Chapter 33
Chapter Thirty-Three
TALLY
That afternoon, I vanish. I can't bear another minute with Cameron's eyes following me everywhere. Breakfast had been torture—every time I glanced up, those blue eyes were watching me, stripping me bare across the dining table. I latch onto Celeste like a lifeline. Besides Cam, she’s my only familiar face here, and I shadow her movements with desperate determination.
After the dishes are cleared, I practically drag her outside.
"Let's explore the woods," I suggest, needing pine-scented air to clear my head.
What was the point of a mountain retreat if you stayed cooped up indoors?
I hand Brinley to Cam with a clipped "We'll be back later" and escape before he can protest. The last thing I need is what his hungry gaze promises—sneaking away until dinner to finish what we started last night and this morning.
I could read the invitation in every look he gave me.
But I wouldn't give in. Last night was already one mistake too many.
Celeste and I walk into the woods, the cool mountain air filling my lungs.
I try to focus on getting away—the pine smell that makes me forget the city, birds calling out, maybe even animals watching us from the trees.
I press my nails into my hand. This weekend was never about Cameron and me breaking our no-sex rule just because we're not at home. And Cameron has no right—none at all—to push me into thinking this trip changes things between us. I hate that my body still wants him when he looks at me. That’s bad enough.
What’s worse is that my heart still wants him.
My soul. So, yeah, I need to get away from all of those feelings pronto.
Celeste stops and does a slow three-sixty. "Please tell me you memorized our route," she says, squinting at the towering pines surrounding us. "Because my phone's got zero bars out here."
I freeze mid-step. Half a mile from the house, surrounded by trees that smell oddly like vanilla extract, and not a single trail marker in sight.
All because I couldn't stand another minute under Cameron's gaze, those eyes tracking my every move.
No compass. No water. Nothing. Watch us end up as some nature documentary footnote—two idiots who wandered off and got scavenged by black bears after we collapsed from exposure.
Bears don't even hunt humans, they just clean up what's left.
And speaking of bears…I freeze mid-sentence when I spot a black bear clinging to a nearby tree trunk, his dark eyes fixed on us.
My lips curve into a smile. Unlike their grizzly cousins, black bears rarely pose a threat—they're the introverts of the bear world. And, really, grizzlies don’t pose much a threat, either, despite that infamous case of two grizzlies killing campers in one night in the 1970s, an incident so rare that it inspired a book and a TV special.
In general, all bears leave people alone.
"What's with the grin?" Celeste asks, following my gaze.
"Bear," I whisper, nodding toward the tree.
Celeste's eyes widen. "Jesus! Don't. Move."
"Relax," I say, keeping my voice low. "He's just curious. Even if it's a mama with cubs nearby, she'd just huff a warning. They're not the monsters people think they are."
Something about this unexpected encounter pulls me away from thoughts of Cameron.
Out here, with distance between us, I can finally admit the truth to myself: I want him as fiercely as he wants me.
Last night when he whispered about love and marriage between kisses, my heart raced—and not from fear.
Marriage terrifies me? Absolutely. But standing here in the woods, I'm grateful for the space to realize how much I already miss him.
Celeste grabs my arm, her nails digging into my skin. "Tal. Tell me you know how to get back."
I shake her off. "I don't. But we find a stream, we follow it downstream, we find civilization. Simple." I lock eyes with her. "This isn't some horror movie where one of us ends up as wolf food while the other crawls out of the wilderness half-dead, drinking their own piss to survive."
"Wolves?" Celeste's voice jumps an octave, her face draining of color. "There are actual wolves out here?"
"Christ, Celeste!" I snap, whirling around.
"Yes! Wolves with razor teeth and glowing eyes that hunt screenwriters specifically!
" I push aside a branch that whips back, nearly hitting her.
"Lucky for you, all those damn movies you mainline for 'work' have prepared you perfectly for this exact scenario. "
“Tally-”
I shake my head. "Those predator attack movies like The Grey and Frozen - the stuck ski lift movie, not the Elsa and Anna movie - get it all wrong.
Wolves avoid humans whenever possible, just like bears do.
Wolf conservation groups despise that kind of fearmongering—it just leads to more hunting.
