Page 145 of Risking the Pucking Defense

It’s stupid. When I told him I trusted him, I meant it. But trusting him with my body is one thing; trusting him with my past is another thing entirely. But if he’s serious about us, then I owe him the truth.

I pull my cell from my purse while I wait for him and reply to a few emails, marking more than a handful as unread to deal with later.

With Anthony giving us his approval, I’m even more determined than ever to prove my worth at work. I’m not going to give him any reason to doubt his trust in me, or anyone else for that matter.

So what, Hayden and I are in a relationship—if that’s what this is? It doesn’t stop me from being kick-ass at my job.

Only a few minutes later, he’s back and messing around with whatever he bought in the trunk.

We stopped at my place before making a pit stop here, where he demanded I dress in something I can move easily in with comfortable shoes. But he refused to tell me his plan and instead just swatted me on the ass and sent me to change.

When he first suggested spending the day together, I thought he meant at his apartment. I was more than happy with that. We didn’t even need to get dressed. But after he carried me into the shower and cleaned me up all over again, he demanded that I get dressed and then dragged me out of his apartment.

A few minutes later, he rejoins me in the driver’s seat and shoots me one of his panty-melting smiles.

How he hasn’t had sex in a while blows my fucking mind. I know he has women throwing themselves at him; I’ve seen it with my own eyes. What was he waiting for?

You, a little voice says, but I shut it down.

As amazing as it might feel, I can’t allow myself to believe things like that. It’s dangerous.

“So…are you going to tell me where we’re going yet?”

“Nope, but I got you a coffee to make up for it,” he says, passing me one of the takeout cups in his hands.

“Thank you,” I mutter as he takes off.

We chat away about the game last night and other unimportant things. Both of us are skirting around the serious stuff that we really need to discuss.

As we head out of town, I start to get clues to where we’re going, and I soon discover I’m right when he parks the car at Switzer Falls Trail.

“Hiking,” I muse, gazing around at the incredible scenery.

“Yeah. Is that okay?”

“Of course. I haven’t been here before.”

“Really?” he asks, excitedly.

“No. I’ve wanted to. Just never made the effort, I guess.”

“I think you’re going to love it. Come on,” he says, killing the engine and pushing the door open.

I follow his lead and meet him at the trunk, where he’s pulling a rucksack onto his back.

“Picnic?” I ask, suddenly understanding his stop at the store.

He smirks at me before taking my hand and tugging me toward a path.

“Come here a lot, huh?” I ask when he doesn’t so much as look at a map, just takes off into the trees.

“That obvious?” We walk side by side in silence for a few minutes before he speaks again. “It reminds me of being a kid. Rylee and I used to spend so much time in the woods. The greenery, the smells, they remind me of her and those endless days where we had no responsibilities, no pressure, no illness or hospital appointments, or treatment.”

“How old was she when she first got sick?”

“Fifteen.”

“Shit,” I hiss.