“Are those coyotes?” I’ve never actually seen one in person, but it was well-known even in the hills around LA that if a little dog went missing, you weren’t likely to get it back thanks to the coyotes hanging around.
“Yes. They prey on antelope calves. They’ve even been known to hang around a pregnant mother, waiting for her to give birth. I understand everything has its place in the food chain, but I really hate those motherfuckers.”
The coyotes stare at us with just as much singular attention as we’re giving them. I always pictured them as rangy and starving, but this pair looks well-fed. The thought saddens me.
“Are they waiting for us to leave?” I ask.
“Yes.” Warner shifts, looking back at the mother antelope. “She hasn’t moved.”
“I feel bad for her.”
“Me too.” He sighs. “I usually try not to interrupt nature. I know this is the way of things, and those coyotes might have little mouths to feed too, but…” He pauses, his hands tightening on the reins, and when he doesn’t continue, I ask, “But what?”
His lips brush my ear so that I feel and hear his next words. “Do you trust me?”
Trust? My trust in men was recently shattered. But then, Warner is not just any man, or an everyman. I don’t yet know who or what he really is, but I know enough about him to know what he stands for, and that I’ve already trusted him once on the side of a deserted highway.
My head turns so that his lips hover near my cheek, his breath warm on my skin. “I trust you.”
His left arm leaves the reins, slides around my stomach, and grips my hip. He hauls me back against him, holding me firmly in place. “Hold on,” he instructs.
My entire body stiffens in anticipation.
Warner leans forward, makes a noise with his mouth, and Titan shifts into action. I suck in a breath, my hair lifting from my shoulders, and hold tightly to the bucking roll on the saddle.
Titan begins to trot. “I’ve got you,” Warner rumbles into my ear.
He’s more right about that than he knows. My poor, foolish heart.
The coyotes still haven’t moved. They’re either brave or hungry, or perhaps their hunger has made them brave. “Yell,” Warner commands.
At first I’m confused, but then he shouts, a wild and raucous sound, a long string of vowels, and the coyotes shift their weight, their posture changing from predatory to guarded.
I realize what’s happening and join in, yelling like Warner, more animal than human. It feels good. It feels like what I should have done the moment I saw the pictures of Tate cheating on me.
The coyotes turn tail and sprint away. Warner keeps up the chase, stopping once he gets to the tree line. He swings one leg over the back of Titan and hops down, shouting once more, but this time it’s more of a cheer.
“We did it!” He reaches up, his smile stretching wide. He grabs me around the waist, lifting me right off the saddle and setting me on my feet in front of him.
I’m dazed and my legs are sore, but all of that pales in comparison to the high we’re both riding on. I grin back at him, palming his chest. “That was insane,” I laugh the words, incredulous, tipping my head forward and shaking it disbelievingly. “Can I add that to the script? Because that would be the perfect plot thrust for the main characters’ love arc…” The words die on my lips. I blink up at Warner. The thrill of our adventure fades immediately, as if it were on a dimmer switch. Suddenly the air feels heavy, my unfinished sentence suspended in the ether.
Warner brushes my hair back from my face, his touch leaving invisible but permanent impressions in my skin. “What would happen next in your script?” Deep and rough, his voice digs into me.
“They would kiss.” It is the simplest and truest answer.
Warner leans closer, our chests now separated only by the palms I still have pressed against him. His lips touch the corner of my mouth, hovering there, as if he’s deciding if he should really go for it.
My heart hurts for him, for what he must be feeling in this moment. It isn’t lost on me, what this means to him. Kissing someone who isn’t Anna.
He drags his lips slowly across mine. Decision made.
“Like this?” he murmurs against me.
“No,” I respond, shaking my head almost imperceptibly, so my lips brush back and forth across his. “Like this.” My hands leave his chest, gliding up and into his hair, my lips press against his. He groans, urging me open with his tongue, sweeping across the inside of my mouth. His hands are on my hips, fingers digging in, crushing me against him, then sliding up my back. One hand continues up, up, up, where he works his fingers into my hair and holds my head in place. His other hand locks around my waist, and he holds me still, devouring my mouth. No kiss has ever felt so good, so right, so earth shattering. Beyond a shadow of a doubt, I will never be the same after this.
So I cling to the moment. I run my hands through his hair, scrape my nails softly over the back of his neck, hold on to his shoulders for dear life. And right this very second, it does feel like I’m holding on to life.Reallife.
The kiss finally ends, and we both draw back, dragging in air, the only sound that of our heavy breathing. My hands go to my hips and I look up to the blue sky, cotton candy clouds stretched across it, as I try to slow my heart rate.
