Chapter 21 #2
I can’t help a chuckle at the amount of attitude he loads into the word.
“—But it’s definitely better on gas than your truck.”
“What about you?”
“I’m going back to Seattle for a couple days, so I won’t need it. Gemma’s been dying for me to meet her new girlfriend, and my parents get back from Spain on Thursday. You could drop Cyril and me off on your way and pick us up on Friday evening?”
“Seriously?”
“Of course.”
Yeah, there’s the fact that I really hadn’t wanted to drive Dad’s old Chevy halfway across the state. Not only is gas an issue like Charlie said, but I’m also not so sure the thing would make it, if I’m being honest.
Those are the practical explanations for the fact that I suddenly feel about twenty pounds lighter.
Getting to spend a couple hours with Charlie on Tuesday night on the way to Seattle and again on Friday night on the way back home should be secondary to the fact that now I won’t have to worry about breaking down halfway over a mountain pass. Thing is, I’m not so sure it really is.
“I knew it was serious when we spent, like, half a day dissecting all the possible things Rosa might have meant when she told Gemma she ‘hoped she’d see her again’ that night they first met,” Charlie laughs.
“Gemma has never been the overanalyzing type. Usually, she’s the one telling me I overthink everything. ”
I can’t stop myself from looking back over my shoulder for the umpteenth time.
It’s self-sabotaging as all hell, because the goal of walking in front of him was to try to keep the constant stream of weird thoughts out of my head so I can just make it through today without having to think too hard about the complete mind-fuck of a revelation I’m teetering on the edge of.
Turning back just puts me face to face with the way his bright, ever-changingly green eyes are smiling right along with the rest of him, and how he’s so caught up in his genuine joy over his cousin’s happiness that I can feel it pouring off of him.
He’s doing the thing he always does when he’s really excited about something, waving his hands around as he talks, and it’s just so damn cute—
If I hadn’t made myself turn forward again, I’d have walked smack into the enormous fir tree that’s fallen across the sharp bend we’ve just taken in the trail.
As it is, I barely stop in time to keep from running face first into the spread of branches that reach up higher than I am tall from the huge trunk blocking our path.
A second later, Charlie stumbles to a stop behind me. On instinct, I pivot back, reaching out and grabbing hold of his waist to keep him from crashing straight into me.
“You okay?” I let go as quickly as I’d grabbed him, stepping aside to put a bit of distance between us.
I’ve never needed to keep any kind of bubble from him, even though, with the exception of last weekend, Charlie’s always been the touchy-feely one.
Right now though, being up in his space is only messing with my head and adding to the mixed-up tangle of weirdness that just won’t let up.
Only thing is, as soon as his waist’s gone from under my hands, I really fucking want it back.
“I’m the one who nearly just took you out," he laughs, shaking his head as he too takes a step back from me. “Yeah, I’m totally fine.” He reaches down and straightens his shirt. “This doesn’t mean we’ll have to turn back, does it? Can we, like, climb over it or something?”
He flicks his hand in the direction of the massive trunk blocking our path. Under his casual front, I can see the cautious way he eyes the huge spread of the thick tangle of branches.
I cross my arms over my chest, hooking my thumbs in the straps of my pack as I raise my eyebrows at him. “Are you just trying to prove you’re not a fussy city boy?”
I can’t tell whether I’m grasping at straws for a bit of normalcy, or if I’m teasing him just to see if I can get another rise out of him.
“Mean.” He tsks at me and plants his hand on his hip, trying to look offended for half a second before he gives up. “Okay, so what if I am? Would this do it?”
“It’d help,” I grin at him, giving in to the inevitable enough to let myself soak in the way his smile makes my heart feel lighter than it really has any right to.
“Plus, it would mean you’d still get to see the view of the falls we’ll get to in another mile or so.
If you don’t want to though, we can always turn back. ”
“You seriously think I’m going to give up on our day because of a little tree?” His hand lands back on his hip as he narrows his eyes at me. “I am so not ready to go back.”
“That’s not a little tree,” I grin at him, already stepping forward to look for the best place to shove through the mass of branches that are so dense, it’s hard to even see through to the trunk.
Once I push in among the needles and boughs, it’s not so bad. Yeah, it’s damp and messy, but it’s easy enough to force the branches aside.
