Page 24 of California Sunshine

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Day 15:

Big Bear Lake

2,384 Miles To Go

Belle

After a long look at myself in the hotel mirror, I let out an equally long sigh. I’m in my bikini, the T-shirt I pulled out of my bag for tonight sitting on the counter next to my pants. But it’s not my reflection that’s troubling me. I’ve lost a couple of pounds and gained some definition in my legs and core. No, my body isn’t the issue.

Rather, my brain and heart are engaged in a tug-of-war, making me jittery and nervous as hell. Since I arrived in Big Bear, I’ve been aggravated by Grinder, exhilarated by Nova, and everything in between thanks to social media. And in a few brief hours, Nova and I have . . . a date? Is it a date? The kiss we shared, the one still making my lips tingle, makes it seem like that’s what we’re doing tonight. “Ugh!” I exclaim, getting nowhere other than more confused.

I need help.

Reaching for my phone. I clear the many notifications waiting for me and hit the camera icon. I’ve never understood the whole mirror-selfie bit, but what the heck. “This trip is all about new experiences, right?” I tell myself as I snap a pic, put it into a message, and press send. The response is almost immediate. I smile at Rachel’s profile picture on my screen as I hit the answer button. “Hey, Rach.”

“Damn, girl,” she exclaims. “The trail looks good on you.”

“Pretty sure it’s the bikini.”

Rachel chuckles on her end. “You have learned much, pada . . . what is it?”

When I wasn’t studying for finals, I binge watched Star Wars: The Clone Wars during the last month of preparations. I’m pretty certain what she means. “Padawan. But points for trying.” We share a joyful laugh before the line goes quiet for a pleasant moment.

“So what’s up, Lizzy? I’m surprised you aren’t out hanging with your guys?”

I can sense her wink, just like she can sense me rolling my eyes at her comment. “My guys? Seriously?”

“Hell, yes. I see all the pictures you take when they upload to the cloud. I know I told you to have some fun, but damn, girl. You swung for the fences and got lucky.”

I groan. Yes, I’m lucky to have hooked up with these guys for the trip. Nova is easy to be around, Bats is easy to talk to, and Grinder . . . Well, he’s easy to ignore. Sometimes. Although, I have to admit, it’s been a little easier to be around him. When we stopped to get pictures of Paleozoic quartzite this morning, he had a non-snide comment about it. Granted, it was “Looks like the tile in my mom’s bathroom,” but it was better than “We’re stopping again?” I guess that’s progress, right?

“So give me the juicy bits,” Rachel pleads. “Are you hooking up with any of them? Mr. Grouchy looks like the angry sex type. Am I right?”

“Oh my god. Grinder?”

“Ah. That’s the asshole, right?”

“Yes. And no, I’m not hooking up with Grinder. Or any of them.” I pause. “Although . . .”

That piques Rachel’s interest. “Ooh . . . that sounds loaded. Spill.”

I sigh. “Nova wants to go for dinner and drinks at a nearby tavern. They’re holding an event for thru-hikers.”

“Which one is he?”

“The blonde.”

“Mmm . . . Yummy. You said yes, right? Pleeeeease tell me you said yes.”

“I did,” I admit, my voice full of hesitancy.

“Uh, huh. You don’t sound excited about it. What’s wrong?”

I bite my lip, weighing how much I want to admit. “Nothing. It’s stupid.”

“Lizzy . . .” She lets it hang there like a mom asking her kid if they ate all of their carrots or not.

“It’s just . . .” My gaze catches the T-shirt next to me. “I don’t have anything for a date, you know. Just my Geology Rocks shirt.”

There’s a long pause, followed by a longer sigh. “Liz. Honey. You’ve been backpacking with the guy for two weeks. I’m sure he’s seen you in that shirt a half dozen times already since you only have, what, three shirts, a flannel, and a sweatshirt? So I’ll ask again. What. Is. Wrong?”

I plop my ass down on the toilet next to me and take a deep breath, hoping I can say what’s bugging me without getting as angry as I have been all afternoon. “I saw my feed today,” I say, a lot quieter than I need to do since I’m the only one in the room. The guys have their own room a few doors down.

