“No?” One brow lifted.
“I’m not taking your hat.”
He let out a soft laugh. “Why? Out of spite?”
“Because...” I don’t know how to accept your help without feeling like I’m going backward. “Because I don’t want to.”
He tilted his head, considering me.
Then he eased the cap back onto his head. “Let me know if you change your mind.”
No push. No pressure. Just space.
I didn’t know what to say to that.
And before I could fumble out a simple thank you, I realized how quiet it was. In chasing Morty’s hat, we’d wandered well off the trail—and the rest of the group was already nearing the arch.
Without another word, I turned back toward the path. Noah fell into step beside me.
It was supposed to be the shortest hike of the day, but the heat and sand made every step feel heavier than it should’ve. A bead of sweat-slicked sunscreen slid into my eye, stinging like hell, but I kept going. I didn’t stop. Didn’t complain.
Still hadn’t thanked him.
Noah didn’t push. Didn’t fill the silence. And that somehow made it worse, because it wasn’t coldness. It was calm. Like he’d already shifted gears and turned his thoughts elsewhere.
Which only made me feel guiltier.
“I…” I started, my voice scratchy from the heat.
Noah glanced over. Just patient.
I scrambled for something—anything—that wasn’t sorry I was a jerk.
“Is your mom having fun?”
Not quite an apology. But it was something.
“I think she is. Babs is good for her.”
“Babs is good for everyone.” I exhaled, and a little of the tightness in my chest eased.
Noah could have gone ahead, but instead, he’d adjusted to my pace, which, thanks to my sandals, was a reluctant shuffle at best.
“Are you having fun?” he asked.
“I am,” I said, barely stopping myself before admitting I had had the most fun with him. But… “I didn’t expect our group to be so…colorful.” I forced a laugh.
“They are, aren’t they?”
Already, he was willing to let things go back to normal, willing to move on if I was. I really, really owed this man some sort of explanation. I wish I knew what that explanation was.
I’m sorry for being such a bitch. Just say it, Luna!
In the distance, I could see Josie holding her phone in front of her, talking into it like an on-the-scene reporter.
“I hope I’m like that when I’m that age. Healthy enough to travel,” I said instead.
“And smart enough to be open to new ideas—to learn new things.”
