22. Ashlie
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
ASHLIE
“ L et me get this straight,” I say to Trevor. “You’re a tech nerd, you served in the Coast Guard, and you play piano? You got a cape hidden under that T-shirt too?”
“Eh, I’m well-rounded, but I’m still working on the superhero alter ego.” He winks, and the school-girl giggle that erupts out of me is only a bit of a surprise. He’s been making me laugh like this the entire hike, completely taking my mind off the mess waiting at the cabin. We reach a clearing, crunching through red and yellow maple leaves until we settle onto a fallen log. The sun hangs high in the sky, highlighting the rusted color of his hair in an easy comparison to the leaves dropping from the trees.
“I can grab you some leggings from work whenever you’re ready for that part. You’re on your own with the cape, though…” I tease. “Is there anything else I should know?”
“Hmm”—he stretches his long legs out in front of him—“I was a theater kid, played football, and joined the swim team.”
“You’re kidding!” I grip his arm from excitement, only to drop my hand quickly when I realize the intimacy. “I was on the swim team too.”
“Oh, yeah?” His brows rise with interest. “Swim is what got the Coast Guard on my radar. So, you did cheer and swim?”
Nodding, I pull some bark off the log, breaking little bits with my fingers and sprinkling them on the ground to occupy my hands. “Cheerleading was for my parents, but swimming was all mine. It kept me sane, and, despite being short, I broke some records at ULA. Earned the team captain spot my senior year too.”
“That’s impressive.” He nudges my shoulder with a flirty grin. “I was too involved with everything else to be good at swimming competitively, but it was fun.”
I nod as the smile grows on my face. The more Trevor shares with me on this trail, the more I want to know. He’s genuinely interested in learning about me too. I haven’t seen a red flag yet, and the green ones are steadily glowing more vibrant. “Why were you so involved? It sounds like you did everything.” I tap his foot with mine and smile.
“I did.” He chuckles. “Where I’m from, there’s not much to do besides get drunk in cornfields and get arrested. Staying busy kept me out of trouble long enough to get out of there. I finished high school early just to leave that place.”
“Okay, smarty-pants,” I tease. “You mentioned before that you hated growing up there. Do you go back very often?”
“Christmas is all I can handle back home. I give my family that week every year. If they want to see me more than that, I convince them to go on vacation.”
“Come on, Trev.” I place a hand on his knee, giving it a little shake. His eyes drop to our connection, and a migration of butterflies surges through me when the smallest smirk quirks the corner of his mouth. “Small towns aren’t all bad. I love this place. The city has its perks, but being able to slow down when I come home is the best.”
I pat his knee, and as I pull away, he covers my hand with his. Biting my lip, I take a breath before looking into his eyes. They’re so warm and inviting. Safe . Sitting with him is surprisingly comfortable.
“You grew up here, right?” His thumb slides across my hand, leaving a trail of tingles in its wake.
“Uh, kind of. We moved from Vegas when I started middle school, which sucked at first. Going from a diverse city to a quiet place where no one looked like me was tough. I didn’t feel like I really fit in until I met Kayla in high school. But it’s grown on me, and now it’s home.”
“I get that. What about your sister? You two had each other, yeah?”
“Mmm, not really.” I slip my hand from his, shifting uncomfortably on the log. My butt is going numb from sitting here, but I like Trevor’s company. “Willa and I didn’t get along as kids. I don’t know if it was the age difference or our personalities or what, but we weren’t close back then. We’re just now starting to understand each other.” Suddenly feeling like I’ve shared too much with the enchanting hazel eyes across from me, I drop my gaze and change the subject. “So, do you have siblings?”
“Yep. Three: Maya, Lainey, and Eli. They all love it back home in Heritage. I don’t get it, but they’re happy, so I’m happy.” Trevor stands from the log with a smile, dusting off the back of his jeans. “Welp, you ready to head back? I can’t feel my legs.”
“Yeah.” I laugh, moving back toward the trail. “I’m sure they’ll be sending out a search party soon.”
Trevor falls in step with me and bumps into my shoulder playfully. “Successful first date?” he asks.
“Mm-hmm, I’d say so. You’re full of surprises, Jack.”
“ Jack ?” He clutches his heart, and another giggle bursts out of me. “I made such a good impression, you forgot my name?”
“Jack-of-all-trades, since you do any- and everything.”
“Whatever you say, pretty lady.”
Heat creeps up my neck with his flirtatious nickname. This crush on Trevor didn’t take long at all. He’s silly, easy to talk to, and his straightforward flirting eliminates the guessing games I’m used to. I feel so giddy, and I admit, Kayla was right. It’s refreshing, being pursued for the right reasons. He’s crystal clear about his intentions, an element I think I’ve been missing up till now.
When we get back to the lodge, I’ve mostly forgotten about the awkwardness that awaits. One minute, Trevor and I are bumping into each other, laughing about his childhood obsession with chicken nuggets dipped in applesauce. And the next, we’re face-to-face with our friends around the kitchen island.
“Looks like you two had a good time.” Kayla’s eyebrows dance suggestively. Chase darts a glance at Hunter before looking back at me.
Trevor brushes his arm against mine with a sly smile before walking toward the fridge. “Yeah, you could say that.”
“Which trail did you do?” Willa asks from across the counter.
“The Horizon Trail. It was beautiful up there,” I reply.
“It sure was…” Trevor says, shooting a wink my way.
I bite my cheek to temper the timid grin sliding across my face, but it’s no use. Mashing my lips together doesn’t help either—not with the way my belly is flopping around inside. But then my gaze drifts across the island, meeting Hunter’s. We stare for a couple seconds before he drops his eyes to his phone. His face is unreadable, but all those flutters are now dead weight in my gut.
I asked for this, told him to act like nothing happened. So why do I have this creeping doubt spreading through me? Why do I feel a pang of remorse? Last night was right up Hunter’s alley. He’s good at detached intimacy—he prefers it. Plus, he’s still talking to Ava. I’m the one who doesn’t do casual flings. But when I look at whatever mask he’s slipped on his face, it’s definitely not the unbothered one I’m used to seeing.