Chapter 13
Jett
We hit the trail bright and early the next day. Despite drinking more last night than I normally do, I didn't wake up with a hangover. Neither did Wilkin or Reeve. After downing another delicious breakfast courtesy of Farrah, we got ready and headed out.
The weather is glorious, not a cloud in the sky, and not too hot yet either, which is good. What's even better is there's no lingering weirdness after last night. If anything, it's dislodged the usual animosity between Wilkin and me, and the three of us haven't stopped yapping all morning.
Reeve just asked Wilkin how he got into TV producing, so Wilkin is telling him the story I know only too well.
How a scholarship was his chance to leave our hometown, how hard he had to hustle in Hollywood, working countless jobs to scrape by, and how a chance encounter with a bigwig exec.
while valeting his car led to his big break and finally getting his foot in the door.
My blood should be boiling. I applied for that scholarship, too, and only he got it. I worked my ass off for minimum pay and in shitty conditions for years, too, and I never once ran into anyone who could open doors for me.
But for some reason, I'm not mad.
Maybe because I'm too busy thinking about kissing Wilkin.
It wasn't weird like I would've assumed it'd be.
If anything, it was electric. And he seemed really into it, which only made it hotter.
I'd have thought the second Reeve pulled back, he'd be out of there, too.
But nope. He stayed. Pulled me in. Kissed me even harder than before.
And Reeve was right there. Rubbing himself as he watched Wilkin and me make out, the taste of his lips on mine still there.
The whole experience was the single hottest thing I've ever done.
Because for all the shit I throw Wilkin's way about not getting any, even when I do get some, I'm pretty vanilla.
Blowing a guy in his bedroom while his housemate was watching TV in the living room is about the wildest thing I've done.
"So how did you two end up working on the same TV show?" Reeve asks, which I guess is my cue to stop woolgathering, as my grandma used to call it, and join the conversation.
"I saw an ad for an assistant in the trade paper and applied," I say. "That's about it."
Reeve looks at me then shifts his focus to Wilkin. That smug smile is back on his lips for some reason.
"Is that all there is?" Reeve asks him, which is an odd question to direct to him since he had nothing to do with me getting a job on KUWTV.
"Uh, yeah," Wilkin answers, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear. "That's all there is."
I'm about to press Wilkin on it since I know him well enough to know he's not saying something when Reeve announces, "Sharp left. And be careful because the terrain is going to get really uneven from here on in."
Me being me, I take the left first and skip ahead, turning around to face Reeve and Wilkin walking toward me.
"Careful," Reeve warns.
"Oh, come on, Mr. Adventurer. Don't tell me you're scared of a little uneven hiking trail."
And, of course, as soon as I say that, the back of my shoe catches on a jagged rock jutting out of the path, throwing me off balance. Thankfully, I manage to recover without injury. Or humiliating myself too much.
Both Reeve and Wilkin have darted forward to help me, but that's unnecessary because I am what? One lucky son of a gun.
Reeve fills the next twenty minutes with tales from his most recent adventure, exploring the Danakil Depression in Ethiopia, and then we arrive at a pristine waterfall.
"Wow. It's way bigger than I thought it would be," Wilkin says, staring up at it in wonder.
"That's what he said," I joke, easing my backpack off my shoulders and onto the ground.
"It's the treacherous walk to get to it," Reeve says, still smiling at my remark as he takes a sip of water. "It's what prevents it from being overrun by tourists."
"So we have this whole place to ourselves?" I ask.
"Sure do," Reeve says, taking it all in with that smile glued to his face. He's in his customary black T-shirt, his forearms tanned and glistening with sweat. How did we get so lucky to meet someone not only so hot but genuinely nice as well?
A few feet behind him, Wilkin takes off his shirt. Despite having seen his body in the pool, the abs and the arms and those ridiculous pecs still manage to catch me off guard. I always assumed he didn't do anything but work, but he clearly gets his gym time in.
"Uh, Jett?" Reeve whispers, coming in close.
"Yeah," I reply a little hoarsely, not taking my eyes off Wilkin.
Reeve gently nudges me with his elbow. "You're drooling, buddy."