Total pages in book: 166
Estimated words: 160042 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 800(@200wpm)___ 640(@250wpm)___ 533(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 160042 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 800(@200wpm)___ 640(@250wpm)___ 533(@300wpm)
However, as soon as he brings me down, my knees tremble and give out, and I have to hold on to him for balance. I fist his T-shirt and crane my neck up to look at him. “W-Why are we stopping?”
His fingers dig into my waist as he replies, “Because we need to make camp.”
“Camp?”
“For the night.”
I blink and grab his T-shirt harder. “We’re… we’re staying here?”
“Yes.”
“But I…” I look around as if I’ll find something other than the woods surrounding us. “Can’t we just keep going?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
His chest moves with a breath as he says, “Because Rocky needs his rest.”
“But I—”
“And you do too.”
I pull at his T-shirt, trying to get through to him. “But I’ve never gone camping before.”
Another breath while his features stay as cool as ever. “Well, you better get used to it because Black Rock’s still a few days away.”
“Wait, what?”
“And we’ll be ‘going camping’ every night until then.”
“But…” I go up on my tiptoes. “It can’t be that far away. It can’t—”
“It’s not,” he assures me. “But we’re taking the scenic route.”
“What?” I shriek.
He jerks his chin at something behind me and deadpans, “You can wash up in the lake when you’re ready and there’s a bush behind you when you wanna go pee.”
“I’m not peeing in the bushes!” I say, shrieking again. “I’m not… This is a joke, right? It has to be. What century is this? Why did we have to take the scenic route or—”
He shifts on his feet, shifting me with him as he says, his eyes flicking back and forth between mine, “There are no asshole cops here that you can turn to for help. Nothing but bears and wolves for miles. Wild animals that’ll tear into you and leave you for dead the moment they catch your scent. So we’re takin’ the scenic route because your only safe bet in these woods is sticking close to me. And if you’re as smart as you think you are, this time, you’ll stay exactly where I put you. No ropes. No drugs. But most importantly, no lies.” Then, straightening up, “Welcome to your first adventure.”
Fire burns bright and hot between us.
Orange embers flicker in the air, lighting up the night, casting burning shadows on his face. On his entire body, making it glow.
He looks to be in deep thought, his eyes staring into the flames. I can see them dancing in his eyes. If I tried, I could almost convince myself that he himself is made of fire. With lava flowing in his veins and flames flickering just beneath the surface.
We’re having dinner right now that he cooked while I watched him from the log that I’m perched on. I also watched him take Rocky’s saddle off and unload the saddlebags before tying Rocky to the tree behind him. He combed Rocky’s mane, then massaged his back while whispering sweet nothings in his ear. All I heard was the low tones of his rough voice, hypnotizing enough that I couldn’t take my eyes away. He gave Rocky his feed and put out a bowl of water for him before moving on to our dinner.
But first, he gave me a pill.
He said it was for my pain, and I believed him. Because he’s right: There’s nowhere for me to run, so he didn’t need to drug me. Besides, if he wanted to, he could’ve found a different way. Plus, he said he wouldn’t lie to me. And he wasn’t. Hours later, I’m still awake and my pain has retreated into the background.
Even though neither of us has eaten all that much, I can’t help but think this is the very first meal we’ve shared despite being together for three days now. Before this, I’d either miss meals because I was sleeping, or he’d leave a plate for me on the nightstand with him nowhere in sight.
I don’t know why it feels so monumental, but it does: our first meal together.
“I’ve imagined this before,” I blurt out. Then quickly add, “Foolishly.”
He’s on the opposite side of me, sitting on a log of his own with his thighs sprawled and his elbows resting on them, his hands holding the paper plate with his untouched dinner. At my words, he lifts his eyes and focuses on me. “Imagined what?” Then, he adds much like me, although in a drawl, “Foolishly.”
I shift on my seat, my own dinner plate in the lap of my dress. “This. Having dinner. With you.”
If he finds this surprising, my revelation, he doesn’t show it. His features remain unmoved and glowing as he repeats, “With me.”
I exhale sharply. “With Bo.”
Something flashes through his face, tightening up his features for a second.
“I mean, of course, stupidly,” I add before he can say anything.
“Yeah, you said that.”
“There were times when,” I find myself divulging, “I’d sit down with my food and read your letter.”