Reaching out, I put a hand on her shoulder to stop her. She jerks it away and turns to me, raising one finger and waggling it at me. “No, no. I’m not done walking yet.”
I give her a sheepish look, remembering when I did the same thing to her a few hours ago. “All right, you’ve made your point. It was rude when I did that to you.”
“You’re damn right it was rude,” she says, starting back up the trail. “But don’t think I’m fishing for an apology because I’m not. You’re an abrasive person, and that’s fine. I couldn’t care less. It’s not my job to fix you. We just have to survive the next few hours together, and hopefully, with any luck, we’ll be saying goodbye by supper time, never to see each other again.”
“Abrasive? I’m not abrasive,” I tell her. “You’re just not used to anyone actually being honest with you.”
Paige scoffs. “Oh, is that what you call it?”
“Yeah, because that’s the truth. I’m honest, and some of the things I’ve said have pushed buttons you don’t like tohave pushed. I’ve made you ask yourself questions you don’t want to ask, which has pissed you off.”
She spins on her heel and pokes me on the chest. “You’re damn right you pissed me off. But it’s not because you’re making me question myself. It’s because you don’t have the first clue what you’re talking about, and yet, you think you know better about my life than I do. I’ve had just about all the mansplaining I can take for one lifetime, so if you don’t mind, just shut the hell up.”
She glances at my lips, then glares at me, and I can tell she doesn’t know whether she wants to slap me or kiss me. She lifts her hand to poke me again, but I grab her wrist. “Don’t.”
“What? Am I annoying you?” Her chest heaves and she straightens her back.
Lowering my face to hers, I say, “Yeah. You’re annoying me.”
Pulling her hand away from me, she says, “Good.”
Then she turns around and keeps going, leaving me more furious and turned on than I have ever been. The thoughts racing through my head are not ones that should be there, as I watch her from behind. I want to spin her around, press her up against a tree, and give her a kiss that’ll set this jungle on fire. I also want to argue with her and piss her off even more than I already have. Since neither of those options are going to get us anywhere, I say nothing and keep my damn hands to myself.
By the time we reach the top, we’re both drenched in sweat, our clothes clinging to us. I’m exhausted and impressed that she had it in her to make it this far without stopping. I’d never admit either of those things to her, but they’re both true. We stand at the top of the mountain, the bright sunlight beating down on us.
I quickly spot the island directly to our north, but don’tsee any signs of the research station. Not wanting to give her the bad news just yet, I wait while she walks around holding her cell phone up to test for a signal. Finally, she lets out a sigh, her shoulders dropping. “Nothing. Are we where you thought we were?”
My heart sinks a little, but I pull my binoculars from the backpack anyway, just in case. Holding them up, I focus in on the shore and slowly sweep them from one side of the island to the other. “Nope.”
“Perfect,” she mutters. “Now what?”
I lower the binoculars and look down at her. “We come up with a new plan.”
“Awesome.”
“Hey, I told you I wasn’t sure.”
Holding up one hand to shield her eyes, she scans the horizon. “Wait? What about that island way out there? Could that be it?”
I follow her finger, then look through the binoculars again, only to see that it looks every bit as undeveloped as this one. Shaking my head, I say, “No.”
“Can I have a look?” she asks, holding her hand out for the binoculars.
“Sure,” I tell her, passing them to her and sitting down on a nearby rock to rest my legs. “Knock yourself out.”
Paige makes a slow circle, then lowers the binoculars. “Oh my God. There’s nothing here. Not one lousy boat. Not one tiny village. Nothing. Just … trees and beaches and water for miles.”
“Someone will come. Eventually.”
“How eventually?” she asks. “Like weeks from now? Months? Years?”
“It won’t be years,” I answer. “It could be months though.”
She holds the binoculars up again.
“There’s no use,” I tell her. “You’re right. There’s nothing out there.”
“I can see the plane from here.”
