Gabriella looked up, startled. Connor was standing on her lawn, and her heart hammered at the sight of him. He’d made no attempt to discipline his hair today, and the dark locks fell about his face, tossed by the steady breeze. His grin was lazy, hands thrown into his shorts pockets as he wandered up her path. The tight sleeves of a blue Superman T-shirt gripped the magnificent muscles on his arms. She almost forgot how to talk, how to do anything but stare, and she was pretty sure by the way he stopped and smirked at her from the walkway that he could tell.
She remembered how to make her mouth work and quickly stood. “I didn’t hear you pull up.”
“That’s because I walked.”
It made her giddy—the fact that he lived close enough to get there by foot, that he’d been a few blocks from her all this time. The proximity presented so many options, for staying into the evening when they returned later on, their post-hike sweaty skin an invitation for getting even sweatier.
A suggestive smile slid over her face. “You might end up wishing you’d driven later on tonight. I heard it’s supposed to rain.”
Connor shrugged. “I don’t have a car.”
“Oh.” She was momentarily thrown. How had he been getting into town and back? “I could have picked you up,” she said, skipping down the steps to meet him.
Yes, she actually skipped.
Connor’s grin widened as he fixed his eyes on her, his gaze making a lazy pass down her body and back up again. It made her feel like she was wearing lingerie instead of hiking gear. Or nothing at all.
“It wasn’t a long walk,” he said. “Ready to go?”
She had to remind herself that she really did want to go on this hike, and not try to convince him to go up to her bedroom and finish what they’d started instead.
They got into her car, and she handed him the map.
“Why don’t you pick a trail?” she asked as she backed out the driveway.
“They’re all pretty much the same to me, but sure.”
“You don’t have a preference?”
“Not really.”
“I thought you wanted to hike?”
“No. You said you were hiking today. I just said I wanted to go with you.” That impish grin of his flickered over his lips, lips that she knew the feel of, and Gabriella went hot inside.
She took them out of Portland, following the local streets she knew so well to I-295, the highway that would lead her south and to her future in a few weeks’ time. For now, though, she turned north toward the comfort of the mountains. Connor played with the radio stations until he found a familiar song. When his arm stretched out over the gearshift, she caught a swirl of black ink by the edge of his sleeve.
“You didn’t tell me you had a tattoo.”
“You didn’t ask,” he said. “If it had been one of your questions last night, I might have.”
“Well, we’ve got some time to keep playing now.” They came to a red light, and she peeked down at his bicep. “Can I see it?”
Connor paused, then tugged up his shirtsleeve, revealing smooth, tanned skin that she itched to touch. The intricate design there, however, hijacked her attention. It was nearly an optical illusion, something that could have easily been confused with a tribal band, but it wasn’t knot work at all. It was two dragons, both mirror images of one another, enmeshed together at tail and claw.
“It’s beautiful,” she said quietly. “What does it represent?”
Connor craned his neck, giving his arm a cursory glance before meeting Gabriella’s eyes. “I guess I always thought it showed how everyone has two sides of themselves, both of them pulling at you at the same time. Or how we all have positive and negative experiences in life, and that brings us balance.”
Connor’s expression was serious, floating on the edge of the darkness she’d seen in them before, but then he grinned, his perfect white teeth gleaming.
“But the dude who did the tat just said it was two cool dragons.”
Gabriella laughed and brought her focus back to the road. “I have one too, you know.”
“Oh yeah?” He turned toward her, leaning over the gearshift. “What is it?”
“A butterfly,” she replied. “Typical, I know.”
Connor chuckled. “Typical you. It’s duality.”
She smiled, shocked at how well he seemed to know her already. But then Connor leaned a little closer to her, and his voice went low and sexy when he asked, “Where is it?”
Her nipples stiffened as she imagined him drinking in the skin at the crease of her thigh. “Is one of the rules of this game that we have to answer the questions the other asks?”
“I don’t think we came up with any rules.”
“Well then, maybe I’ll let you look for it later.”
She may have sounded like she was teasing, but she couldn’t have been more serious, ready for him to strip her clothes off on the trail, someplace hidden in the shadows of the trees.
“I’ll try to be patient.”
The light changed and she merged onto the highway, relaxing as they listened to the music and watched the scenery pass by. Lush summer pines lined the side of the road, interspersed with maples and aspens. Gabriella thought of how brilliantly they change colors in the fall, what they look like closer to Christmas, when snow weighed down their barren branches, embracing them in white. Maybe this year she’d come back over winter break, if her parents hadn’t been able to sell the house yet. Or maybe Connor could come down to visit her at school. It was crazy, this hope that whatever they were becoming would last even after summer’s heat faded into a memory, but maybe crazy was what she needed right now.
She took the exit at Freeport and slowed down at the crush of cars, the tourists hunting for parking by the outlets. When they reached Pownal and the gentle slope of the mountain, Gabriella let out a relieved sigh. She got out of the car and looked up at the sky through the canopy of leaves, breathing in the scent of bark and forest. She slipped her backpack over her arms while Connor looked at the map.
