11. A Pairing About as Bad as Hot Sauce and Genitals
11
A Pairing About as Bad as Hot Sauce and Genitals
Mac
Somehow not talking is worse than talking, which I never would’ve thought possible. We’ve been heading up this mountain in silence for close to five hours and the tension is so thick, it feels as if it could suffocate me. Either that, or it’s the hot, humid air as we work our way through the dense brush. Honestly, the only thing propelling me forward is the thought that we might be on Valdez Island. That would put an end to my time with New York right quick, which is as it should be because she and I are oil and water. There’s no sense in trying to mix because it will not work.
Arrogant. That’s the last thing I am. I can be a little too honest for some people, but I’m certainly not arrogant.
I look behind me, only to find that Paige has fallen back about fifty yards. I stop and rest a hand on my hip, breathing a little heavy while I wait for her. She wipes the sweat off her forehead with the back of her arm, then stumbles and keeps going. My resolve to ignore her melts a bit. “Am I going too fast for you?”
She glances up at me, looking both embarrassed and pissed off. “Nope. Just go ahead and I’ll catch up.”
“It’s best if we stick together.” I take off my backpack and dig out two bottles of water.
“Why?”
Handing her one of the bottles, I say, “Because if you get hurt and I’m way up the trail, I won’t know.”
She glares at me, unscrewing the cap. “Or you could get hurt, you know. You’re not Superman.”
“Never said I was, but if I got hurt, you’d arrive shortly.”
A sheepish look crosses her face. “Oh. That actually makes sense.”
I put my backpack on, then have a swig of water. “Yep. It’s just another example of me knowing it all.”
She purses her lips at me. “For someone who acts so tough, you’re surprisingly sensitive.”
Snorting out a laugh, I shake my head at her. “That’s the last thing I am, but if I were sensitive, it would be a hell of a lot better than being high-maintenance.”
She levels me with a death glare. “You were right about one thing. It’s better when we don’t talk.”
“I wasn’t trying to strike up a conversation. I was trying to see if you could keep up.”
Lifting her chin, she says, “I can keep up.”
I stare at her for a second before answering, taking in the defiance on her face that she’s using to hide how tired and scared she probably is. Feeling like a total jerk, I say, “It’s fine to admit if you need to rest for a few minutes. We’ve been hiking for nearly five hours.”
“Oh, has it been that long already? It seems like we just got started.” She steps around me, her arm brushing against mine as she passes me on the narrow path.
“Paige, seriously…” I hurry to catch up with her. “We should probably take a break.”
“What I need is a break from you, which I’m going to get as soon as I get off this godforsaken island.”
I follow her, picking up my pace to match hers. “Shit,” I mutter. Way to go, asshat. Now she’s going to overdo it and drop from exhaustion. “Okay, you made your point. You can walk fast.”
“What’s the problem?” she calls over her shoulder. “Worried you can’t keep up?”
“No, obviously not,” I answer. “But we need to be smart about this. We need to pace ourselves.”
“Yeah, you go ahead and pace yourself. Pace yourself all day long if you want. I’m getting the hell out of here.”
Reaching out, I put a hand on her shoulder to stop her. She jerks it away and turns to me, raising one finger and waggling it at me. “No, no. I’m not done walking yet.”
I give her a sheepish look, remembering when I did the same thing to her a few hours ago. “All right, you’ve made your point. It was rude when I did that to you.”
“You’re damn right it was rude,” she says, starting back up the trail. “But don’t think I’m fishing for an apology because I’m not. You’re an abrasive person, and that’s fine. I couldn’t care less. It’s not my job to fix you. We just have to survive the next few hours together, and hopefully, with any luck, we’ll be saying goodbye by supper time, never to see each other again.”
“Abrasive? I’m not abrasive,” I tell her. “You’re just not used to anyone actually being honest with you.”
Paige scoffs. “Oh, is that what you call it?”
“Yeah, because that’s the truth. I’m honest, and some of the things I’ve said have pushed buttons you don’t like to have pushed. I’ve made you ask yourself questions you don’t want to ask, which has pissed you off.”
She spins on her heel and pokes me on the chest. “You’re damn right you pissed me off. But it’s not because you’re making me question myself. It’s because you don’t have the first clue what you’re talking about, and yet, you think you know better about my life than I do. I’ve had just about all the mansplaining I can take for one lifetime, so if you don’t mind, just shut the hell up.”
She glances at my lips, then glares at me, and I can tell she doesn’t know whether she wants to slap me or kiss me. She lifts her hand to poke me again, but I grab her wrist. “Don’t.”
“What? Am I annoying you?” Her chest heaves and she straightens her back.
Lowering my face to hers, I say, “Yeah. You’re annoying me.”
Pulling her hand away from me, she says, “Good.”
Then she turns around and keeps going, leaving me more furious and turned on than I have ever been. The thoughts racing through my head are not ones that should be there, as I watch her from behind. I want to spin her around, press her up against a tree, and give her a kiss that’ll set this jungle on fire. I also want to argue with her and piss her off even more than I already have. Since neither of those options are going to get us anywhere, I say nothing and keep my damn hands to myself.
By the time we reach the top, we’re both drenched in sweat, our clothes clinging to us. I’m exhausted and impressed that she had it in her to make it this far without stopping. I’d never admit either of those things to her, but they’re both true. We stand at the top of the mountain, the bright sunlight beating down on us.
I quickly spot the island directly to our north, but don’t see any signs of the research station. Not wanting to give her the bad news just yet, I wait while she walks around holding her cell phone up to test for a signal. Finally, she lets out a sigh, her shoulders dropping. “Nothing. Are we where you thought we were?”
My heart sinks a little, but I pull my binoculars from the backpack anyway, just in case. Holding them up, I focus in on the shore and slowly sweep them from one side of the island to the other. “Nope.”
“Perfect,” she mutters. “Now what?”
I lower the binoculars and look down at her. “We come up with a new plan.”
“Awesome.”
“Hey, I told you I wasn’t sure.”
Holding up one hand to shield her eyes, she scans the horizon. “Wait? What about that island way out there? Could that be it?”
I follow her finger, then look through the binoculars again, only to see that it looks every bit as undeveloped as this one. Shaking my head, I say, “No.”
“Can I have a look?” she asks, holding her hand out for the binoculars.
“Sure,” I tell her, passing them to her and sitting down on a nearby rock to rest my legs. “Knock yourself out.”
Paige makes a slow circle, then lowers the binoculars. “Oh my God. There’s nothing here. Not one lousy boat. Not one tiny village. Nothing. Just … trees and beaches and water for miles.”
“Someone will come. Eventually.”
“How eventually?” she asks. “Like weeks from now? Months? Years?”
“It won’t be years,” I answer. “It could be months though.”
She holds the binoculars up again .
“There’s no use,” I tell her. “You’re right. There’s nothing out there.”
“I can see the plane from here.”
“Okay,” I answer, not sure why she wants to look at that.
“Remember how I wanted to take a quick peek around the corner but you said it wouldn’t be worth wasting the energy?”
“Yeah,” I answer, having no idea where she’s going with this.
She gives me the mother of all glares. “There’s a cottage there.”