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“Uh, yeah, you are. You let me set you up with an account for my social media class,” Rachel explains, like I should know all this. “I have to help manage and grow a client’s social media presence as part of the class. You agreed to be my client, remember. I’ve got you set up @Hiking_Belle. You’ve got a hundred followers so far, and it’s only the first day I put up fliers. I’m thinking of getting the hiking club to help too. They’re half of your followers, anyway.”

The whole thing sort of sounds familiar. The last few weeks have been an absolute blur between finals and getting ready, but it sounds like something I would have agreed to. Anything to help Rachel. “What am I supposed to be posting? I’m in the middle of nowhere most nights.”

“Don’t worry, girl. When I get your coordinates each night, I look them up, find a stock picture of the area, and maybe a fun fact. People are eating it up. I’ll text you the log-in so you can post some pics some time. Otherwise, I’ve got you covered.”

I shake my head. Only Rachel would have thought of that. Still, it sounds like an account I would want to follow, if I used Instagram that is.

Glancing at my phone, I notice I’ve been out here for almost fifteen minutes. “Shit. Rach, I’ve got to wrap this up. My food should be at the table any minute, and Grinder’s going to be unbearable if we hold him up any longer.”

“No worries,” Rachel responds. “It was good to hear your voice, Liz. Be careful out there, and have some fun.”

I hang up and turn to head back inside with a smile on my face. No matter whatever else is going on, I can’t help smiling when I talk to Rachel. She radiates fun, even over the phone. It kind of reminds me of Nova. I can’t help but smile around him either.

Except the way back into the restaurant is blocked by Grinder, who’s glaring at me from a few feet away. “Fuck, Grinder. What the hell are you doing out here?”

“Food’s here,” he grunts. “I’d love to wait for you all day, but some of us have to get back to the trail.”

“Screw you,” I tell him, moving around him. A strong hand grasps my arm and halts me. “What the hell?”

“Why are you here?” he asks without bothering to look at me.

“Excuse me?”

He huffs as he looks down at me. His brown eyes drill into me with a heavy dose of irritation. Under different circumstances, I might take a moment to compare them to the color of espresso, warm and inviting. I would consider drinking them in, savoring them. But then he opens his mouth to speak again.

“I would have thought that was an easy enough question for someone in a science program to figure out. Allow me to spell it out for you. Me and the guys, we’re here to hike the PCT. It’s what the three of us do. It’s easiest that way. You? You’re a distraction. A hindrance. So I’ll ask again, why are you here? Because if you’re tagging along to be Casanova’s latest piece of ass, I suggest a quickie in the restroom.”

My hand flies of its own accord, smacking Grinder’s face. “Fuck you, Grinder! Now let. Me. Go.”

His grip loosens a bit as he continues to stare into my eyes, like he’s searching for the answer I won’t give him. Good. I hope he sees the fury in them. Except the longer we stand there staring at each other, the more I wonder if it’s something other than fury feeding the fire in my chest . . . or his? No, that can’t be right. My inner gawky science girl must be misreading things again.

“Get inside and eat, Belle,” Grinder tells me with a growl, then releases me to storm off toward the door.

After he leaves, I take a moment to compose myself. Then I’m asking myself the same question as Grinder did. Why am I with these guys? I didn’t come here to hook up with anybody. I don’t have to be with these three guys. I can do this trail all on my fucking own.

The photo of the four of us standing in front of Eagle Rock comes to mind again. Me and three guys whose company I find myself enjoying more and more, making it harder to want to leave. I shake my head, even more confused as to why I don’t let them go, but more importantly, wondering why I feel drawn to staying with them?

***

I eat in relative quiet as Grinder’s words and my own confusing thoughts muddle together inside my brain. I distract myself by downloading Instagram and using the log-in that Rachel sent me a few minutes after our call. Sure enough, there are a hundred and twenty-three followers, and they’re all cheering me on. I oblige Rachel by posting a few photos from my camera roll.

Nova—or is it Casanova?—keeps to his word, trading me a slice of pizza for some fries. Between the burger and slice of pizza, I’m pretty satisfied, even if my head is far from it.

I trail behind them on the way to the post office, and it doesn’t take long for Nova to notice. He stops at the corner of the building to wait for me. “You okay?” he asks with concern.

Sighing, I tell him, “It’s nothing. We should get inside and get our boxes. Don’t want to keep Grinder waiting.”

He nods, but looks unconvinced. “Grinder was gone longer than it takes to tell someone their food is ready. Did he say something else to you?”

I open my mouth to answer, but nothing comes out. Too many thoughts are buzzing around my head to pull a single one out and verbalize it.

