Page 82 of Chasing Hope

“Turn the wheel all the way to the right. You can drive up the small embankment.”

“Into the trees?” I squeal.

Matteo bites the inside of his cheek before saying slowly, “There’s no trees to the right.”

I look out the window. “Oh.”

“Any more protests?”

I climb into the driver’s seat, cussing him out beneath my breath. “And he callsmesassy.”

“Heard that.”

“Maybe I wanted you to!” I snap back.

“Are you hungry, Dove?”

“No! And if you say I’mhangryI’ll get out of this truck and show you what hangry looks like.”

“Absolutely hangry,” he mutters.

Turning in the driver’s seat, I peer out the back window, but I don’t spot him. It isn’t until I lean over the middle console, looking in the right side mirror, that I see a part of his shirtless back, crouched behind the tire, mud flying behind him.

Wrinkling my nose, I call out, “I hope you’ll clean yourself up before getting back in.”

“In my own car?”

“You’ll reek.”

“You offering to wash me, Dove?”

Maybe I am hangry, because why does my stomach hollow out at the thought?

I grunt a non-committal noise, but it isn’t long before Matteo’s calling out, “Give it a little gas. Turn the wheel all the way to the right!”

Putting the truck in drive, I gently push down on the gas, only for the same sound of the tire spinning in the mud to fill the air, the engine chugging along as it tries its hardest.

“A little more, V!”

Pushing down farther on the gas, the truck lurches forward right as Matteo yells, “Fuck!”

With wide eyes, I quickly throw the truck into park and leave it on the embankment, jumping out. “What happened? Are you okay? Did?—”

My words die off as I round the back of the truck and find Matteo pushing himself out of the mud pile we were stuck in. With a frown, he lifts his dirty hands, scooping mud off his chest before flicking it out to the side.

I lift my hand, biting my fist to stop myself from laughing, but then I think better of it. This man has teased me mercilessly for the past eight hours.

I let my laugh spring free.

“Don’t fucking say a word,” Matteo growls, his body covered head to toe in mud.

The clear frustration wafting off him is what truly sets me off. My chuckle turns into deep belly laughter. Matteo glowers at me through the mud on his face, but the sight makes me lose it all over again.

“Why do you look like you’re wearing a Bigfoot costume?” I howl.

“Dove,” he growls out, a low warning.

Wiping the tears from the corners of my eyes, I double over, clutching my stomach. “Oh my god, please go back on the trail! I bet you’d end up on the news!”