Surprised, I sit up a bit, unsure how to respond to that. He’s looking at me so intently that I want to hide, but at the same time his searching gaze stirs a challenge in me. I’ve been giving him too much power over me since the moment we met, constantly on the defensive and reacting in fear. But we’re in my world now, and this is about him. Not me.
“Oh, I have advice,” I say, though my thoughts are still forming. “But I’m not sure you’ll listen.”
Derek’s eyes narrow. “Try me.”
“What if, and I can’t believe I’m about to say this, your friends have found their happy places because they’ve all found their person?” I shudder, hating myself for even suggesting that a romantic entanglement could be useful. But unfortunately I think I’m right. “Liam Connolly doesn’t get into nearly as much trouble as he used to since he met his wife. And Bonnie Aiken is thriving now that she has Henry McAllister. Cole Evanson declared his feelings in front of a sold out arena and couldn’t give a crap what people thought of him.”
Derek shifts closer, practically tipping his chair to one side. “Exactly how much do you know about me and my life, Donovan Tate?” His voice has dropped into a low growl full of suspicion. He seems to have used my last name as a weapon, though he doesn’t need to. I’m the farthest thing from a threat to a guy like him when I want nothing to do with him.
I sigh. “More than I would like, Derek Riley. Do you have any idea how often people talk about you and your life? I guarantee you would have been a hot conversation topic on this trip even if you weren’t here. The matchmade gang is exactly your demographic.”
“Ah.” He relaxes back in his chair, no longer facing me. “Right. I try not to think about how many people…you know, talk about me in regular conversation. It’s weird.”
“Weird that people talk about you? I agree.”
He chuckles. “So you think I need to find love if I want to survive my celebrity status?”
Without seeing his face, I can’t tell how he feels about the idea, which bugs me more than it should. Derek has allegedly been single for almost a year and a half. For a regular human, that’s pretty normal. For someone constantly in the limelight? He’s just begging to be stalked by rabid fans.
As the college crew start heading to their tents with sleepy goodnights, I take a deep breath and try to figure out what response Derek needs tohear. Everyone learns something different while on the river, but what does a guy who has everything need to learn about himself?
Though I remind myself that I should end this conversation and stop letting him get me talking, it’s too late. My heart is aching to help him, and I’m not going to be able to walk away. Not without doing what I can.
Silently cursing, I take a slow breath and brace myself for whatever might come. “Here’s what I think.” The WanderLove group is winding down too now that it’s dark, so I keep my voice low. “Love isn’t for everyone, and it’s certainly not something I need in my life, but some people really benefit from having someone in their corner.”
“Why?”
“Because they—”
“Sorry, I mean why don’t you want to fall in love?” He asks it so easily, even though it’s a heavy question.
Do I want to answer? Not in the slightest. And yet the words are on the tip of my tongue, begging to be set free. “Because—”
A flashlight shines in our faces, serendipitously interrupting our conversation.
“Oops!” one of the gals says, giggling a bit. “Sorry! We’re all going to bed, and I noticed you don’t have a flashlight, Derek. I can light the way to your tent if you’d like!”
Wow, she’s bold. Whoever she is.
Derek clears his throat, eyes meeting mine. His expression is guarded, a blank mask, but something pulls at the corners of his eyes. Twitches in his eyebrows. It’s almost like he’s waiting for me to answer his question, or like he thinks he might read it on my face, and I hold my breath, waiting to see what he finds as the silence stretches on.
“So?” the girl says, and I tear my eyes from Derek’s face to look at her. Morgan, the redhead who won’t go down without a fight when it comes to gaining Derek’s attention.
When I look at him again, Derek’s lips purse the smallest bit. His eyebrows pull down, and then he stands. “Thanks, Morgan.” Man that he is, he offers his arm to her and walks with her to the sea of tents, looking back only once.
Lightheaded, I exhale and silently scold myself for being so weak. Just because Derek is easy to talk to, that shouldn’t be enough for me to trust him. I might not be a threat to him, but he’s always going to be dangerous for me.
Alone at last, I listen as Derek checks the girls’ tent for scorpions, assuring them that they’ll be safe tonight if they keep their tent zipped.
“You’re so nice, Derek Riley!” one of the girls says.
“Just Derek is fine,” he replies.
“Utah doesn’t have scorpions,” one of the guys declares loudly. Wrongly. I’ll have to remind the group tomorrow about wearing shoes at camp, especially at night, though I can’t help but snicker as I wiggle my bare toes in the cool sand. “You girls are being paranoid.”
“Never hurts to check,” Derek says kindly. “Better safe than—oh, it actually looks like there might be one right by your f—”
The squeal that interrupts his sentence is so loud that I jump, and a chorus of feminine screams fills the air, followed by a very sleepy Hunter shouting, “Derek!” and the sound of someone struggling with a tent zipper.
