Donovan hasn’t walked away. Granted, we’re trapped on a boat together so she has nowhere to go, but something about her feels…
Safe.
“So why’d you tell me?” she asks as she pulls her eyebrows together. “Of all the people to come clean to, you picked a sassy river guide with zero qualms about telling you that you’re overrated.”
Frowning, I can’t decide if I should laugh or complain, which is surprising on its own. Her words should bother me, but they don’t. “Pretty sure you haven’t said that particular insult yet.”
“Well, I stand by it.” But she smiles, humor dancing in her eyes.
“I thought maybe you would stop insulting me by now,” I say in the same light tone she used. Even with my over-tight life jacket, I feel like I can breathe for the first time all morning, so my words come out clear. “Did you miss the part where I told you I have clinical perfectionistic tendencies that have seriously impacted my life?”
“Did you miss the part where you’re allowed to make mistakes because that’s what makes us human?” She reaches forward and twists my oars to the right position, and her hands linger again, her pinkies brushingagainst my forefingers. This time, it feels intentional. Heat spreads from my fingers down to my toes, and for a moment all I can hear is the pounding of my heart in my ears as I stare at her, willing her to come closer. To let me into a space she guards so fiercely, just like I did with her. “I mean that, Derek. Don’t be Phaethon and think you have something to prove.” Her hands slide over the top of mine, stealing the breath from my lungs as she leans in while the boat drifts aimlessly downstream. “Don’t make the same mistakes I did.”
What does that mean?
I don’t ask. Not when she comes close enough that I can see the blue ring around her green eyes. I thought about kissing her last night, and the thought is even stronger today now that I’ve shared a piece of my heart with her. A kiss with Donovan Tate—with someone I trust—is bound to be nothing like the kisses I’ve had before, and I’m almost desperate to experience it.
My right oar hits the nearby shore with a bang, sliding inward and upward. The boat turns from the impact and shoves the oar handle directly into my face. Pain shoots through my jaw as I tumble backward, seeing stars.
And in case anyone is wondering if there’s a dignified way to take a hit like that…
There isn’t.
Chapter Fifteen
Donovan
Youknowthatthingwhere you’re having a vulnerable moment with a surprisingly down-to-earth guy and you’ve said a little too much so you think it might be a good idea to kiss him as a distraction but then he gets hit in the face with an oar which kind of kills the mood so you stick to inane topics and river stories for the rest of the day but you can tell he picked up on that thing you said that was more than you wanted to say and really wants to ask you about it but can’t because you’ve decided to become besties with the two guys on the trip whoaren’ttools even though you would rather be talking to the guy you almost kissed?
Uh, yeah. Me neither.
“So we took this really intense personality quiz,” Emmett is telling me from the beach, while I sit in the river scrubbing biodegradable shampoo into my hair. He declined the invitation to join in on thebathing party most of the group is doing this afternoon, saying something about dry shampoo so he doesn’t ruin his hair with the dirty water.
Maverick, on the other hand, readily joined me in the river when I asked, and though he has already washed his hair, he’s enjoying the cool water as the sun beats down on us. When the WanderLove girls saw us heading to the river, they all grabbed their supplies and followed, which prompted the college crew to do the same, though they’ve opted to stay on the other side of the boats to “let the kids have their fun,” according to one of them.
Now, Steph and Rosa are flirting it up with Brody and Cody a few yards downriver, and Morgan and Zahra have taken up sunbathing farther up the beach now that they’re clean. Mason and Farah are working on dinner, which means I’m buddied up with Maverick, Emmett, and Thiago, who has fallen asleep on the nearest boat with a towel over him, blocking out the sun.
And Derek? The instant he got his tent set up, he promptly lay down to take a nap. I think the combination of poor sleep and a violent oar to the jaw really took its toll on him. Or he recognized what I was doing when I asked the WanderLove boys to help bring all the kitchen stuff up the beach, and he accepted the fact that I am not ready for another deep conversation.
Something tells me he won’t let me avoid it forever, but I’m going to take advantage of this time away from him while I’ve got it.
“Okay,” I say, trying to keep up with Emmett’s incredibly detailed explanation of the WanderLove group and how they all ended up on the river. “And they used that quiz to pair you up for the trip?”
“I don’t think we’re fully matched with a single person,” Maverick says. He only has his legs in the water now, leaning back on his elbows with his toned torso on full display in the sunshine. Despite his frat boy appearance, he’s more on the quiet side and doesn’t seem to have the ego I would have expected.
With Brody distracted, I’m enjoying some normal conversation without loaded glances from the single guys.
“I’m pretty sure anyone could match with anyone in the group,” Maverick adds, “and the whitewater trip is how we figure out who we pair best with.”
“If that’s the case,” Emmett says, wrinkling his nose, “I think you and I are toast, Mav. The only way we were going to have a chance with Steph or Rosa was if the algorithm decreed it.” He looks over to where the two gals are now in a splash battle with their bros, a bit of longing in his expression.
I quickly dunk my head back, rinsing the shampoo from my hair. Personally, I like the other two girls better, even if Morgan inadvertently tried to choke Derek last night. Rosa seems almost possessive over Cody, and Steph tends to give me dirty looks any time she sees me. Maybe because she wants Brody for herself, and Brody hasn’t fully given up despite me turning down his proposition to share a tent before the trip started.
“I don’t think it was an algorithm that put us all together,” Maverick tells Emmett as I rinse my hair. “And even if it was, it can’t predict who will fall in love.”
“So why sign up?” I ask as I squeeze some conditioner onto my palm and start working it through my hair.
He shrugs. “Sounded fun. Less fun when I met the other guys. No offense, Emmett.” There’s something very cool about this guy, both in the sense of trendiness and in his vibe. He comes across as chill with just about everything, and now I understand why he wasn’t fazed by picking up a handful of sand, complete with scorpion, and tossing it away.
