My eyes travel down her outfit, a simple pair of green leggings paired with a matching tank and a lightweight black jacket.
I've never seen someone wear athleisure so incredibly well.
Yet I'll bet that she can wear anything and still be the most beautiful person in the world.
She catches me checking her out and smiles wide at me.
"Sorry for the wait," she apologizes.
After I clear my throat and purge the thoughts of tearing those clothes off her I reply, "There's no need."
I then pass the truck keys to Connor who catches them effortlessly. "Want to start it up for me?"
He nods his head eagerly. "Can I pick out the station, too?"
"Connor," Grace begins, looking at me hesitantly but I subtly shake my head at her.
"Use the aux cord, champ. I trust your taste in music," I tell him.
His face lights up. "Awesome!" He then goes running to the garage and less than ten seconds later I hear the truck start up.
"Thanks for that," she says shyly. "He's used to-"
"Doing that with you, I remember."
"You give him a small thing like that and it's like you're giving him the world. Something so small yet it makes him so happy." There's that look that flickers across her face again. Dimming the light that was shinning in her eyes. And I absolutely hate it.
"You make him happy, Grace. I'm sure you could give him anything and he would be happy because it's coming from you. Because he knows you care about him. That you love him."
She nods her head but for the first time I can see the doubt hidden in the depths of her blue eyes.
Wanting to take her mind off it, to keep her from plunging in the dark of which I know too well I say, "Come on before I haul your ass over my shoulders."
Gasping her mouth falls open as she stares at me incredulously. "You wouldn't.” Her tone is lighter. Good.
"Don't test me," I warn her.
She narrows her eyes but they're playful, teasing. Then she arches her brow. "I suppose we'll save that for another time." And then she waltzes by me. Swinging her luscious hips as she does full of sass.
I'm in fucking hell keeping my hands of this girl.
The drive to Bushkill Falls ends up being one of the most fun drives of my life. I honestly haven't smiled that much in nine years. With Grace singing along to the songs with the wrong lyrics and at terrible pitch, to Connor laughing while trying to correct her, and then us all making up our own lyrics to each song.
It all feels natural, right.
It's been over an hour since then and we are halfway through our hike to gaze at the waterfalls. And the whole time they've been enjoying the hike I've been fighting back the feeling of guilt.
Do I deserve to be happy?
I fight the thoughts away as I take a seat on the wooden bench. There's a waterfall not so far ahead of us and Connor runs to see it. Grace laughs, about to join him but stops when she notices I'm not by her side.
She glances back at me and then over at Connor. Seeing that he's okay and in sight she walks back towards me joining me on the bench.
The air automatically shifts like it always does when she's near.
When the silence becomes too loud and I'm tired of fighting this war inside my head I ask her, "You really love him don't you?" Her eyes haven't left Connor.
She smiles softly, giving me another beautiful image to store when my mind goes south. "I don't think love is a sufficient enough word to use for what I feel for him."