“Fuck. What did he say?” Nova asks with a tone of concern. I can tell he wants to know, but he doesn’t demand it. He seems willing to wait for me to be ready to respond. Is that the reaction of the kind of player Grinder seems to be claiming him to be?

“He wanted to know why I was here, hanging around you guys. Or rather, why I was distracting you. He suggested I was your next piece of ass . . . Casanova. I thought you got your name from the science show? Were you lying to me? Because I’ve got to say, that’s a hard stop for me.”

Nova tenses up, shuffling uneasily, but returns my gaze. “They did name me for the show. But, I guess I kind of have a reputation on the trail. Or at least, that’s what Grinder would say. My trail name kind of shifted a bit when we got into college. But I didn’t lie to you. I wouldn’t. Promise. I love that show. Still do. My DVR is going to be full of repeats by the time I get home.”

I take a moment to let his answer sink in. “So you’re not some smooth-talking lover boy?”

A sheepish grin crosses Nova’s face as the tension in his shoulders drops. “What do you think?” he asks. I snicker in reply. “And no, I don’t see you as my next piece of ass. I mean, not that I’m not interested. I am. I just . . . shit.”

I nudge him and grin. “Definitely not smooth.”

He grins back at me. “No. I guess not. My reputation and intentions aside, the bigger question is, will you stay?”

Will I stay? That’s a loaded question. Will I stay with the guys? Will I stay with him? Or will I stay here in Warner Springs and wait for the next group heading north? At the moment, I don’t know. This trip is taking a drastic turn I don’t know if I’m ready for yet.

Nova leans closer, saying softly, “Hey, I’m not asking for anything more than the chance to hang out with an incredible woman. I know you came here to do the trail alone. And I’m sure when or even if you’re ready, you’ll tell me why. But you don’t have to do it alone. I know when we’re done and standing in British Columbia, I may never get to see you again. Or maybe we’ll swap phone numbers and text from time to time. I don’t know. In the meantime, I’d like the chance to spend some time getting to know you.”

Ugh. My resolve is weakening beneath the sincerity of his words. “I don’t mind being alone,” I tell him. Or maybe I’m reminding myself? “My dad manages a supermarket, and my mom’s a nurse. I spent a lot of time in high school being alone. In college, it was Rachel and me, so I had plenty of time to be alone then too. Besides, I don’t want to be a hindrance. You three like doing things your way. I don’t want to get in the way.”

Nova reaches out and takes my hand. I don’t pull away, because to be honest, his hand holding mine feels nice. Almost like it’s supposed to be there. “Maybe we don’t need to do it our way,” he says, giving my hand a gentle squeeze. “Things have been . . . different this trip. Maybe a bit of your way is what we need?” I smile, and my cheeks heat again. This time, I don’t mind him seeing me blush. “So, yeah. You’re coming with us, Belle,” Nova says. He winks and adds, “Don’t make me lick you.”

I almost choke at his words. Yes, please, the voice in my head screams. Horny bitch. “Excuse me?” I reply instead.

“You know . . . I licked it. It’s mine. Even Grinder can’t argue with that logic.” Laughter erupts from me, taking away all the confusion and questions. “Come on,” Nova says, tugging on my hand. “Let’s get our stuff and get going. You still have a few dozen pictures to take to piss off Grinder.”

I follow Nova into the building, letting him hold my hand the entire time and noticing when Grinder spots us. Good. Let him see that I’m sticking around. For good measure, I smile and give him a little wave. He scoffs and goes back to waiting for his turn at the counter.

A few minutes later, we’re back outside, having made quick work out of throwing away our garbage and replacing it with fresh supplies. Nova helps me get my pack on as Grinder starts northward. “Where are you going?” I ask after him.

“Trailhead is a mile and a quarter that way,” Grinder replies, pointing northwest.

“But we came from the opposite direction,” I point out. “The trail is back there.”

Grinder sighs like I’m being unreasonable. He points to the hills west of us. “See those brown lumps of dirt? The trail takes two miles to cross them with a pleasant view of where you’re standing. You won’t be missing much, princess.”

“Princess?”

“Belle. Like the princess, right? I would think that you would want to take the plushy, comfy way, which is north, where the trail crosses the highway, saving us two extra miles.”

“Belle never took the plushy option, Grinder. Or maybe I should call you Gaston instead? You seem to want to treat me about as well.”

Grinder laughs. Like holy shit, an actual laugh. It’s a deep, growling laugh. Shit. I kind of like it.


Tags: Chris Mor Thriller