“Details.” I grin—a joke is good progress right now.
He gives a little half laugh, shakes his head.
“As I was saying,” I go on, “in myvery extensive experiencewith all the wilderness guides I’ve encountered while on planet Earth, you are not only the most attractive, but also the most attentive. You alwaysknow exactly where everyone is at every single hour of the day—you anticipate when we’ll need rest breaks, and snacks, and water, and sunscreen, and bug spray, before we even realize those things ourselves. You don’t need the internet to tell you about the landmarks out here, or the terrifying night beasts—”
“Thenight beasts?!” Thorn interrupts, laughing despite himself.
“Yes, Thorn. The night beasts.” I’m laughing, too, but not too loudly—I can tell he feels like all eyes are on us right now and wants to keep whatever this is between us chill and out of sight. “You know about the night beasts, and even the day beasts, and you know about stargazing and waterfalls and how to do surgery on scraped-up hands without making your patient pass out from the pain.”
It’s possible I’m performing, just a little: that my instinct, when things get hard, is to try to make them fun instead—to make him forget whatever guilt trip he’s putting himself through right now.
Hopefully it’s working.
“What I’m saying is,” I go on, “even if youhavebeen a little more distracted than you’re used to, you are still incredibly attentive. Emma’s rope could have gotten tangled even if you’d been there, right? Trey handled it, and Emma’s fine.Matteois the one who dropped the ball, not you. It bothers me that he’s trying to make you feel guilty when he knows it isn’t your fault.”
I’m breathless when I finish.
And Thorn…is speechless.
My eyes have finally adjusted enough to see the outline of his profile, the dip of his lashes as he stares into the darkness.
“You give one hell of a pep talk, Sadie,” he finally says.
His fingers brush against mine. It’s the lightest touch, but I feel like we’ve just bridged a canyon-sized gap, finding our way back to each other after the afternoon forced us apart.
“I’ll be here all night!” I reply, like I’m some sort of stand-up comic.
It’s part defense mechanism, part invitation; it’s code forI want to touch so much more than your hands right now.
As if he can hear every word, he runs his palm up my arm, all the way up until his fingers graze my neck, then find their way into my hair. I inch closer, feel him do the same—but I can still sense him holding back, pulling away.
Maybe I was too quick to hope we could just move on. Today must have shaken him up even more than I realized.
“Get some good sleep, okay?” he says, his breath hot against my skin.
He plants one soft kiss on the curve of my jaw, slow and purposeful, lingering just long enough that I think hewantsto keep going, but can’t trust the voices in his head—Matteo’svoice in his head—telling him we’ve done too much already.
“See you in the morning,” I say as he slips out into the night, without me.
9:27 P.M. • DAY 7 • SADIE’S JOURNAL
Today was full of extremes: highs and lows, pleasure and pain, ice and fire (okay, not *literal* ice and fire, but Abby always says I love a poetic metaphor).
Highs/lows:
I rappelled down the side of a (literally quite high) cliff!!
Hit an emotional low while dangling from said cliff
Fought through it, finished rappelling, not sure I’ve ever been so proud of myself
Pleasure/pain:
This morning in the waterfall cave with Thorn was one of the most romantic things I’ve ever experienced in my ENTIRE LIFE
Tearing a gash through my hand while descending the cliff was one of the most *painful* things I’ve ever experienced (but the pain of Thorn doctoring me up afterward was even worse)
Ice/fire:
