And I’m here for it.
“How do you do it?” he asks, leaning in until our faces are only inches apart. His fingers rise half an inch higher before sliding back down towards my knees in a slow, torturous movement.
“Do what?” I whisper.
He brushes his nose along mine as his fingers make their way up again. “How do you make me feel like all of my secrets are safe with you?”
I put my hands over his, stopping his path along my thighs. But I also press my forehead to his because I’m not as strong as I thought I was, and resisting him is turning out to be impossible. “It’s the river,” I breathe.
He shakes his head, and the movement brings his mouth up against mine. “No. It’s you.”
I can almost taste him as I slide my hands up his arms and to his neck. Getting close to him is dangerous, but I know what he means about secrets. I’ve told this man more than I’ve ever told anyone, and I feel so much lighter for it. But can I trust my heart—trustmyself—with a man so tied to Hollywood? I want to. But I’m not sure I can. “Derek…”
“Derek!” The frantic call breaks us apart right as Hunter comes rushing down the trail with a wild look in his eyes. “There you are!”
Whether it’s disappointment or relief, something heavy settles in my gut as I slowly stand, all too aware of the way Derek keeps his hands on me until I move out of his reach.
He looks…lost…as he stares at me. It’s almost like he’s empty now that he offered another huge secret, and he doesn’t know what to do. Until Hunter gets closer. Then Derek tightens his jaw, hardens his features, and pulls his shoulders back as he stands to greet his worried friend and assure him that he is perfectly safe.
I hate that he puts on a mask for his friend. I hate that he doesn’t have anyone to confide in. I hate that as I slowly follow the two men back toward camp, my logical brain reminds me that if I choose to connect myself to Derek, it will mean diving back into a world that would have destroyed me if I hadn’t gotten out.
As much as I’m coming to like Derek, I don’t know how to be a part of his life. Not without losing myself in the process.
But if I cut ties, what will that mean for him? Who will he trust then?
Chapter Twenty-One
Derek
“Wassneakingoffreallythe best idea, Derek?”
I scoff and don’t bother looking at Hunter behind me. I don’t know where I’m going. I just need to put some distance between me and Donovan before I go back and finish what I started. “Are you expecting someone to follow me down the beach and jump me when we’re alone?”
“Is that not what happened?” he asks in a grumble.
I roll my eyes. “You know that’s not what I meant. Your job is to protect me from danger.”
“Donovan Tate seems pretty dangerous to me.” Again, he growls out the words in a way that makes me wonder if he wanted me to hear his comment.
Stopping so suddenly that Hunter bumps into me, I turn and glare at him. We’re too close to camp now and within sightof at least half the group, so I keep my body language as relaxed as I can. Over Hunter’s shoulder, I can see Donovan meandering down the trail toward us, so I only have a minute to have this conversation. “You know nothing about her.”
He grunts in response.
“And nothing is going to happen with her, so you can back off. Okay?” My stomach twists, leaving me nauseous from the thought of saying goodbye to Donovan in two days.
I thought keeping a professional distance between us the last day and a half would help me fix my mindset when it comes to Donovan; she has good reasons to avoid the central aspects of my life. I can’t ask her to go back to a world that was so toxic to her. But every minute I spend with her, the pull toward her gets a little bit stronger, and if Hunter hadn’t shown up when he did…
Iwantedto kiss Donovan. More than I’ve ever wanted to kiss anyone. It took all my willpower to hold myself back and let her make the first move because I’mDerek Riley. Every action I take comes with a snowball effect of consequences rumbling toward me and the people around me. Until Donovan is willing to subject herself to the world she despises, I can’t take that step.
Which means I cannevertake that step. We have two more days on this river, and then I’m going to have to let her go and pretend she doesn’t know me better than literally anyone.
Running a hand through my hair, I grit my teeth as my thoughts rewind to the conversation I just had with Donovan. I shouldn’t have told her about my mom. She didn’t even ask, and I laid it all out for her like I haven’t spent the last twenty-five years trying to move past the day my life irrevocably changed. Trying to forget.
Trying to survive.
I shouldn’t have told her.
I shouldn’t have told her.
