I bite my tongue so I don’t ask her to send those to Janie when we get back into cell service. I’m lucky I’ve still gone unnoticed, and something tells me Morgan won’t be as easily turned away as the others if she decides to start up a conversation with me. Still, leaving my phone with Janie means I can’t take my own pictures of Donovan, and since she isn’t on her cousin’s website, I’m going to be left with nothing but memories unless I can figure out who she is.
Clenching my jaw, which aches in protest, I pick up a stick and start peeling the bark off while I wait for Morgan and Zahra to move on and leave me on my own again. They’ve brought my thoughts back toDonovan, but now I’m thinking more about the way she ran her fingers through my hair earlier. How gently she touched my face, leaving my whole body reacting to her. I’ve never let myself be that vulnerable with someone before, and if Hunter hadn’t interrupted…
“Gah, I hate how pretty she is!” Morgan says with a little stomp of her foot, knocking me out of my imaginings. She glares at the picture on her phone as I grip my stick with both hands to keep my irritation at bay. “I would kill to have that kind of natural beauty, and she’s wasting it in places like this.”
“I love that she guides rivers,” Zahra counters. “She gives us girls a good name, you know?”
“Maybe if her name wasn’t so masculine,” Morgan mutters, rolling her eyes and making my protective instinct rise. “She should find a cuter nickname, something better thanDono.”
“Van?” Zahra wrinkles her nose. “No, that’s masculine too.”
Morgan’s eyes light up. “Oo, what about Nova?”
The stick in my hand snaps, and I let out a soft curse. But not because the women jump and look over at me, finally realizing I’m here. No. That name was the piece of the puzzle I was missing, and suddenly the picture is completely clear. Her hair is lighter than it used to be, and she’s not wearing the makeup I’m used to, but I can’t believe it took me this long.
Nova Tate.
I know who Donovan is.
Chapter Seventeen
Donovan
“Makethatalittlemore level if you can,” I tell Mason, pointing to the Dutch oven he just set in the fire pan. Inside is a cake for tonight, but the sand isn’t quite flat so the batter is thicker on one side. “We don’t want it to cook unevenly and—gah!”
Derek appears out of nowhere, scaring the crap out of me because he comes right in my face, leaning over the table between us and giving me a scrutinizing look. “Totally Off-track,” he says.
My stomach twists into a knot. In any other situation, that would be an irrelevant phrase, but Derek isn’t one to speak nonsense. I swallow, desperately hoping he’s a little brain damaged from the oar hitting him earlier and that those three words came out of his mouth at random. “What?”
“TreasureTrackers.”
The blood rushes from my face, leaving me dizzy.Oh no.
Derek’s lips twist up in a smile. “Time Switch.”
“Stop talking,” I whisper, hearing the pleading in my voice but knowing he won’t listen. Not when he looks so pleased with himself for figuring it out.
Thankfully, he drops his voice so only I can hear him. “My Sister’s a Spy.Rescue Dogs 3.From Fiona with Lo—”
Clapping a hand over his smirking lips, I round the table and loop my arm through his, tugging him to the Hopper trail and snatching the paddle as I go.
We’re going to need some privacy.
Veering off the trail instead of following it all the way to the buckets, I find a small break in the tamarisk trees and drag him into it. There’s not much space, and while what I really want to do is to run and never look back, this is as far as I’ll be able to go.
I’m never going to outrun my past, am I?
“Don’t,” I beg, and the word comes out breathless. “Don’t tell anyone.”
“Tell them what?” he replies, folding his arms. “That you’re almost as famous as me?”
“Was,” I counter. My heart’s racing, leaving me lightheaded. “When I was akid. That’s not me anymore.”
“Donovan, you were anactor. A good one!” His glee slowly fades as his eyes trail over me, far more examining than he’s ever done before. I feel exposed beneath his gaze. “This is why you’re afraid of me.”
It’s theonly reason, which makes this so much harder. If he had a different job—any job—we could be something. Tears prick my eyes, and when Derek’s expression shifts into worry, the tears come faster. “Don’t look at me like that,” I beg.
“Like what?” He runs a hand through his hair, and he seems to be truly processing this new information about me for the first time as hiseyebrows pull lower than ever. “Donovan,youwere one of the reasons I got into acting.” His words are barely audible by the end of that sentence, but they hit me with a force I don’t expect, leaving me trembling. “I loved your movies as a kid. They made me realize I could live a hundred different lives if I chose acting. That I could control my narrative when on a set. Do another take if it wasn’t perfect. My entire life is…” He exhales, dropping his hands to his sides and looking at me with eyes full of an unnameable emotion. “It happened because of you.”
