“Can I tell you something?” Hayden’s voice cuts through the hum of the water.
I glance at him, “Youwanna tellmesomething?”
“In my defense, you’ve talked nonstop. I haven’t had the chance.” He smirks, but his expression softens, shadowedby the moonlight filtering through the waterfall. “I’ve never brought anyone else here besides Ryder, and that was a decade ago.”
That hits me in the chest with more force than I expect.
“Really?”
He nods. “It’s the only place I have that feels untouched. Mine. After… everything. I didn’t want anyone messing with it. Didn’t want memories added to it that’d feel heavy later.” His eyes drift toward the cascade of water. “But with you, it doesn’t feel heavy. It feels…” He hesitates, swallows. “Right.”
I grip the blanket tighter, my heartbeat thundering in a way I can feel in my throat.
“I’m flattered, Hayden,” I say quietly. “Really.”
He doesn’t look at me. “I know Ryder is your person, or for better words, he’s claimed you. I’m not trying to change that or step on something that isn’t mine to step on.” His jaw tics. “I just… wanted you to know I care too.”
A warmth spreads through my chest—unexpected, confusing, but genuine.
I reach out and nudge his knee. “I know you care. You don’t have to prove anything to me. You’ve already done enough.” I motion around us.
He breathes out a shaky laugh. “Good. Was kind of losing my shit over that.”
We sit like that for a while, the sound of the waterfall masking every thought that tries to creep in. But the mountain air grows colder, sharper, and I shiver despite the blanket.
“You cold?” he asks.
“No,” I lie through chattering teeth.
He rolls his eyes, gets up, and wraps the second blanket around my shoulders like a cape. Then, unexpectedly, he rests his forehead against mine for a brief moment. A heartbeat. Two. Like he’s steadying himself.
I inhale sharply at the contact. The sincerity. The closeness, but before I can ask what that was about, he steps away and clears his throat.
“Come on,” he says. “I want to show you something else.”
“More?” I blink. “Damn, how long have you been planning this?”
“Two weeks.”
My chest tightens.
He leads me toward the far wall, where a narrow passage branches off the main cavern. It’s small, barely wide enough for a person to slip through, and the ceiling is low. The air is warmer back here, the sound of the waterfall muted. We squeeze through until the passage opens into a tiny alcove carved naturally into the stone.
Embedded in the rock are faint carvings. Weathered symbols, initials, and shapes that look like someone tried to leave a mark on time itself.
“What is this?” I whisper.
Hayden’s fingers graze the stone reverently. “I don’t really know, but we think they’re ancient markings, possibly thousands of years old.”
Hayden walks along the walls, hands brushing out andtracing some of the carvings. Everything about him has changed since being here. As if he can let loose and he’s safe doing so. Not having to watch over his shoulder every few seconds.
“You brought me here,” I say softly. “Why?”
He finally looks at me. “Because you deserve a place that feels safe, too.”
My throat thickens. I blink hard, fighting the burn behind my eyes.
The rumble from earlier booms again, this time louder. The ground beneath us trembles. Dust sprinkles from the cave ceiling, and Hayden instantly grabs my arm.
