CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO #2
Our breathing eases just as the first droplets of rain begin to hit around us.
The wind while we’ve been hiking brought in what looks to be quite a storm.
Moving quickly, we pull our jackets on in an attempt to stay somewhat dry, considering we still have a forty-five-minute hike downhill to the van.
I reach for Avi’s hand and pull her along in my wake down the single-track trail, trying to ensure neither of us ends up in the dirt or sliding down the mountainside.
The rain is falling in earnest by the time the van comes into view.
The dirt parking lot resembles a mud pit and most of the cars have already cleared out.
The back door creaks when I pull it open and we both jump in, boots and all, to shelter from the deluge.
We’re drenched and laughing and it reminds me of the day on the ferry.
Today though, we don’t have a warm house or warm showers to escape into.
We only have this van, and there’s no one to scold us for staying out too late.
We still have hours before we’re due back home.
We’re bent double at the back of the van, attempting to strip off our dripping jackets and discard our boots without getting the bed and everything else wet. Our shirts are damp from our distracted kiss and from sweat—it was no casual stroll to the top and it was more of a chaotic slog to get down.
“I’ll turn the heat on.” I climb over the bed to shove the keys into the ignition from behind the captain’s chairs and crank the heat as high as it will go. “There. It shouldn’t take long to warm up in here.”
I look over my shoulder and watch a shiver overtake Avi as she scooches forward on the mattress toward where I’m kneeling.
The only dry clothing in the van is my Empyreal sweatshirt… The one Avi kept two summers ago that she wears more often than not. I’ve wondered more than I should if she wears it at home in Glasgow too, or if she only does it for me. It would keep her warm, but not over her wet clothes.
I grab it off her seat and toss it to her. “You should put that on.”
“It’ll just get wet too,” she says through chattering teeth, “so what good will that do me?”
“Take the wet stuff off for now. I can put it over the heater vent to help it dry.”
She blushes, cheeks turning the perfect shade of pink to match her kissable lips.
“I won’t look,” I say. “I promise.”
We’ve made out on the shore of the loch in only our bathing suits, so I’ve seen most of her body—I know how her skin feels against mine—but this is different, and I don’t want her to be uncomfortable around me. Ever.
“O-okay.” She stammers over the word due to the continued chattering of her teeth.
I turn back toward the front to mess with the vents, hoping to trigger more airflow. There’s not much to be done for my clothes. My shorts are made of a quick dry fabric but they’re pretty wet and my shirt is damp and cold against my skin.
“I can get the picnic basket out and we can have lunch back there—” I say, keeping my eyes firmly focused out the windshield, but a hand on my calf cuts off both my sentence and my reach for the basket.
When I turn around, I’m rendered completely speechless.
Avi sits with her legs bent under her, the bottom of the sweatshirt skimming her thighs.
Her hair is pulled up into a knot on top of her head, and despite the cold, she looks even more flushed than she did a minute ago.
A small pile of her wet clothes sits beside her—shorts, T-shirt, sports bra…
panties. My mouth goes dry and my body stirs to life, no longer affected by the cold or the wet.
It’s instantly attuned to her being this close.
She looks perfect in nothing but my sweatshirt. Her brown eyes are wide and her hand is still on my bare calf. It shifts slightly higher, just enough for my breath to catch.
I forget about the basket and turn to take her in, until I’m kneeling before her.
“Jamie…” she whispers.
My name on her lips when she looks like this is more than I can handle.
“Yeah…” I husk, unsure if I can form a coherent sentence at this point.
“Truth?” she asks.
I swallow thickly and watch the pulse jump in her neck before I answer, “Always.”
“Have you… Have you ever…” She turns her head away and I reach for her chin. I want to see every part of the question in her eyes. “Are you a virgin?” The heat in her cheeks rises, her ears and the skin on her neck, just below where my hand rests, warming as well.
I hold her gaze. Nervousness, excitement, and maybe a little embarrassment all warring with each other for the top spot.
I swallow again so my voice won’t crack. “I am.” Her eyes widen a little, but she doesn’t look away. “Are… Are you?”
Her eyes close, lashes fluttering against her skin just above her freckles, and she attempts to dip her chin, but I still have it in my hand.
“Yes.” Those lashes finally open and her brown eyes hold my green ones. “I-I—” she stammers, her voice shaking a little. But it’s not from the cold this time. “I think I want it to be you. No, I know I want it to be you, Jamie.”
My breath whooshes from my lungs and everything in my body goes tight. Hard. Holy hell. Did she… Did she just say…
“Truth?” I ask, that one word coming out rougher than ever before.
“Always, Jamie,” she whispers.
I slide my hand from her chin to her neck and feel her pulse race under it. “Are you sure?” I ask.
She nods. “Yes, but do you want…”
Before she can finish her question, I’m slanting my mouth over hers, showing her the answer. Of course I do—want her, need her, want this with her. She was my first kiss. It only makes sense for her to be my first for this too.
I lay her down on the bed, and as the rain on the roof of the van gets heavier, it wraps us in a cocoon of white noise that drowns out everything outside.
Inside, it’s just us.