She loves it here, though. She’s told me multiple times over the past weeks that Yosemite is one of her favorites. There may be hope after all.
Max whines and circles around his empty food bowl.
Like clockwork.
Back at the fridge, I pull out the homemade dog food and fill his bowl. While he eats, I grab my phone off the counter and return to the bedroom with the water for Lily.
She’s dead asleep still, the cotton sheet now twisted and wrinkled, pooled down around her waist. The top half of her smooth bare body is exposed to me, and I stand there too long, replaying her atop me. She had let go, and her enjoyment—the pleasure on her face—it was like seeing all of Lily for the first time.
The sheets rustle down by her feet as she stretches out and the movement prompts me to move, sliding into the open spot next to her. I lean against the headboard and smile when she seeks out my body heat.
Phone in hand, I turn it over, noting the text message from Brent. When I open it, my smile dies.
Brent
Raven wants an answer. Come on, man, don’t make this difficult.
Raven? Well, I guess the tattoos make sense now. It’s like he’s personally branded those he uses, including Brent.
Lily lets out a sigh, and I glance at her, then back to the phone before I’m drawn to her again.
I don’t want to be involved, and I sure as hell will not be used by this dealer to smuggle his drugs. How could I face Lily? How could I be the man she deserves and needs if I use the very place she comes to escape to move drugs, solely for the selfish reason of protecting my name.
Closing my eyes, I lean my head against the headboard, remembering her face as it transformed when she saw the hidden waterfall. Her eyes were wide and shining, lips parted with an unfiltered smile, radiant in every way. She looked at it with reverence, and I cherish that moment when nothing else mattered. The glow in her expression, the happiness, rivals any of the places in this park.
It’s not the most breathtaking view in Yosemite, far from it, but the idea that this unmarked path leads to such an unvisited site—it’s impossible not to feel the hum in the air. I can only imagine learning what I’ve allowed this Raven to do would tear that look right off her face. She’d hate me, and I’d hate myself.
I reach in my pocket and rustle the damp paper I tucked in there. I need to be here for her and my mom. If I’m caught, I can’t be. If things go wrong, I won’t be.
I follow that thought and text Brent back.
I can’t.
His reply is instant.
Brent
Wrong move.
Chapter 25
Lily
Itoss another shirt into the pile, smoothing the fabric with a half-hearted swipe of my hand. The fresh scent of detergent clings to the air, but all I can think about is the sun-warmed breeze slipping through the open sliding glass door in the living room.
Outside, the sky is perfect, an endless blue rolling through the pasture hills, and I swear I can hear the trees whispering my name, begging me to come write in the open air.
I fold a towel, badly, and my fingers move on autopilot as I finish up the rest of the laundry so I can join Ms. Sullivan out on the back porch.
She’s been out there every day for weeks. Even Christmas day, after we had a cinnamon roll breakfast and exchanged a few gifts, she ended up on the porch for most of the day. It helps the weather has been beautiful.
Time has moved unbearably fast since Noah took me to the unmarked path and things between us moved forward. We’ve spent as much time with each other as possible, mostly hiking and having family game nights with his mom. I spent my first Christmas with people in over six years, and it was like a cleansing hug in my heart. I finally don’t feel so alone.
For Christmas I gave Noah a handwritten hiking date voucher book, redeemable for scenic sunrise hikes, picnic hikes, or hikes that end with us both naked and in bed together. Those are my favorite. He’s been redeeming them as much as possible over the past couple days, so much so, that I told him I had to catch up on laundry today, especially before the new year.
New Year’s Eve is tomorrow, and like most holidays we’ve spent together, we plan on having a movie night and watching the ball drop with his mom. I’m excited to celebrate another year, and that’s a rarity for me. Ms. Sullivan gets to celebrate another, too.
With a sigh, I reach for another shirt and out tumble the socks Noah got me for Christmas. Probably my favorite gift ever, if I’m being honest. They are hiking socks with a handstitched scenic background of mountains, but in the forefront is a middle finger flicking off the mountains and there couldn’t be anything more me.
