Page 107

So, I do for another minute, maybe two, before she splashes me directly in the face and swims away laughing.

We stay until the sun shifts behind the trees and most of the pool slips into shade.

By then we’ve been in the water twice, taken skinny dipping to a whole other level, and spent the better part of an hour stretched out on the rocks while the sun dried our skin. Ruby is curled against my side now with her head on my chest and one arm draped across my stomach. Every so often her fingers move absently against my skin, like she doesn’t even realize she’s doing it.

I look up through the branches overhead and listen to the river moving beside us.

We’ve talked about a hundred stupid things today and nothing important. No album. No tour rumors. No trying to figure out what we’re doing or where any of this is headed. I didn’t realize how much I needed a day that didn’t ask anything from either of us until I had one.

Ruby shifts closer when a breeze moves through the trees, and I run my hand slowly along her back. I’m in no hurry to get up, and judging by the way she settles against me, neither is she.

Another ten minutes pass before she finally lifts her head. “We should probably start back before we have to spend the night.”

I glance toward the trail. “I’m pretty sure you’d only last until you got hungry.”

“I’m already hungry.”

“Exactly.”

She laughs and pushes herself up onto one elbow. “If we wait much longer, you’re carrying me back.”

“I can do that.”

Ruby studies the climb toward the trailhead, then looks at me again. “You’d make it five minutes before regretting every decision that brought you to this moment.”

“Have a little faith.”

“I have plenty of faith. I’m also aware there’s a hill.”

I laugh, catch the back of her neck, and pull her down for a kiss before we finally make ourselves get up.

The hike back takes longer than it did coming in, mostly because neither of us seems interested in setting any kind of pace. Ruby steals the last of my water halfway up and drinks enough that there’s barely anything left when she hands the bottle back.

“You’re generous.”

“I left you some.”

I tip it upside down and manage one swallow. “Very thoughtful.”

She smiles and keeps walking.

A little farther up, the trees open enough to give us another view of the river below. I stop beside her, but before I can say anything, Ruby turns, catches the front of my shirt, hugs me, and I forget whatever I was going to say.

By the time we reach the truck, the light has softened, and my legs are pleasantly tired. Ruby drops her bag into the back and leans against the passenger door for a second.

“You did good today.”

I look over at her. “With the hike?”

“With all of it.” Her smile is softer now. “This was a really good day.”

Something warm settles low in my chest. I step between her knees where she’s leaning against the truck and put my hands at her waist.

“Yeah,” I say. “It was.”

The next afternoon, I’m at rehearsal when our manager calls.

We’ve spent most of the day going over two new songs, and I’m halfway through changing a guitar string when our bassist puts his phone on video mode.