Page 71 of River & Rue

The gut punch of his rejection was a perfectly normal response to being left tits out in the shower. Nothing to do with him specifically. Plenty of men have bodies that double as instruction manuals for involuntary ovulation, right? River just happened to be the one washing my hair.

Since he didn’t tease me about it this morning, he obviously understands it was a temporary lapse in judgment on my part. I’m grateful for his maturity and restraint. Very commendable of him.

There’s no reason I should be this nervous to knock on his door. Unless… what if he regrets what he said at breakfast? Or what if it took him a while to process last night, and now that he has, he doesn’t want to be around me anymore? He did leave rather abruptly after breakfast, and that was over three hours ago. I haven’t heard a peep from his cabin since he showered, which is odd since his laundry is outside. Maybe he’s been quiet on purpose to avoid me.

Who am I kidding? Of course he doesn’t want to be around me. I’m too much. Everyone leaves eventually. Friends, boyfriends… Only Ivy has stayed. And here I am, hopelessly in lust with her brother and avoiding phone calls from the only person in my adult life who unconditionally loves me.

I’m never doing LSD again. Or any drug, for that matter. A bonfire doesn’t need napalm, and I’m perfectly capable of causing fires without accelerants. Metaphorically speaking. Also literally, I suppose, since I did almost burn the cabin down…

My internal freak-out is so consuming, I don’t register the creak and swish of the door until the wood disappears.

I blink at River.

The reality of him—shirtless, sleepy-eyed, smiling—sends my executive function on an unsanctioned break. My mouth hangs open. My raised fist hangs in the air a few inches from a bare pectoral.

His eyes flicker to my hand, and his smile grows. “Feeling combative? I’ll take a punch if you want, but can I recommend a slap instead? Your form isn’t all that great, and I don’t want you to break a finger.”

My laugh is a hundred decibels too loud, but at least it means my motor control has returned. I jerk my fist down and clasp my sweaty hands together.

“No punching or slapping required.” I belatedly notice his eyes seem extra bloodshot. “Did I wake you up? I woke you up. Sorry. I’ll just—” I hike a thumb over my shoulder and click my tongue like the lamest person ever.

I pivot, then freeze as his fingers curl gently around my arm. As he tugs me back to face him, his thumb sweeps over my elbow. I’m pretty sure the area isn’t considered an erogenous zone, but it sure as hell feels like one.

His hand falls away, and I pretend I don’t feel the loss of it. We’re friends now. Friends touch each other sometimes. Supportively. Platonically.

“I wasn’t sleeping. In fact, I was about to come see what you were up to.” His eyes twinkle with wry knowing. “What’s going on in your head?”

Just a little menty-b. Average Saturday vibes.

I swallow a hysterical laugh and clear my throat. “I wanted to do something to thank you for last night. If you’re not busy.”

His brows pinch together. “You don’t need to thank me. I loved taking care of you.”

Warmth blooms in the pit of my stomach. Flustered, I look down, and my gaze inadvertently latches onto the bulge in his shorts. Only now that I think about it, bulge isn’t accurate. What I’m seeing is too absurd for any acceptable dick descriptors. It’s a rotund ridge. Perhaps a tumid telescope.

Good grief, is it moving?

I wrench my gaze back to his face, blurting my embarrassment as an admonishment. “You’re making this awkward.”

His brows lift, a smile teasing his mouth. “Am I? Sorry about that. What’s my gift?”

I pull a set of keys from my pocket and hold them up so he sees the tiny bong attached to the ring.

As expected, his jaw drops. “You stole Kirk’s golf cart?”

Smirking, I tuck the keys away. “I didn’t have to. I merely suggested that, given my difficult night, he might want to let me borrow it this afternoon. I also suggested he pack me a cooler with snacks and drinks. I thought it would be cool to explore a bit. See the bigger art installations, maybe check out the Zen garden. If that doesn’t sound fun at all, you don’t have to come. No pressure or anything.”

River gives me the grin I’ve started to crave. His biggest and rarest, the right side higher than the left like his dimple is gravity. Full fang exposure. Lion-eyes shining, external creases emphasizing their glow.

When he braces an arm on the doorframe beside my head, at least a billion of my brain cells spontaneously combust. Even more disintegrate when he curves over me, all bare skin and messy man bun and oh-so happy trail.

Now this is looming done right. Major main character energy. Still villainous, though, because this level of sex appeal is criminal.

I snort at the thought.

“Rue?”

“Yes?”