13. Mia
Chapter thirteen
Mia
“I thought you said Damien said it would only take an hour,” Matt shouts down the path towards me and Will.
“I don’t think he imagined we would stop for ten minutes every five,” Will replies, snatching his hand back from where it’s resting on my back.
We are nearly three hours into our walk, and despite the awkward moment yesterday morning, Will hasn’t been able to keep his hands off me. It suits me just fine, because I haven’t been able to get him out of my head. There are dozens of signs along the trail promising short walks off the main trail to other waterfalls, and Steph convinces us we should visit all of them, insisting that the next one might be the perfect inspiration for her next illustration. All in all, I count that we have seen twenty seven waterfalls (some much less impressive than the others). Thankfully Steph’s enthusiasm has rubbed off on us. All of us except Matt it seems. Even Chloe is happy to be outside.
Will hangs back to walk next to me, and I fill him in on my meeting with Bryce last night, telling him how strange it felt when he was describing his work with Craig.
“There wasn’t anything in particular, but a few things sounded strange. It was almost as if he was trying to convince me that he should be doing the job.” I move behind Will to get through a narrow bit of the track. “It’s not like I have any say in that.”
Will stops short. “Don’t you? Have you thought about asking Damien? Tell him what Bryce told you, and see how he reacts?”
“That’s not a bad idea. It’s not like Damien would have no incentive at all to mislead me, but maybe if I get both sides, I’ll be able to figure it out.” My foot hits a slushy bit of snow and I slide. Will grabs my waist to steady me. I turn towards him, and the way he’s looking at me … A heat rushes through me. I wish I could spend more time focusing on my feelings about Will, rather than stressing about Bryce, but I can't be distracted right now.
“Careful, Limpet,” he warns, his eyebrows rising in concern.
“Thanks. I’m okay.” If anything, I’m in more danger of a slip and fall now that he's touching me, even if it is through about six layers of clothing. Will’s hand lingers on my hip. I shove the thought of him pulling me close out of my head.
Steph shouts up ahead, breaking us out of our trance. We keep walking.
“You’re right,” I say, trudging on with my head down against the wind.
“About Damien?” I nod.
“But Damien also doesn’t have any reason not to lie, if there’s something he thinks I can give him.” That is part of the problem. I could be pushed and pulled in all directions if I’m not careful.
Will squints at the rough ground, concentrating hard, his hands now shoved in his pockets.
“I wonder whether he thinks I have more sway than I actually do.”
Will pauses momentarily, staring at me. “Right. But don’t you?” he asks again.
I shake my head. “I’ve got nothing to do with the place. Why would I?”
“Why wouldn’t you?” Will’s tone is light, but insistent. I imagine him using that same voice in a more intimate setting, and am too distracted to respond before Steph shouts out at us again.
Steph is facing us, walking backward, her hands cupped around her mouth. “Hey, slowpokes. Another waterfall up here! I’ve got a good feeling about this one.”
As we follow the others down the track to yet another waterfall, I think about what Will had said. Maybe I should have some say in what’s happening with the resorts right now. Do I have a say, just by virtue of my shareholding and family ties? I do own a large chunk of the resorts.
“I can’t figure it out. Everything Bryce is saying on the surface isn’t bad. Like, the resorts making more money—well, this is a business, after all.”
“But you’re worried there’s more to it?” Will prompts. I can hear the rushing of the waterfall now.
“It seems a bit off that the second Craig isn’t running the place, he stepped in. And when I saw Damien earlier, he seemed annoyed that Bryce was around. I don’t blame him, Bryce is uptight. Then again, it's not like I know Damien, either,” I muse out loud.
When Craig comes back, will he be disappointed if I don’t step in and make sure Bryce is doing the right thing?
“I think you should talk to Damien about it. Getting the other side of the story will help.” Will’s voice is firm. I wish I was half as certain about things as he manages to be. He always knows what the right thing to do is, even if I don’t always listen the first time. “At least then you’ll have both sides of the story. It might help you decide what’s the truth is?”
I stay quiet. I’m nervous about getting involved. I shrug.
“What are you worried about? What’s the worst that could happen?” Will prompts.
“I just…I’m worried about getting too involved with the resorts. What will people think?”
“People? Or your parents?” Will guesses correctly. “You’ve always been worried about that, Limpet. Maybe you just need to trust that they’ll still love you.” His voice is gentle. We’ve talked about this before. I like to think I am very secure in my relationship with my parents, but deep down, we both know that isn’t the whole truth. That there’s a little worry in me that I very rarely voice, that they won’t always be as accepting as they have been so far.
Maybe he’s right. Maybe this is a way I can forge a link with my birth family. And my parents can’t be too upset with that, can they?
“This is so beautiful,” Steph says as we finally catch up. “I’m so glad you invited us here, Mia. Even if I disapprove of you paying for it.”
“It’s been better than I expected, I’ll give you that,” Chloe says.
