Page 112 of Valley Girls
“I’m okay,” she managed on dry land.
“I’m really sorry,” he said, lightly touching her waist.
“It’s fine. It wasn’t you. Don’t worry about it,” she said, swinging her hair over her shoulder to gather it from where the lengths were plastered down her back. He still touched her waist, thumb rubbing against her skin.
“Did you just choke on the water?”
She bit her lip and shrugged, watching the river.
“Rilla,” he said softly.
She closed her eyes against the threat of tears. “Oh my god, I’m so embarrassed,” she chuckled, even as the tears dropped to her cheeks.
“Oh baby, come here.” He pulled her in against his chest, arms wrapped over her shoulders, squeezing her tight. His skin was cool from the water and she buried her face into him, letting the tears just run their course as he stroked her hair. Fuck that it was embarrassing. Walker made her feel like it was okay ... that she was safe. And somehow that made her cry a little harder.
“What it is?” he asked. “Are you sure I didn’t hurt you?”
“No. I ...” She pulled away and wiped her eyes. “It’s nothing. I mean, it’s not nothing. Back at home, before I came out here.” She took a deep breath and sniffed. “That complicated boyfriend? We ... fought.” Somehow, it felt so shameful to say it out loud. She shrugged. “It’s catching up with me, I guess.”
“Fought? Like, he hit you? Is that why you came out here?”
She nodded, biting her tongue to keep from explaining it wasn’t like that.
He ran his fingers through his wet hair and sat on the log where they’d laid their shirts. He patted the space beside him. “I’m sorry that happened to you.”
Rilla sat down, stretching her legs out on the sandy dirt. “Thanks.”
He leaned into her.
She rested against his shoulder and sighed. The sun shifted into the deep gold California haze—with the tinge of campfire and food on the dusty breeze.
And suddenly, she was okay. More than okay. Rilla kissed his shoulder and sighed happily. “Thanks.”
His fingers tightened on her side, sinking into her skin. They were still smudged from his drawing.
“Why don’t you want anyone to see your art?” she asked.
His chest tightened under her. “They’re private. And it’s not art.”
“But they are so good. They are. You don’t want to share them ever?”
He sighed. “I don’t know. I like doing it for me. Maybe, someday ...” He shrugged. “Maybe someday, it will be something that let’s me stay outside and working for myself. That’s really what I hope it will do. Make just enough money, my way, to be able to work on things I love. Maybe travel some more.”
“More?” she asked in surprise, thinking of Caroline’s Instagram. “Don’t you guys go all over the world?”
He shook his head. “No. No. I don’t go. Caroline does. We share an apartment in Denver in the winter, but she’s not there very often. I work as a guide there.”
“Oh. I had no idea.” Of course, that made sense, she just hadn’t thought of it. “So you guide in the winter and work here in the summer? Do you want to keep doing that?”
“I love this job. It’s been such an amazing summer ...” His smile was wide and genuine—a smile for himself. “This is my dream.”
She smiled. “Mine too.”
“Hey,” he said.
She tipped her chin up to look at him.
He smiled. “I like you.”