“Oh,” Rachel responds, the bits clicking into place. She huffs, then tells me, “Fuck him. I’ve blocked his account. Good riddance to that piece of shit. Right? You deserve happiness, Liz. Like, five foot ten inches of blond surfer boy happiness.”

I snicker. “Yeah, something like that,” I say, a little strength returning to my voice.

“Come on, Lizzy. Feel it for me. Let me hear a good ‘Fuck, yes!’”

I shake my head, but I’m smiling. “Fuck, yes.”

“Bah. That was horrible,” Rachel exclaims. “Not even worth a hug and an ‘I’ll call you later.’ Let me hear some conviction in that. Scream it like you want your hot surfer buried deep inside you tonight.”

I stifle a laugh, then tilt my head back and loudly proclaim, “Fuck, yes!”

Rachel and I both burst into laughter, and it’s the best feeling . . . no, scratch that . . . the second best feeling I’ve had all day. Maybe by the end of the night, it’ll only be the third best.

“Okay, Padawan. Listen up,” Rachel says. “Here’s what I want you to do . . .”

***

There’s a knock at my door. I take a deep breath, smoothing my hands down the front of my new blouse as I approach. My fingers brush against something and I pause, spotting a sticker I had missed right across my boob. A quick curse escapes me as I peel it off and toss it onto the TV stand next to me. I continue toward the door, telling myself as it looms closer, “You can do this, Lizzy. No pressure. It’s just dinner, a couple of drinks, and three kisses. No big deal.”

I pause, taking one last look in the full-length mirror by the door. I haven’t been on a date since . . . Nope. Not going there tonight. I make a snap decision Rachel will be proud of, and unbutton the top of my blouse, allowing a bit of cleavage to show. It’s time to get that asshat out of my head. And there isn’t a better person to help me than Nova. I give myself a wink and a smile. “Fuck, yes,” I tell myself, then reach for the doorknob.

Nova is standing on the other side, nervously running a hand through his golden locks. Hmm, maybe I took longer to answer the door than I realized. His sapphire eyes snap up as the door opens, and any traces of nervousness disappear. His gaze turns heated as he takes me in. Ever the gentleman, his eyes meet mine before anything else, but it doesn’t take long for him to take in the rest of me. If it had been some random guy staring at me like that, I’d tell him to fuck off. But when Nova looks at me like that, my skin tingles and there’s a heat building inside of me. “Belle, you look . . . Wow.”

A smile creeps across my face. Rachel had coaxed me into heading out to a nearby store, where I had found a light blue blouse that brought out my eyes. After my shopping trip, I spent some time brushing my hair to silken soft, letting it fall loose behind me. With a bit of lipstick and a sample of perfume from the store, I was ready to make a damn good case for staying in and taking it all off. But Nova and I had research to conduct first. Damn scientific curiosity had me anticipating those three kisses he owed me, and fantasizing about how he planned to use them.

“Thanks,” I say, with a laugh and a smile. I grab my jacket from the chair near the door and step out into the hallway, closing the door behind me.

When I turn around, Nova draws closer, his eyes half lidded as he places his hands on my hips and pulls me close. His mouth crashes into mine, igniting that fire in my core, which grows hotter as our kiss grows deeper. My hands reach around his neck, pulling him as close as they can, while my fingers thread through his hair. I don’t know if we stay like that for a few seconds or a few minutes, but when he pulls back, it leaves me breathless in all the best ways.

Nova hums appreciatively as he pulls back. “So . . . that’s, um, one, right?”

“Mm-hmm” is all the sound I get out as I suck in my lower lip, his taste still lingering there.

“We should . . . um . . . get going,” he suggests, his eyes darting between my panting mouth and my heaving breasts.

“Definitely,” I agree, not capable of saying much else.

We turn and head down the hallway, a slight distance between us as we both catch our breath. He reaches tentatively toward me. I take his offered hand as we reach the elevator, linking our fingers together. It might not be how I want him to touch me, but it may be the only way he can if we’re going to reach three kisses with our clothes still on.

An hour ago, the decisions I had to make about tonight and the next five months left me jittery. As we step into the elevator, smiling like goofy high schoolers, those decisions seem a hell of a lot easier to make.

***


Tags: Chris Mor Thriller