, but I thought strawberries would be the better option for a picnic.”
I laugh softly, the sound mingling with the rustling of the wildflowers. “Strawberries are always the right choice, no matter what form they’re in.”
“Noted. Is that one of your truths?” he asks, sucking some strawberry juice off his fingertip.
My eyes zero in on his lips, and I can’t quite remember what he just said. “What?”
“Tell me two truths and a lie?” He grins, a playful spark in his eyes.
I’ve heard about this game but have never played it before. “You first.”
“Okay,” he says, thinking for a moment. “Two truths and a lie. Let’s see… I once ate an entire family-sized pizza by myself, I have a tattoo that no one knows about, and I can juggle.”
I laugh, trying to picture him juggling. “Hmm, this is tricky. The pizza thing is definitely true. You love food too much for it not to be. And the tattoo… that one’s believable. But juggling? I don’t think so. The lie is you can juggle.”
He laughs, shaking his head. “Wrong. I actually can juggle. The tattoo is the lie.”
I gape at him. “Really? Show me.”
He grabs a few small stones from the ground and expertly tosses them into the air, juggling them with ease.
I clap, impressed. “Okay, okay, you win this round.” I think for a moment, trying to come up with something tricky.
“All right. Two truths and a lie. I once got lost in a foreign city for an entire day, I can’t swim, and I hate broccoli. ”
He furrows his brow. “Let’s see… I’ve seen you eat broccoli so that one’s definitely a lie. The other two must be true.”
I laugh, shaking my head. “Wrong. I hate broccoli. Grey chose lunch for me that time.”
He looks at me in amused disbelief. “And why would you eat it if you hate it?”
I just shrug. “It wasn’t a big deal.”
And I learned early to eat stuff I don’t like to prevent a scene.
He nods, still smiling. “Okay, so what is it then?”
“I never got lost in a foreign city.”
You can’t get lost when your driver takes you everywhere.
“You can’t swim?” he asks, genuinely surprised.
“No. Never needed to learn,” I say, trying to brush it off.
He shakes his head, a determined look in his eyes. “We’re going to teach you that. Grey is going to throw a fit when he finds out you’re lacking another basic human skill.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Another?”
“Breathing,” he says, his grin widening.
“Hey, that is only when I eat peanuts,” I retort, laughing. “I can breathe under normal circumstances.”
“Tell him that,” he teases. “Also, the way you just panted up here had me thinking about that EpiPen.”
I roll my eyes, but I can’t help but laugh. “You nutter!”
He chuckles, the sound warm and contagious. “Well, it’s true. I was a little worried for a second there.”
“Good to know you care,” I say, my tone teasing, but there’s an earnestness in my words that I hope he hears.
He looks at me, his expression suddenly serious. “Of course I care, Amelia. I care very much about you.”
The sincerity in his voice makes my heart flutter. “I care a lot about you too.”
He reaches out to take my hand, his eyes holding mine as he leans in closer. “How’s the weather inside you today?”
“Sunny,” I whisper, and his answering grin is everything.
I feel something tickling my cheek, and without thinking, I screech and jump, swatting at my face.
Misha bursts out laughing. “Relax, it’s just a ladybug.” He reaches out, grabbing my wrist and pulling me closer. With a delicate touch, he catches the tiny creature on his finger, holding it up for me to see.
I feel my face flush with embarrassment. “It startled me,” I mumble, feeling silly for overreacting.
He grins, watching the ladybug crawl across his finger. “Oh look, it has your color,” he teases, his grin widening.
“You’re a jerk, you know that?” I say, raising an eyebrow, half-amused, half-annoyed.
“I do,” he replies, still grinning. He carefully sets the ladybug on a nearby daisy, the flower swaying under its weight. “But you like me anyway, Bug.”
“Bug? Really? That’s not very nice,” I frown.
He leans in until our shoulders touch. “It is when they’re cute and small and red and bring good luck.”
“I’m not small. I’m even a bit taller than you,” I say without thinking, and my eyes widen as I realize how this could sound like an insult.
Men don’t usually like being called short.
But instead of looking hurt, Misha’s eyes heat up. “Oh, I noticed. I like it,” he says, his voice dropping to a more intimate tone.
My heart skips a beat at his words. The air between us feels charged, and I find myself leaning in just a little bit closer. His eyes flicker down to my lips, and for a moment, I’m sure he’s going to kiss me.
Please kiss me.
Then, just as quickly, he pulls back, breaking the spell. “We should go back,” he says abruptly, standing up and starting to gather our things.
I blink, trying to process the sudden shift.
What did I do?
“Right, yeah,” I mumble, standing to help him pack up. For a brief moment, the vibe feels off, the earlier tension replaced by an awkward silence.
But as I glance over at Misha, I see his familiar grin return, his eyes sparkling with the same playful light as before. He catches my eye and winks.
“Come on, Bug, the sooner we’re home, the earlier I can order us pizza for the movie we’re going to watch later.”
I can’t help but laugh, the last of the awkwardness dissipating. “We just ate.”
“And?”
We finish packing up and start making our way back down the trail. The hike down is much easier, but fatigue is setting in.
We’re almost at the car when Misha suddenly trips and falls hard onto the ground.
“Misha!” I rush to his side. “Are you okay?”
He grimaces, clutching his ankle. “I twisted it again. Dammit, this ankle is always giving me trouble.”
It looks more like he’s the one giving his ankle trouble, but saying that wouldn’t help him right now.
“Can you walk?”
“I don’t know…” He stands and tries to take a step but winces in pain. “Maybe I have to wait a little.”
“Looks like I’m the one who has to give you a piggyback ride after all,” I joke.
“So not happening,” he repeats my words, making me smirk.
I move to his side and slip my arm around his waist, guiding his arm over my shoulder. “Lean on me.”
“Amelia, you don’t have to do this,” he protests, but I can see the pain in his eyes.
“Come on,” I say firmly, adjusting my grip to support his weight better.