But I wasn’t lying when I told Donovan that messing up here feels big. Too big.
If I get behind those oars, if I make a mistake, I’m not sure I’ll be able to come back from that.
Thiago grins at me as he loads his arms up with food. “In fifty years of rowing, Pops never flipped a boat, and he always got nervous before the Drops.”
I lift my eyebrows. “Really?” Donovan hasn’t flipped a boat either, and suddenly I want to know if the Big Drops frighten her. Probably not. Donovan Tate isn’t intimidated by a bit of water.
Finished with his gathering, Thiago hops back to shore and speaks as he passes me. “It never hurts to try, no? That is the only way to learn.”
Unfortunately for me, itdoeshurt to try, and at this point, Donovan has stripped me of all the armor that used to keep my flaws safe from view. Now I’m more vulnerable than I’ve ever been.
Vulnerability is our greatest weakness.Maverick’s words ripple through me, and I only wish the second half of his opinion felt as strong as the first because I’m having a hard time seeing my vulnerability as an asset when it feels like there’s no way to move forward with Donovan without causing her pain.
But I’m not sure I’m ready to give up just yet. Glancing behind me, I watch Maverick as he helps Emmett disassemble their tent, and when he looks over and meets my eye, I make a quick decision.
The guy has an incredibly impressive degree that does, in fact, make him an expert in people and relationships, he’s right about one thing: I need help. If anyone can give me some pointers on figuring things out with Donovan, he can. And since there are few things I hate more than taking advantage of people, I start making a list of ways I could help boost WanderLove and get Maverick enough business to make his project thrive.
Liam once asked me if I was ever going to find more friends, and maybe it’s time I do.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Donovan
Ican’tdecideifI’m taking my time with rigging this morning because I want to be extra sure everything is secure before we hit the big rapids, or if my dedication is related to Derek. AKA doing whatever I can to avoid him. It’s probably a bit of both, but more so the latter reason.
Avoiding Derek is the last thing I want to do, but it’s a good idea. After what happened yesterday—almost happened—any space I can get from him is important unless I want to finish out this trip with some good old fashioned heartbreak. It might already be too late for that one.
As I triple check the dry bags holding everyone’s personal gear, ensuring they won’t go anywhere even if the boat flips, my eyes lift to the beach for the fiftieth time since I started rigging, finding Derek with ease. He and Maverick have been talking for at least twenty minutes by this point, off in a secluded part of the beach, and I’m desperate to knowwhat they’re talking about and why Maverick looks like he’s found his new hero in Derek Riley.
I mean, sure, most people look at Derek that way, but Maverick didn’t until this morning. Whatever they’re talking about, it seems to be something life-changing.
Why do I get the feeling that Derek does that for a lot of people?
Movement near Derek pulls my gaze, and I cringe when I catch Brody looking at me while he packs his day bag. He hasn’t come anywhere close to me since the hike the other day—since Derek threatened him—and I haven’t been the least bit disappointed by that. I do feel bad that almost everyone has shunned him, but that’s what he gets for being a sleazeball.
Though I shift my gaze away from the guy, I can still feel his eyes on me as I go back to ensuring everything is secured tight, shuddering as I do.
Derek has even made things with Brody better, and it’s getting harder to stick to my conviction that I need to walk away when this trip is over. Once again, I run through my reasons for keeping things professional: Derek is one of the most famous people in Hollywood. I’ll never be able to hide who I am. If I get back in the spotlight, I’ll turn back into the monster I was.
Won’t I?
What if Derek has enough goodness to counteract my response to fame?
What if I’ve healed enough that I won’t act in fear?
What if I’ll be okay?
“Hey, Donovan, where do you want this?”
Blinking, I reluctantly look up to find Brody standing a few feet away now. He’s holding my life jacket, which I intentionally left on shore with my water bottle. “Oh, you can leave it—”
“Definitely want this today, huh?” He steps onto the boat with the grace of a newborn giraffe, nearly knocking me out of my seat as the boatjolts under his feet. After a moment of flailing arms, he finds his balance and holds the jacket out to me.
I hold back a sigh and take it from him. “Thanks. It’ll be a minute before we shove off, so you can wait on the—”
“What are the chances I can hang on your boat today?” He crouches down, bringing his face way closer than I’d like as he smiles widely. “I’ve been dying to see the master at work, and what better time is there than now?”
Never, I want to say, but I bite my tongue. He might be genuine, and I should take the compliment for what it is. A lot of self-important guys like him barely acknowledge that a woman might be good at rowing in the first place, let alone call one a master. “Sorry,” I say as gently as I can. “We don’t take passengers on the gear boat.”