“You okay?” I take a step to the side, using my body to bend back some of the branches to make it easier for Charlie to follow without having to fight his way through quite as much as I’ve been.
“Fabulous,” he grimaces.
I have to fight back a fussy city boy comment as I watch him turn sideways with his hands raised up to shoulder level as he tries to avoid touching the grimy branches as much as possible.
It doesn’t seem fair to give him crap when he’s putting in such an effort to do something he’s clearly uncomfortable with.
Plus, there’s that weirdness switching on again, making me go all mushy feeling over how damn cute he is as he barely holds back a squeal when a needle covered twig brushes the back of his neck.
“I’ll check you all over for bugs when we get through,” I tell him, and the moment the words are out of my mouth, an unfamiliar feeling twists in my stomach.
It’s equal parts embarrassment at how weird my voice had sounded for some reason when I’d said it—low and intense and…
god, almost flirty, especially over the all over part—and this tight, tingly sort of heat that feels an awful lot like…
“Ohmigod, don’t you dare make me think about bugs while I’m smooshing through all of this!” He really does squeal the words this time, and I’m sure if he wasn’t so busy brushing his shoulders off now, I’d have just earned myself another indignant smack.
“You want to go back?”
“No.” He shakes his head, giving his hair a swipe with his hand.
There’s a bit of something caught in his bangs that his fingers only just miss, and before I can think twice or stop myself or even know if I want to stop myself, I’m reaching up and dusting it away. “No bugs,” I almost whisper. “Just a fir needle.”
My heart’s pounding like crazy as I pull my hand back like his soft, warm hair’s just burned me.
There’s no putting any real space between us, and the best I can do is look away.
I’m not quick enough though to miss seeing that look on his face is just about as confused as I’m sure the one on mine’s gotta be.
“Try and get up on the trunk there,” I clear my throat, very much not looking at him as I point to a spot where several limbs meet the trunk in a rough sort of ladder.
Whatever may or may not be starting to unfold in my brain right now, it needs to wait until we’re not getting swallowed by evergreen branches. “Just be careful of those broken bits.”
A couple of the branches must have snapped against other trees on the way down. It’s not enough to make getting through any easier. Instead, it’s left sharp, jagged pieces sticking out at odd angles a couple feet from the trunk.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Charlie nod before planting his foot on the first branch and hoisting himself up.
I do not use the opportunity to run my eyes up his legs, where his tight jeans pull at his long, toned thighs, because that would be completely unacceptable. Instead, I make my eyes stay on his feet, watching to make sure he doesn’t slip on the mossy, slippery surface. Like a good friend should do.
“You good?” I ask the heels of his hikers. He’s completely fine. I’m only asking for something—anything to do with myself.
“Totally good.”
Movement makes me look up to see him grinning at me over his shoulder. When he blinks, long, auburn lashes sweep against his faintly freckled cheeks, and suddenly, I can’t even breathe. Just stare. And stare, and stare as my heartrate picks up and my dick twitches with a sudden vengeance.
That dream last night—
My fingers tugging at impossibly silky, caramel-gold hair as his head falls back on the pillow and his bright green eyes flutter shut. The feel of soft, pillowy lips sucking desperately at mine as my hand slips down over smooth, lean abs—
It was him.
Panic seizes me at the same moment as all the weird shit that’s been turning me inside out over the past weeks falls into place. Absurdly obvious, life-altering place.
Blissfully unaware, Charlie turns away from me to keep climbing up over the tree trunk, and my eyes rake over his body like they’ve got a mind of their own.
As I watch, he reaches up to grab hold of a higher branch. His shirt lifts, and I’m face to face with the delicious dimples set low in his toned back.
My lips tingle with the thought of how it would feel to press them against those little dents. It would be so easy to just lean in and catch him around the hips with my hands so I could do it. Move in just one foot, and I could bury my face against his smooth, tight skin and feel him.
Doesn’t matter that the rest of me is still freaking out about the realization that’s just crashed through me. Just the thought of tasting his skin has my dick aching as it strains against my jeans.
Oh, I am definitely not straight. And while I definitely have no hard feelings over this revelation in general (pun not intended), I am in a world of shit right now because I am also, most definitely, very much into the one man I cannot ever afford to tell about it.
Nothing, and I mean nothing is going to make me risk fucking things up with Charlie a second time around.