I almost laugh. “You asked why I don’t date. I did, once. A few years into my new life, I met a guy on a trip who made me think I didn’t have to be alone.” I scoff. “I trusted him. Told him about my past. And when he tried to sell the story of Nova Tate’s mysterious downfall, I didn’t hesitate for a second to use my old connections to shut him down and ruin him.I could have stuck with a gag order, but I told my lawyer to destroy his credibility and force him out of his job. I went right back to the person I was, not caring what happened to anyone but myself.”
“You were protecting yourself.”
Snorting, I shake my head. “And what about with you?” I reluctantly look at him, taking in his controlled expression as he rows like a pro. “It’s not like I was a saint when we first met.”
The corner of his mouth lifts up. “You really weren’t that bad, especially under the circumstances.”
“I treated you like a dress-up doll.”
“Your privacy was in danger.” Relaxing his expression, he looks at me with an equal measure of pity and kindness. “Thank you for telling me your story, Donovan. A lot of things make sense now.”
“Now you see why I never want to be part of that world again.”
His gaze drops, a thoughtful look on his face now. “My world,” he says.
I thought him knowing would make this easier, but those two words feel like a knife to the gut, and I can only hope he doesn’t choose to twist it. “I’ve never hidden how I feel about Hollywood, Derek.”
He looks up, his thoughtfulness shifting into something different. Determination. “You’re also not good at hiding how you feel about me,” he says with a soft smile. And that’s all he says. With that observation, he turns his focus back to rowing and leaves the boat in silence until he pulls to shore below the sign welcoming us to Cataract Canyon.
He’s not wrong, which is quickly becoming a problem. Telling Derek my history was supposed to scare him off, but he seems just as interested in me than ever.
And I don’t know what to do with that.
Chapter Twenty
Donovan
Derekkeepssurprisingme,though at this point I should expect the unexpected from him. It started at the Cataract Canyon registry, when Derek took one look at the word “DANGER” in big red letters on the sign and told me to row the rest of the day. I was going to suggest I row at least the next couple of miles, since the river from that point on is full of rapids, but I thought I was going to have to fight him on it.
He watched me row the rest of the afternoon, asking questions about each rapid and why I made the choices I did, and never once did he ask to row again. I expected him to attempt rowing at least one or two of the smaller rapids today, but he seemed perfectly content to sit in front of me and simply watch, which goes against his whole reason for being on the trip. I thought he wantedexperiencewith rowing rapids.
Our conversations on the boat, few and far between, centered on the mechanics of rowing through whitewater. He didn’t bring up my past, I didn’t bring up his perfectionism, and neither of us talked about how we only have a couple of days left on the trip and likely won’t see each other after that.
Opposite to his time on the boat, when we reached last night’s camp, Derek talked to what felt like everyoneexceptme. He had his notebook in hand, taking notes, and made the rounds through the group, making what looked like riveting conversation with each person. I swear, some of them looked like they’d had their lives changed by their discussions with Derek. He reminded me of Pops and the way he connects to everyone he meets, and I couldn’t stop watching him interact with the other guests.
And in the morning, he helped the WanderLove gals extract several spiders from their gear after their screams woke the camp. He didn’t have to do that, especially after what happened with the scorpion the first night, but Derek played the hero with a bright smile, then helped Mason top off the air in the boats.
He’s doing exactly what I hoped he would do—AKA avoiding me and letting me live my life in peace—and it’s driving me nuts, which is why I’m ignoring all sense of reason this afternoon and marching up to Derek before he can help Farah and Thiago with dinner.
“Come with me,” I say as a greeting, wincing when I hear the commanding tone in my voice.
Derek lifts an eyebrow. “Okay?”
“If you want,” I add before he thinks I’m completely terrible. It’s probably too late for that. There has to be a reason he’s been avoiding me, and his attitude toward me must have changed when I told him about my past. I should let it go—lethimgo—butI can’t.
Not yet.
Though he glances over the beach, as if trying to figure out where I might take him, he slides his hands into his pockets and nods. “Lead the way.”
“Great. Uh, this way.” I head downriver toward a trail that will take us close enough to see a couple of tomorrow’s big rapids, which is one of the reasons I love stopping at this camp. I get plenty of time to prep for our most exciting day.
Most stressful day.
I’m not too worried about Big Drop 1, but Drops 2 and 3 in this water level could get tricky. I won’t be able to see them well from this trail, but I can get an idea of what I’m facing before we properly scout them tomorrow. And since I need a reason for bringing Derek out here, I can explain the first drop to him, even if he won’t be rowing tomorrow.
Really, I just want to be alone with him again, even if that’s a terrible idea.
When I reach a good vantage point, I come to a stop and gather my hair over one shoulder, looking at the water instead of the man next to me. He’ll be waiting for me to tell him why I wanted him to come, but I don’t have a good answer for him. Maybe we can just stand here in silence so I don’t have to be jealous of all the people he talked to yesterday. If he’s here with me, he’s not talking to them.
