“Um, sure.” I fumble for my phone. When I give it to him, ourhands brush against each other. I point to the landscape behind me with a grin, going for a goofy over serious portrait, and he takes a few shots before handing the phone back to me.
“Well, thank you for that,” I say as a warm breeze picks up around us. I pull my hat back on to shield myself from the sun.
“You’re welcome. And happy birthday, again.” He smiles then holds my gaze for a bit too long. He looks like he’s about to say something then glances at his watch instead. “I should probably head back soon. We’ve got some trust-building exercises to get to.”
“Like, falling into each other’s arms and stuff?” I tease.
“No. Human centipede.”
“Oh mygod.” I let out a hard, shocked laugh. “How do you say that with a straight face, you weirdo?”
He grins. “I was adopted by uptight British people, what can I say?”
That takes me aback.Adopted. Wait. “Your parents let you keep your Korean last name, then?”
“No,” he says, shaking his head. “I actually found out who my birth mother was a few years ago, after my parents passed.” A beat. “Car accident.”
The blood drains from my face. “Both of them?”
He nods. “Yeah. It’s okay. Well, no, it’s not. But that’s what you say. Anyway, had a big soul-searching thing and met my birth mother. Added her surname to mine since we’ve become closer.”
“Oh, wow. That’s incredible. And I’m so sorry about your parents.” I hesitate before I say, “I’ve also lost both my parents. Kind of. My dad left and my mother died when I was a child.”
Daniel’s shoulders slump slightly. “Oh, Christ. I’m so sorry, love.”
The “love” slips out of him so warmly, so full of sincerity, that it doesn’t even catch me off guard. I know British people say it all the time, but the naturalness of it isn’t lost on me. And the instantcomfort I feel isn’t lost on me, either. There’s an understanding between us—a shared grief.
I squeeze his arm without thinking. “Thank you.”
“Orphan club—not the best club,” he says ruefully. And then he puts his hand over mine, a beat longer than expected.
“Maybe the worst club,” I say, trying to cover up the intense beating of my heart with a smile. When our hands separate, mine is tingling and I can tell he’s feeling something, too—he clears his throat and runs his hand through the back of his hair.
“Well, death talk. An amazing way for me to end a casual conversation, yeah?” He laughs. “It was great bumping into you here, Cassia. Shall I help you down?”
“Yes, thanks,” I say, trying not to sound breathless like a goddamned damsel.
He clambers down first, sliding his body down, hanging on briefly with his hands, then hopping off.
“Ugh, you make it look so easy.”
Looking up, he smiles. “I’m here, you got this.”
The reassurance sends a zing into my spine. “Easier said than done, bucko.”
“Just sit on the edge and I’ll get you from there.”
I scoot over to the edge, my legs dangling. Then, with no-nonsense swiftness, he grabs hold of my calves, his grip unyielding, and pulls me down so that I slide right into him—my ass resting on his forearms, his face almost pressed into my chest.
“Welp,” I say with a nervous laugh.
He drops me quickly but gently. “Sorry, probably not the most graceful way.” His cheeks are a little red.
“No, thank you, I would have been stuck up there forever otherwise.” I also feel my own cheeks heat up. God, the desert is stupidly hot.
Daniel holds out his water bottle to me, reading my mind.
I take a sip, and when I move to close the cap, he takes it from me and puts his mouth where mine was seconds ago. And he keeps eye contact with me while he does it. My mouth goes dry, and I resist grabbing the bottle back from him.
