“Can I bring anything?”
I hold her gaze for a second.
“Yeah,” I say.
“Dessert.”
Her smile widens slowly into a knowing grin.
“Careful,” she says. “You don’t know what you’re asking for.”
I glance at her once more before stepping back toward the four-wheeler.
“I have an idea.”
Things changed today. I’m not thinking about stopping this before it starts. It’s game on with Rainey.
Chapter 15
Rainey
Iam absolutely fine. Totally normal. Completely unaffected by the fact that I kissed Troy Bennett. Twice. And rode down a mountain wrapped around him like some kind of … outdoor survival television episode cliché.
I stand in the middle of my bathroom, staring at my reflection like it might offer guidance. No, it simply stares back at me with flushed cheeks and eyes that look … different. They are suspiciously hopeful.
“Okay,” I say, pointing at myself. “We are not doing this.”
This meaning spiraling. This meaning overthinking. This means reading into every single thing that just happened like it’s a sign from the universe.
It’s not.
Probably.
I turn back to the mirror and tilt my head, assessing. Makeup. Do I wear more? Less? None at all so I look like a carefree, naturally glowing woman who definitely did not just spend ten minutes debating mascara like it holds my future?
I pick up the mascara. Put it down. Pick it up again.
“Light,” I decide. “We’re going light. Effortless. Casual.”
Which is exactly what women say when they are absolutely not being casual.
Clothes are worse. I’ve changed twice already, which is two times more than I’d like to admit. The first outfit felt like I was trying too hard. The second felt like I wasn’t trying at all.
Now I’m standing here holding a third option and questioning every life decision that led me to this moment.
“Tighter says confident. Looser says relaxed.”
“Tighter also says you’re thinking about him.”
I drop the shirt onto the bed.
“Okay. Relaxed it is.”
I pull on something that fits well enough without announcing itself and step back, giving myself one last look.
It’s not perfect or polished. But… me. That has to be enough. It has to be.
The drive up the ridge feels familiar. I know the turns now. The way the road curves where the trees thin out, where the light shifts through the branches. I’m not gripping the wheel like I’m preparing for impact. I’m thinking about him. Which is arguably more dangerous.