" I can't help but roll my eyes. "Even Great Whites, despite what Jaws would have you believe, typically steer clear of people. "
Celeste lifts her chin. "I'm well aware of shark behavior, thank you very much.
When Max and I started surfing together, he prepared me for Great White sightings.
My first encounter? Total panic attack. Max couldn't stop laughing.
These days?" She shrugs with casual confidence. "I barely notice them anymore."
I nod. "Bears and wolves tend to avoid humans. Mountain lions, though..." I pause dramatically, watching Celeste's eyes widen before I crack a smile. "They usually keep their distance too."
Celeste scans the trees nervously. "Where did you learn all this wildlife stuff?"
"Just something I've always loved." A flock of wild turkeys crosses our path, their iridescent feathers catching the light.
"One of my foster families had this remote cabin.
I'd disappear for hours with my sketchbook.
After a few close encounters, I figured I'd better understand what makes animals tick—or attack.
Turns out, most just want you to respect their space. "
I shoot Celeste a look, and she gets it. I've hiked plenty of trails before. I never got lost then, and I won't now. Even when I'm not paying attention, my brain catalogs every fallen log and distinctive tree.
"You're sure you can get us back?" Celeste's voice pitches higher, doubt written all over her face.
"Trust me, Celeste."
We reach a stream, and I peel off my boots and socks, sighing as the cool water rushes over my feet.
Perfect. This hike is exactly the reset I needed before heading back to face Cameron.
I need to set boundaries—last night was a mistake, not a standing invitation.
He needs to focus on Willow and stop fantasizing about something that's never happening again.
Celeste glances at her watch, but kicks off her shoes and peels away her socks anyway. We settle side by side on the stream bank, letting the current wash over our bare feet.
I spot movement in the shallows and point, grinning. Tadpoles. “See those? When I was a kid, I'd scoop up tadpoles in jars and watch them at home. I was obsessed with catching that moment—you know, when the tail shrinks away and those tiny legs push through."
Celeste's laugh rings out, the tension visibly melting from her shoulders. She's finally forgetting about being lost. "I tried that too! Mine always ended up belly-up before anything interesting happened."
"Tap water," I say with a knowing nod. "It's like poison to them compared to this.
" I swirl my toes through the clear stream.
"I only had one survivor that went the distance.
Watching those legs sprout and that tail disappear—like witnessing magic.
After that, I retired from my tadpole-snatching career. Mission accomplished."
We sit, side by side, watching the tadpoles dart around like tiny black bullets. I'm transfixed, heart hammering against my ribs.
"You know," I say, my voice barely audible over the roaring in my ears, "I wonder if I could rip myself apart and rebuild completely.
Like these tadpoles—they dissolve their own bodies from the inside out to become something else entirely.
" Thunder growls in the distance. The air crackles with electricity, raising the hair on my arms. Two PM.
Storm coming. We need to go, but I can't move.
"What do you mean?" Celeste's eyes burn into me.
"Just—" My throat constricts. "Some creatures destroy themselves to evolve. What if I could tear down everything I am?" My fingers dig into my thighs. "Become someone who doesn't hyperventilate at the thought of forever with Cameron."
Celeste grips my shoulder, her nails leaving half-moons. "That's what you really want, isn't it?"
"God, yes." The words rip from me. "I'm desperate to be the woman who deserves him on his knee. Who can wake up to that face for fifty years without running. Who can love him back with the same fucking intensity that he loves me. Who can say the words ‘I love you’ back to him when he says it to me.”
"Cameron says he loves you?"
My skin flushes hot, then cold. Last night floods back—his words branded against my neck, my back arched, both of us slick with sweat, trembling.
"Yeah," I whisper. "But..." Christ. I almost told her how he'd confessed his love between our fourth and fifth time, his voice breaking as he pushed inside me again.
“Never mind.” I sniff the air and it smells like rain.
“But?” She elbows me. “Go on, Tally.”
I shake my head. “Nothing. Forget I said anything.” Then I shoot her a look that she knows means to back off, which sucks for her, because I HATE it when somebody starts to say something and then doesn’t finish. But I’m not telling her about last night.
“Tally-”
“Let’s get back before it rains.”