Page 43 of 6 Clues Your Nemesis Loves You

She mumbles something unintelligible. I smile at her back.

As per Maggie’s request to see this area from my perspective, I planned this outing for us. The scenery around Windfall and Ruby Grove is always breathtaking—the majesty of the Rough Ridge Mountains, expansive forests, and cascading creeks—but I wanted to take Maggie somewhere special. And maybe romantic. Granted, we’re only out here as friends, but there are no rules that friends can’t visit a stunning waterfall together. If the scenery happens to be laden with romance, that’s just nature doing nature’s thing.

Following Maggie, I move slowly along the narrow cliff path. She quits threatening me, but her legs shake slightly as she walks. Normally I’m loose and carefree on a hike, but my body is tense, my focus zeroed in on her steps. I watch her for any falter, ready to grab her if she stumbles. The fact that she’s out here, scaring herself on this challenging trail, adds more pressure to my straining chest. The only reason she’s here is to help me get my mind off my father.

She wavers on a step.

In seconds, my arm is latched around her waist, her body safely tucked against my chest. “Careful there.”

I feel how hard she’s breathing. She clutches my forearm, giving it a surprising squeeze. “This thing could double as a steel bar.”

If I keep her pressed this close, so could the situation in my hiking pants. “Nothing will happen to you while we’re out here.”

She shifts her head, nudges her nose against my beard. “I’m not so sure about that.”

There seems to be more meaning infused in those breathy words. I don’t care to decipher her intent at this juncture. “I’ve got you, Mags. Trust me to look after you.”

She nods, and her nose brushes my cheek again. Just her goddamn nose, barely grazing my beard, and tingling spreads along my scalp. I ease her forward. Her next step is steadier. Two more, and her legs are no longer shaking. She’s steadier because she knows I won’t let her fall, and a chuff of pleasure fills me.

At the end of the narrow cliff trail, we breach the forest edge. She doesn’t yell at me as she threatened. I breathe easier, no longer worried about her stumbling. Fall has painted the remaining leaves in a kaleidoscope of color, those on the ground crunching under our boots as we hike.

Maggie slows her stride until we’re side by side. “That was scary but maybe fun.” Her cheeks are rosy, kissed by the pleasantly cool air. There’s pride in her lifted chin.

“You’re scary at times,” I say, mesmerized by her beauty as usual, “but maybe a bit fun.”

She laughs. “Not as scary as your serial killer note.”

“No clue what you’re talking about. I left no such note.”

“Right.” She gives me a saucy wink. “And you had nothing to do with the other thirteen notes on my windshield.”

“That’s a specific number. Have you been counting?”

“I don’t know,” she says quickly. “It was just a guess.” She’s wearing a cute green woolen hat. Although I can’t see her ears, I’d bet the tips are burning red.

Enjoying flustering Miss Maggie Edelstein, I move behind her and lean toward the side of her head. “Are those mysterious notes saved in a special shoebox?”

Her jaw firms. “You’re gunning for a silent treatment.”

“Did you put them in an album with pressed dried flowers and doodled hearts?”

She swivels and jabs a finger at my chest. “Quit it with the flirting, Lennon.”

“I’m not the one who falls asleep after pressing lipstick kisses to random notes.”

She makes a grrrrr sound and stomps ahead of me. I laugh under my breath, hoping no bears are around to hear her growl at me. They might think she’s part of their pack.

“I love writing those notes,” I tell her as we resume hiking. There’s no point lying to Maggie. I actually love being honest with her. About my life. My desires. Using my real name instead of my alias. All I want from here on out is honesty in my life. “I think about you all day, wondering if they made you smile.”

She darts a quick glance at me, questioning, like she’s not sure if I’m still teasing her. Her expression softens. “They always make me smile. Because we’re friends,” she adds.

“Definitely because we’re friends,” I say, more contented than teasing now. Being friends with Maggie feels good.

She glances up at the trees, her attention moving from their imposing height, down to the large crevasse cutting through the rock at our right. Her footfalls slow. “Not sure why I never go hiking. It’s gorgeous out here.”

“This is my favorite thing in the world.”

“Which part?”