Chapter 7
Jett
"This is really beautiful," I say, taking in the soft, undulating hills around us. "So different from hiking in LA."
"Yeah, you can actually breathe," Wilkin quips.
Reeve smiles, and to my horror, so do I.
We set off two hours ago. I'm walking beside Reeve, and Wilkin is a few paces back. As usual, Reeve has been the one doing most of the talking, pointing out a few things of interest, but mainly it's been quiet.
It's nice being outside. Wilkin and I have spent most of our time here holed up in our rooms. I don't know what his rationale was, but I've been doing my best to avoid bumping into him.
I was kind of hoping he'd change his mind and wouldn't come hiking, but when his face lit up when the stuff we'd ordered online arrived yesterday evening, I knew I wouldn't be that lucky.
Despite the beautiful scenery and warm summer air, I'm on edge.
Not because of what we saw back home, which I'm doing an okay job of not thinking about too much, but because of being forced to be in such close proximity to Wilkin.
I avoid him like the plague at work, but here?
I don't have a choice. Just knowing only a wall separates us makes him feel way too close.
I suppose I could have not come along, but then that would have given Wilkin a chance to spend a few days with Reeve…and I am way too petty to allow that to happen.
"So, tell me more about your adventuring," I say to him. "Are you like Bear Grylls or something?"
"I'm nowhere near as commercial as he is," Reeve says, curling his nose in disgust. "And for the record, I've never drunk my own piss."
I grin. "Good to know."
Wilkin catches up to us. "What exactly do you do then?" he asks. "I don't know a whole heap about adventuring."
"I just check out places that look fun."
"Define fun," Wilkin presses.
"Places that aren't touristy for starters. If I'm seeing it on Instagram, I don't want to go there. It'll be overrun with people. I prefer visiting areas that fly under the radar. Maybe they're hard to get to. Maybe they're dangerous. As long as they're beautiful and remote, sign me up."
"Where does that approach come from, do you think?" Wilkin asks.
"To live an interesting life you have to do interesting things," Reeve replies. "That's what Grandpa used to say. It's not much more complicated than that."
Wilkin smiles, and it's the other kind of smile. Not the smug one he uses on me but the warm, genuine smile reserved for everyone else.
"Is the rest of your family as adventurous as you, or are you the outlier?" I ask.
"Outlier all the way." Reeve reaches around for his water bottle clipped to his backpack.
He takes a few swigs, secures the lid, then reattaches it.
"I'm adopted. My two brothers and my sister are all very corporate-minded.
Hugely successful but also hugely ego-driven.
It's all about status and money and how things look to everyone else.
I was never good at school. I'd get bored and restless.
Never did my homework either. Preferred to read Robinson Crusoe or watch travel videos on YouTube. Twenty-some years later, here I am."
"How old are you? If you don't mind me asking?" Mr. Perfect asks.
"Thirty-four. You guys?"
"I'm twenty-six. Wilkin's much older."
"I'm twenty-seven," he grits out.
"The lines on your forehead suggest otherwise."
He rolls his eyes. I smile victoriously. Reeve watches us without saying anything. Smart. He got burned when he tried digging for info when we were in the pool, didn't he? Not my proudest moment.
I'm surprised he hasn't packed up and chosen to stay with his grandmother to get away from us. I wouldn't blame him one bit if he did. And yet, this multi-day outing was his idea. Does that mean he actually wants to spend time with us?
Maybe he's not just crazy hot… Maybe he's just crazy.