“Did you choose a path?”
“I think I’ll use the tried and true, eenie-meanie-miney-moe strategy and pick...” He poked his finger against a random fold on the map. “This one.”
Gabriella laughed, more at ease than she’d felt in months. Years, maybe. That dip above Connor’s lip beckoned, and she wanted to throw her arms around him, to draw him close and kiss him silly as they began the ascent up the South Ridge Trail.
It was quiet and serene once they were safely nestled within the dense wood. The cool, still air was a stark contrast to the salty sea breeze and rush of wave against rock on the shore. The moss-covered ground and weathered boulders were distant cousins of the sandy coastline and sturdy lighthouses they’d left behind for the day. Connor reached out to take her hand. His fingers were warm and felt good wrapped around hers. They were halfway up the incline when he paused by a tremendous tree, its bark aged and gray. Its roots spindled down like veins over the obstinate surface of a large stone.
“Amazing how that happens, isn’t it? That the roots can reach around anything in its way to seek out soil?”
He took their joined fingers and caressed the trunk, face lost in complete wonderment.
“I always thought part of the beauty of nature was in its common sense,” Gabriella reasoned. “The tree is just doing what it needs to do in order to survive.”
“But it shouldn’t be able to. It’s another example proving that the theory you’re working so hard against.”
“You’re just hell bent on seeing me fail, aren’t you?”
Connor pulled her toward another tree deeper in the thicket, a few feet away from the trail. He led her through the brush, and Gabriella enjoyed the feeling of secrecy it held.
“I don’t want you to fail, but come on, even Buddhism recognizes the dual nature of thin
gs. How else can you explain yin and yang?”
“Are you a computer geek or an Eastern philosopher?”
“Can’t I be both? You were the one who said I’m more than I seem.” Connor stopped walking and turned to face her, searching her eyes, his free hand reaching up to cup her face. “You’re so much more too.”
He looked at her for a moment, his thumb stroking over her cheek. Then he kissed her gently, sweetly, his palm slipping down from her cheek to the back of her neck. There was nothing urgent about the kiss, and Gabriella let her eyes close, let herself fall into it, enjoying soft and tender in a way she never had before.
With a smile against his lips, she murmured, “Maybe I’ll let you look for that butterfly now.”
He skimmed his nose along hers. “Oh yeah? Here in the woods?”
“Here in the woods.”
“Kinky.” His touch traveled down her neck and over her shoulder. “Am I getting warm?”
“Freezing cold.”
He touched her shoulder blades, her spine, the small of her back. “Warmer?”
“I’d say you’re…temperate.”
He chuckled. This time, the sound slid between her thighs. “You gonna give me a hint?”
Gabriella stood on her toes to whisper in his ear, “Lower.”
Connor slipped his hands to her bottom, and her hard exhale was as loud as his hiss when he squeezed. His lips brushed hers in an open-mouthed tease. “Am I hot yet?”
“Almost.” She reached back and drew one of his hands around to her belly. “Other side.”
Connor groaned and pulled her to him with the hand still grabbing her ass. He fell back against a nearby tree, leaning on it for support, and Gabriella licked the shell of his ear. Reveling in his shudder, she bit down on his earlobe and brought his hand down toward the waistband of her shorts. She popped the first button open for him, and Connor’s hand slipped inside.
“Now you’re burning up,” she told him.
“Fuck,” he said, his breathing hard and fast. When his fingers stroked over the damp fabric covering her slit, he seemed to completely forget about his quest. Instead, he simply snapped.
Connor twisted her around until her back was shoved against the tree. He freed his hand from her shorts long enough to yank her shirt up, pulling it over her head. She raised her arms to help him, wrenching it off her wrists and throwing it to the ground. She tried to do the same to him, gripping the hem of his T-shirt and lifting it until her palms met the smooth, bare planes of his chest. Connor pulled back and whipped the shirt off, then kissed her again, sucking and biting as he worked to undo the remaining buttons on her shorts. It was wild and fast and risky and wrong, and she’d never felt so good in her life. She was about to beg him to go lower again, to soothe that wet ache between her legs when she heard voices. It was children’s laughter, getting closer by the second.
Connor froze and reached frantically for their shirts. He picked them up and raised his arms to the tree’s branches, his bulky frame and muscled arms hiding her from view. He kept watch over his shoulder, waiting for the family to pass.
Gabriella grinned, dizzy with the satisfaction of finally seeing how far he was willing to go. It was a given that they weren’t going to be alone out here, but she didn’t want to stop. There were other spots along the mountain where they could hide, places where they could be alone and forget the roles they’d been forced to play. She wanted to let him finish looking for that butterfly, to find the hottest places inside her and not stop until they were both shaking.
The children disappeared with their parents down the path. Connor turned back to face her, his head lowered and eyes closed in obvious relief.
“Connor,” she began, searching for the right way to tell him what she was feeling.
You’re so much more than I’d hoped.
You’re everything I’ve been waiting for.
“I shouldn’t have done that,” he said.
