Chapter 27 #2
“Babe, back me up here.” He taps my bicep, but I’m still caught up on the word babe. “Tell Ada that I’m right, and yellow is so much better.”
“Well, what about rainbow sparkles?” I get a toothy grin from Ada and a glare from Jett. “Or iridescent, the ones that change when you move them.”
“Fairy sparkles,” she cheers.
A tug on my top pulls my attention. “Traitor,” Jett mutters.
The sun sets, the magnificent swirls of orange and pink disappearing behind the trees, dusty purple deepening into a dark night sky twinkling with stars as we reach our final destination—the side of the fucking road.
“Here we—oh, shit.”
I’m launched into the air and slammed into the seat in front of me when Pete doesn’t put the car fully in park. Jett curses beneath his breath, a string of swear words aimed at our guide.
“Are you hurt?” he asks, his hands roaming my body.
The children laugh and clap, and I rub the side of my head, defusing the pain.
“One-star review,” I grumble before adding, “I’m fine. A bit startled is all.”
An “Oops” is the only apology we get before we’re ushered from the car and handed bright-orange safety sashes and headlamps. I search for the start of a trailhead or a boardwalk, but there’s nothing but a quiet road surrounded by forest.
“Right-o, let’s check out some nocturnal creatures,” our guide says, leading us in a single-file row down the side of the road. “If you see a car, step to the side and keep your vest visible.”
He aims an ultra-strong light into the tree canopy, scanning branches and patches of leaves for any sighting of a tree kangaroo, possum, or flying fox. Jett’s palms are hot on my shoulders, keeping me steady and offering the illusion that I lead a conga line.
Mia and Ella zip in front of me, cutting me off as leaves rustle to our left high in the treetops. The group pauses, and our guide checks it out but shakes his head.
“No tree kangaroo yet.”
A few disappointed sighs and a groan from Lynn, and we’re moving again.
Finally, after what seems like ages walking deeper into the darkness, a “yippee” is cheered, and the gaggle of small girls snickers as they hold their binoculars to the sky.
I lift mine, attempting to find what everyone else sees, and between the leaves of a eucalyptus tree, partially masked by clusters of leaves, sits a plump, fluffy burnt-orange tree kangaroo.
Its long tail hangs from the branch it lounges on, and its eyes glow from the bright light. The laser beam tags it for other people in our group to spot it among the trees, and it shifts deeper into the forest, not a fan of the light.
Shocker.
A shadow flashes across the night sky, then another, and flying foxes—insanely large bats—dip through the air, and Tanner tries to chase them with his camera.
“What could he possibly be recording?” I hiss, keeping my voice low as we trail the rest of the group. “It’s pitch black out, and he’s whipping that GoPro around like he’s filming an action movie.”
The headlamp on Jett’s forehead shakes with the force of his laughter, and he doubles over, holding his knees while Cecil aims his flashlight and camera at the trees.
“Do not aim your lights at the creatures,” our guide chastises. “It’s not good for the animals.”
“Is he fucking serious? He was pointing an intense light at them and then using a laser pointer. What a hypocrite.” My headlamp reflects off Jett’s safety sash. “I want a refund.”
“You didn’t pay for this.”
“Okay, well, I want you to get a refund for this.”
“Are you having a good time?” he asks, invading my space and tugging on a strand of hair falling out of my braid.
He does that a lot—the small, subtle touches that don’t lead to anything more. No ulterior motive or a starting point to get something going. It’s like he wants to touch me simply because he can.
I like it far more than I should.
“It’s entertaining.”
He chose a colorful activity for our last night. And as wacky as it’s been…the reason I’m having a good time is because of him.
“This is a pretty great finale to a wonderful trip,” he says. “You pulled it off. You should be pretty proud of yourself. I am.”
The darkness hides the blush marring my cheeks, but his compliment warms me like a straight shot of mezcal, a blossom of heat to the heart and then right to the head. He dips his chin to press his lips against mine, the kiss barely there before it’s gone.
Reality rears its ugly head when the guide barrels right past us and back to the van, pointing out a few possums before we’re corralled into our seats. Jett reaches out, and I slide my palm beneath my thigh.
Earlier, I caved. My wants outweighed logic, and I permitted the touch.
Allowing him to hold my hand again will only churn up more emotions, muddying the water until there’s only my reflection staring back, a picture of despair.
I need to think, to write down my thoughts into neat bullet points, to decide whether I can give this all up—to pretend this time meant nothing to me.
Jett recovers well, nothing more than a side glance, slipping his hand into his pocket. His cool response doesn’t soothe the ache in my sternum.
“Are you ready to go home?” he asks. “Back to LA?”
The question holds more weight than I can carry.
“I don’t know,” I answer honestly.
It’s all I can offer him.