Chapter 10 #2
Blood starts to rush to my head, and I’m feeling dizzy as Reid wades slowly into the cold water. His back tenses as the chill crawls up his body. My braid is dangling over my head, and the ends are getting wet.
“Just do it already!” I shout.
The anticipation is killing me.
Reid shushes me. “Patience, Blondie.”
He tosses me right into the middle of the lake. It’s freezing, but I’m grateful for the cold. I stay under the water for a few seconds too long—just long enough for Reid to feel the beginnings of panic.
Finally, I rise to the surface, letting my head fall back as the water glides off of my face.
I loosen the ends of my braid, letting the tips of my hair dip back into the water. Once I open my eyes, I see Reid is about a foot away, his own messy hair soaked through.
We smile at each other before we start splashing. It’s childish in the best way, and laughter spills freely out of me. My skin has adjusted to the chill, and it almost feels comfortable now. We try, and fail, to get Riley to join us.
She had set up a hot pink blanket and is already eating her share of the spread. Riley is a nightmare to deal with when she’s hungry. That girl can transform from an innocent fairy to a ravenous troll in three seconds flat.
Eventually, we drag ourselves from the chilly lake and do our best to shake dry. My boots and backpack are splayed in a haphazard line. Reid neatly laid his clothes on a sun warmed rock, and I’m jealous of his forethought.
He shakes out his t-shirt and hands it to me. “Here. Wear this til you warm up.”
I want to protest, but his shirt does look much more comfortable than my sweaty tank. This is the second time Reid has given me his clothing this trip, and my hallucinatory brain is attempting to make something out of it.
My current mantra swims through my mind. ‘He’s just being nice.’
Reid is the kind of guy to literally give the shirt off his back to just about anyone.
He gives money to every homeless person he sees.
If he doesn’t have money, he’ll give them food, water, or anything else he can offer.
One time, he literally gave a guy his shoes.
He walked around the rest of the day in his socks.
Reid giving me his shirt doesn’t mean anything, not really.
Damien made him promise he’d take care of me, and that’s exactly what this is.
Riley hands us both a plate of food. It’s only a sandwich and some crackers, yet it somehow looks like a gourmet meal. Food always tastes better in the mountains.
We sit there soaking in the sun like a bunch of lizards. Riley pulls out a thermos full of lemonade. I fucking love lemonade, and I love Riley for bringing it. But before she lets me drink it she’s asking, “Can you take a few pics of me by the water?”
Without hesitation, I grab for her phone. “Yup. No problem.”
“Sorry. I just have a brand deal due for these shorts.”
“It’s fine. I don’t mind!” It’s weird that she’s apologizing. I’m used to being her photographer.
We’ve been off this trip. She’s treating me like a wounded bird, trying too hard to bring me back to life.
Reid’s shirtless torso is glimmering in the sun, and it’s hard not to look his way.
I’ve been trying to read on my kindle, but every few pages I feel my gaze being pulled.
Riley is reading too, but she clearly has no issue focusing.
I used to think that Reid and Riley would make a good couple.
Looking at them now, I see how little chemistry they have.
They’re both a little too bright—almost like they cancel each other out.
They only tolerate each other for me. I’ve never actually seen them have a conversation alone together.
Once I realize I’ve read the same page five times without retaining a thing, I get up from the blanket and make my way over to shirtless Reid on his rock.
He is whittling a stick while we read, and he looks like he’s lost in thought.
It doesn’t seem like he realizes I’m standing in front of him, so I take the opportunity to lift the soft cotton up over my head while he’s not paying attention.
The skin on my exposed stomach immediately covers itself in goosebumps.
My thumb grazes over the edge of the shirt one last time, savoring the feel of it. Logically, I know that it’s the same as any other shirt, but it always feels like Reid infuses his clothes with a little bit of himself.
I toss the shirt at him, and he barely stirs. Sitting down next to him, I poke his shoulder. “What are you brooding about? Isn’t that Damien’s thing?”
He eyes land on me, but he doesn’t quite meet my gaze. Reid never comes across as sad or even contemplative. It makes me uncomfortable to see him like this. My eyebrows knit together, and he must see it because he immediately paints on a smile.
His eyes keep bouncing from me to the ground, and I can’t figure out why until I remember that I’m practically naked. My sports bra and cheeky underwear aren’t exactly leaving much to the imagination, not that I think Reid has ever imagined me naked.
I jump off the rock and race off to get dressed. This is exactly what I was wearing when he threw me in the lake, but now that I’m dry I feel more exposed.
After tugging on my hiking pants, I start lacing up my boots so we can head back down to the hotel.
Reid is all packed up and starts trying to tug the picnic blanket out from under Riley.
She won’t budge and keeps holding up her finger as if to silence him.
Riley must be in the middle of a chapter.
Reid doesn’t get it and keeps tugging harder and harder until she ends up on the mushy dirt.
“Reid Antonio Hastings.”
Reid absolutely hates his middle name. It’s his father’s name. I’m not sure the exact reasons he hates his father, but I know that he does—passionately.
Wet pieces of dirt shift under my boots as I scramble to gather our belongings. “Let’s head back to the hotel.”
Riley looks pleased with herself, and Reid is glaring at her.
But they both seem to listen to me, and start collecting their bags too.
The qualifying race starts at nine a.m. tomorrow.
This morning was fun, but I desperately need to relax for the rest of today if I stand any chance of making it down the mountain alive.
The familiar disquiet of my mind starts to take hold as we slowly descend the trail.
I love biking…really I swear I do, but sometimes I worry that I wasn’t cut out for this.
The feeling when I finally hit a jump or nail a landing is unmatched.
Nothing in life has ever made me feel quite as alive as biking, but every time I line up at the trail head, I somehow feel like it’s my first time on a bike.
It’s an infuriating phenomenon—shouldn’t it be getting easier?
Reid is never phased. No matter how big the drop or how technical the trail is, he trusts his body to do it, and it always obeys.
Rock slips beneath me and my breath hitches. My friends don’t notice—they’re staring off into the distance as they place each sure foot in front of the other. Even hiking makes me nervous, how can I call myself a professional mountain biker?