Gabriella shook her head, but with his eyes still closed, Connor didn’t see it. He must have thought that she was humiliated, not thrilled that he nearly just made one of her longest running fantasies a reality.
“No, Connor, it’s—”
“I know. I was out of line. We went too far. It was completely inappropriate.”
Gabriella paused, the crushing weight of disappointment coming down like a chokehold, the things she was about to say caught in her throat. Connor opened his eyes and handed her back her shirt.
“It was wrong,” he added, nodding at words that didn’t even sound like his, face stern and unreadable.
It was wrong.
The words fed into all her past rejections, Gabriella’s self-doubt clamping down her jaw and stinging her eyes with tears. She wanted to scream, to tell him that he was the one who was wrong. That out of line and inappropriate were exactly what she’d been starving for. But she couldn’t bear to tell him that and see the same look of disgust and shock in his eyes that she’d seen too many times before. So she let her rational side take the driver’s seat, mirrored Connor’s nod and forced out a cool, calm reply.
“It’s all right.”
Without meeting his eyes, she carefully rebuttoned her shorts and put her shirt back on.
Connor kicked at the ground. “Do you want to keep going?”
She nodded again, although she wasn’t sure if he was asking about the hike or the crumbling beginnings of their would-be love affair. Both of them were ruined now, anyway.
They wordlessly trekked up to the mountain’s peak and sat for a few minutes on the flat expanse of rock. As they looked out over the horizon, Connor kept a healthy distance between them, not even coming close enough to let their fingertips touch. All at once, he appeared no different from every other man she’d been with: closed off, hesitant and restrained. It made her feel sick to her stomach. They picked their way back down the mountain without speaking, and by the time they returned to her car, she couldn’t wait to get home.
They remained silent for the drive back to Portland. Outside, the sky was getting cloudy, overcast and gray. They were passed by a group of motorbikes on the highway, flying by her in the left lane. In a moment of desperation, she sought out her masked rider, but every one of them was dressed in bright blues and red racing stripes. There were no traces of his slick, dark leather or his shiny black bike anywhere.
Gabriella pulled robotically onto her driveway. The quiet in the car was stifling.
“So I’ll call you later?” Connor asked, tentative even in the way he angled his body toward her in the passenger seat. “There’s a bonfire down at the beach tonight.”
“Sure,” she lied. “Sounds great.”
She flipped through the excuses that came to her mind.
I just don’t feel the same way.
I have to focus on my studies.
But it hurt to think of saying things like that to him.
He walked her to her front door, and she ducked away from the kiss he tried to place on her cheek. She had to turn away from the hurt she saw in his eyes.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered as she went inside.
It was the same thing she would have said too.
Chapter Ten
Connor walked until the late afternoon hours fell into dusk. The brilliantly sunny day had faded into a chilly summer rain, the kind that didn’t so much come down from the clouds but seemed to saturate the air in every direction. It was fitting—the gloom was the ideal accompaniment to his epic state of fuckup.
Today had been amazing. Being with Gabby and so far away from Portland and his past, he felt more free than he could ever remember being. He’d never really thought about it before, but he’d always been fascinated by nature, the way leaves and flowers kept coming back no matter how badly winter beat the crap out of them, year after year. Nature was a survivor, just lik
e him. Surrounded by those trees and the way Gabby looked at him, he got lost in it. Got lost in her.
How could he not have? She seemed to see through him, to not even notice the shell of his former life he thought followed him everywhere like a ghost. She’d said there was more to him than his closest friends realized, even after only knowing him a few days. Somehow, she saw him. He had to show her what that meant to him, and how incredible he thought she was too. The idea of losing that moment, of letting her walk out of the forest without telling her exactly how amazing she was, was something he couldn’t let happen.
But apparently, that was yet another phenomenal joke.
He’d wanted it to be special, and all he ended up doing was maul her against a tree. He couldn’t stop himself. All it took was the feel of the bare skin of her belly and the damp, soft cotton of her panties, and he lost control. She’d made him want to be different, but in the end, he couldn’t. He’d tried to replace himself with a better version, with his opposite, and it didn’t change a goddamn thing. He’d never be able to fix things with her. Not after today.
Connor felt that same tension from his childhood balling up in his stomach again—the feeling like he had to fight the whole goddamn world just to get a scrap of happiness.
He kept walking until he hit the strip of beach by the cove, his hands firmly entrenched in his pockets. His shirt was wet, his hair was sticking to his forehead, and his socks were soaked through, but he didn’t care. He just stood there and looked out at the murky horizon, almost unable to make out where the line of the ocean met the dreary clouds. The weather hadn’t stopped a bunch of kids from setting up camp at the water’s edge, though. Connor watched as they hovered around a spot in the sand and then suddenly jumped back, running with their heads turned to look over their shoulders as the firework they’d just lit exploded into the air. As it fizzled to the ground, one of the kids punched a fist above his head in glee. They all ran back to where they’d started, skidding to their knees in the wet sand to light another. They were too busy and the ocean was too loud for them to hear the sound of tires rolling over the pavement, but Connor knew what was behind him before he even turned around.
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