Given how reluctant she was to come, her approval means the most to me right now. She’s been quiet during our trip, I guess because she wasn’t keen to come in the first place, but it makes me feel like she might have a problem with me personally. I want to talk to her about it, but between the resorts, and my distraction about my feelings about Will, I haven’t yet. I’ve been obsessing over every time I think he’s looking at me, weighing up every brush of his hand against mine. And of course, I have been stressing about Bryce since meeting him, so I haven’t been able to think about what is going on for Chloe as much as I’d like. She’s always been a little sharp around the edges, and I know she’ll always tell it like it is, so for her to not be saying she has a problem means something. I just wish I knew what.
“I imagined it would be full of, like, old rich people, but Steph was chatting with one of the guys in the van on the way back from town the other night. He apparently thinks it’s more affordable to stay here than some places in town, if you factor in the trips up the mountain,” Chloe says. Steph nods in confirmation. I’m not surprised Steph found someone to chat to; that woman could make new friends at an introvert’s convention.
I look around at my friends. “I wouldn’t have come by myself. You’re doing me a favor. Also, don’t you think we all deserved a holiday?” And if they hadn’t come, I wouldn’t have seen there was something going on with Bryce. I’m not sure whether I’m grateful for that or not yet, because so far, it's only me finding it stressful. But maybe one day I’ll be grateful I found out.
By evening, I swear there’s something there between Will and me. The little looks, lingering touches; I can’t tell whether it's just me, but things feel heavy between us. A little voice in the back of my head suggests ‘ or are you just horny? ’ It’s true. Seeing Will on full display (or, partial display, the horny part of me hopes) yesterday morning has short-circuited my brain.
I’ve run out of energy to resist. I rest my head against the adjoining door between our rooms. I’ve been hovering for an embarrassingly long time. Did I misinterpret the looks, those touches? And that thought paralyzes me. I take a deep breath. Shit or get off the pot, Davis .
Before I can change my mind, I turn the handle and step into Will’s room.
The handle turns easily. Relief floods through me. Either of us could have locked the door, shutting off an opportunity like this. But we didn't. Will is lying on the bed in his unlit room, wearing only low-slung sweatpants, face illuminated by the light of his phone. He stares at me, momentarily frozen.
“Mia.” His throat bobs as he swallows hard. “Hi.”
“Hi,” I breathe. Without giving myself time to think, I stride toward him. Before I have time to worry about what to do when I get to him, he’s up, moving toward me with just as much intensity as I had for him. We crash together, a panic of hands and mouths, pressed against each other.
When we finally come up for air, I realize the video Will had been watching when I came in is still playing from his phone, now abandoned on the bed. The volume is low, but the light that is emitting from his phone softly illuminates the room.
“Sorry,” he says, panting.
“I’m sorry.” I still have the waistband of his sweatpants clenched in my fist. Who am I kidding? “No, I’m not. I came in hoping for this. For you.”
I let him go and take a minuscule step back, my stomach churning. The thick rug cushions my step as I sink into the pile. I don’t want to move away from him, but I want to give him the opportunity to opt out. I want him to choose this in the same way I am. I want it to be his decision, even if a rejection will cut me to the core.
Will’s face crumples in worry, his warm amber eyes almost glowing in the light. I hold his gaze, hoping he understands what I want, even when I’m not ready to admit how much I desperately want this. Will nods, so subtly I almost miss it. But there is no way I can miss the step he takes toward me, or his body pressing itself against mine. The heat of him hits me like a wave, enveloping me.
He kisses down my neck, teasing tiny moans of desire out of me. I cling to him, knowing there isn’t much closer we can get without becoming one.
“You’re so fucking perfect, Limpet. You have no idea how long I’ve wanted you.” Another tiny moan escapes me. He knows exactly what I need to hear.
I run my hands down his chest, finding the band of his sweatpants and snaking my hand under to find his warm skin. His toned stomach begs for my lips. I start to drop to my knees, but Will slides his hand under my chin, forcing me to look up at him.
“Kiss me.” I don’t need to be told twice.
Eventually, the same instinct in us that kept us in sync makes us pause, and to step back from each other.
“I should go,” I say, touching my hand to my lips. They’re raw. I’m shocked at myself. I’m not impulsive like this. Not normally. Normally, I’d obsess about making a move like this for hours, not minutes. With Will though, my moments of impulsivity feel safe.
Will nods, squeezing my hand then he releases me. “Okay,” he says, softly. “I’m glad you came, Mia.” His voice is tinged with hope.
I get straight into bed, closing my eyes to try to block out any external stimulation while I try to process what I just did. My boldness is new. Is this pent-up desire from seeing him naked the other day? I haven’t taken matters into my own hands since. But it can’t have been just that. My want for him is more than simply physical. Every time I see him watching me from across the room, or when he offers a supportive hand, my resolve melts. I let out a huff.
I need to get a handle on myself. There is too much going on in my life right now. Work is busy, and I know the short week next week is going to be even busier. I have a brand-new brother laying in a hospital five hundred miles from my house, and I’ve never even had a conversation with him. I’ve got a new fortune, and right now I need to make good decisions in all aspects of my life. Even if they aren’t the decisions my heart wants to be making right now.