Tears prick my eyes as I swipe my arm across my face, blinking rapidly to keep the droplets from falling. I haven’t spoken to the Banks since that disaster of a talk show, and even though I’m mad at them, even though I want to spend at least a few minutes yelling at them … I miss them. I miss my old life. I miss Maxine.
“Chin up,” X says, reaching out to sweep a stray tear from my cheek with his knuckles. “Exercise helps release endorphins.” He pauses briefly and lets his grin morph into something wildly sexy and brimming with self-confidence. No wonder my sister’s in love with him. “Either that or you’ll be panting and sweating so hard that you’ll forget to be sad.”
“Oh, fantastic,” I drawl, just before Maxx reaches out and grabs my hand.
“Let’s do this,” he says, and even though I shouldn’t be gaping at him the way I am, it happens. And I feel so guilty. And yet, before we even hit the actual trail, I’m smiling.
The curving road that leads toward the toll booth separates us from the woods, so Maxx and I pause there for a moment as we wait for a couple of cars and an RV to pass. He keeps hold of my hand until we’re across, releasing it to reach up and run his palm over his hair.
“I have a tendency to set a quick pace, so if it’s too much for you, just let me know.”
I nod and fall into step beside him, climbing a slight incline before the path curves to the right. We end up coming out at another road and going underneath a bridge. I’m just glad that Maxx knows where he’s going because I’d be lost as hell out here.
“The trail starts just ahead,” he says, pointing up a gravel road toward a sign that leads into the woods. “It’s a part of the Pacific Crest Trail, but we’re only going to hike a small portion of it.”
I huff out a breath, acting like my heart isn’t already pounding and I’m not already sweating. I try to surreptitiously check the Fitbit to see how far we’ve walked. Oh great, one fifth of a mile. And we’ve only got … five and four-fifths miles to go, roundtrip.
Damn you, Maxine, I think as I contemplate the idea of spending the next several hours in the heat, sweating and choking on my own spit, walking for fun. Like, who does that? Only crazy people and Pacific Northwest natives.
“If you get tired or you just want to turn around for whatever reason, let me know. No judgement.” He looks back at me, smiling still, looking stupid handsome and athletic and confident, like he’s done this a million times before. “But, if you tough it out, you’ll get to see an awesome waterfall at the end.”
“Is it worth it?” I ask skeptically, and Maxx laughs, the sound echoing around the empty road.
“It’s worth it, I promise,” he says, and then he takes my hand again and I know for a fact that if he didn’t belong to Maxine—the most important person in the world to me—that I would’ve fallen for him. Hard. Irreversibly. Inextricably.
Alas, some things are just not meant to be.
Two miles into the hike and I’m hating it as much as I knew I would. I’d much rather be back at Danyella’s, lounging in her hot tub and drinking a bottle of stolen champagne from her parents’ extensive selection of alcohol.
Then again, it’s giving me a chance to get to know Maxx which is interesting.
“So, do you ever call Chasm by his real name?” I ask, just as Maxx wraps up a tale about how he, as a fourteen-year-old asshole, got twelve-year-old Parrish and Chasm to help him steal his father’s credit card so they could buy a bunch of a pay-to-win crap on a stupid app. Needless to say, it didn’t go well for any of them.
“Kwang-seon?” he queries, and then grins again. He grins a lot, Maxx does. He’s always smiling, and when he talks, he gets animated. Also, even though we’re slowly climbing in altitude, he isn’t panting or sweating. Me, on the other hand, I feel like I’ve gone swimming in a sweat bath. My bangs are plastered to my forehead and I’m sure I don’t smell great. “Nah, not much. Unless his dad’s around. If he even gets a whiff of the word Chasm, he practically shits himself.”
Chasm’s dad … I have yet to meet the man, but I’m curious. Who leaves their son in another country for nine years and barely visits him? He sounds like a dick.
“What about your parents?” I ask, huffing and puffing as we come around a corner and I groan at the sight of yet another incline. To be fair, the scenery is stunning. The trees keep us shaded from the sun, and every now and again, I get a peek between them at the valley below. I’ve already seen three garter snakes and more birds than I can count.
