She’s beside my bike, having opened one of the saddlebags and pulled out the head protection I wear every time I ride now.When I accept it from her, our fingers graze, and her eyes flick to mine before she returns to her task.It’s not long before the two leather bags are bulging with the glass jars.
“There.Good to go.”Zoey smiles up at me, and I’m done holding back.
My arms snake around her waist, pulling her close.
“I’ve decided how you can repay me for the jigsaw.”
Gently, I trace my lips over the lines of her face.I taste her skin, loving the bit of salt mixed with the heat of a rising blush.
“Oh, really?”Her voice sounds light, breathless.
“How would you feel about taking a break tomorrow?”
“Taking a break?”Zoey asks, as if the idea never occurred to her.
“Yes.As in give yourself a day off from the cabin and website designing.Let me take you out.”
She tilts her head up to meet my eyes.“Like, on a date?For dinner?”
“More than just dinner.I’m requesting a full day.You and me, going on an adventure.And, yes, a date.”I move my hands up her back, admiring the shape of her through her baggy clothes.
“What’s an adventure date?”
“You’ve never had an adventure date?”
I grin down at her, and she responds with a curious smile.
“Can’t say that I have.”
“Well then, you’re in for a treat.”
21
ZOEY
Today,I officially summited a mountain.For the first time.How have I lived my entire life in Colorado and never done so before?
Probably because I spend most of my time bent over a computer rather than planning adventures.
“Watch your step.You might not think it, but going up is easier than coming down,” Warner calls over his shoulder, navigating the rocky trail as easily as if he were strolling down a sidewalk on Main Street.
I keep my eyes on the ground, avoiding any obvious loose rocks.It’s not long before the heavy steps start up an ache in the soles of my feet, and despite Grandma Minnie’s boots being my size, they still rub blisters on my soles.The Band-Aids I put on a little while ago only help so much.
Still, I smile.
By the time we reach the trailhead, the sun is just sinking below the trees.The sweat on my skin makes me shiver, and I hurry to unlock my truck.
“You cold?I brought this.”Warner sets his backpack on the bed of the truck and rummages in it until he pulls out a large black sweatshirt.It matches his outfit for the day—black baseball hat, black T-shirt, black athletic shorts, black socks.The only bits of him not noir are his brown hiking boots.
I wonder if the gothic color palette is his attempt to maintain his biker persona, even as he dresses for hiking.
What would it take to get him in a pink shirt?
He’d still probably look badass.
The sweatshirt is large on me, and I enjoy the soft warmth of it while ignoring the fact that I’m stinking it up with my sweaty body.
A shower is going to feel so good.
