Page 98 of Let the Light Shine Through

My smile widens if only just to piss her off. She rolls her eyes, facing forward again, and I yank on the dry pair before closing the door and climbing into the driver’s seat.

“Where are we going?”

Taking a page from Gia’s guidebook, I don’t answer her. I don’t give any hint at all. I just drive, ignoring her next to me—well, trying to—as we make our way up the mountain. Technically, vehicles aren’t allowed up this far, so I had my work cut out for me when I came back out here myself a couple hours ago. Following the trails our four-wheelers had previously made was a bitch thanks to the rainstorm that came through, but my four-wheel drive helped. Moving enough debris by hand for my truck to fit on those trails was a whole other challenge.

I reverse until my back tires hit the rocks I already put in position.

“I thought you were about to Thelma and Louise us.”

Uh, who are they?

At my silence, she shakes her head, asking, “Weren’t we just here?”

I retrieve her bag from the back seat, dropping it in her lap. “Yep. Now put something warm on.”

Even though there’s still a reassuring warmth in the air now, it’ll get cold later. The mountains have it all in the summer—hot days and cold nights.

“Why do you have my stuff? And whose clothes were in our room?”

Our room. She knows. She fucking knows and still, she fights me.

“Kori’s probably.”

“Probably? Wouldn’t you know?”

I shrug. “No, not really.” It’s no longer my concern now that I got Gia out of there.

“You spent hours with that girl in there and you don’t know if those were her clothes?”

Hours? “I didn’t spend hours with Kori. You were there the entire time I was with her. In the hot tub.” Unless… “Is that what you meant about owing you fifteen ninety-nine?”

“Fifteen sixty-nine.”

“Whatever. You thought I used your condoms? With Kori?”

She’s got a dry shirt draped over her now, with the previous wet one slipping through the armpit and she stops to ask, “You didn’t?”

“No.” I half-laugh. Clearly that idea never even registered. Kori is…not Gia. Even though I put on a good show with that kiss, that’s all it was—a show. My lips might’ve been kissing Kori’s, but my mind was fucking Gia’s.

She groans, lifting her ass off the seat to pull her stiff pants down her thighs. “See? You’re wasteful. I put her right there for—”

“Wait. What do you mean you put Kori there?”

When she refuses to meet my eye, I say, “So I’d fuck you out of my system, too? Is that it?” That is it though. That’s exactly it.

She continues avoiding me, messing with the pants bunched around her ankles. The moonlight filters in through the truck’s windows, casting a spotlight on Gia’s exposed skin, making it look luminescent. Wet strands of hair stick to her face and neck and shoulders, and as her body twitches with each yank of her sopping clothing, she could pass as a misplaced mermaid.

“Don’t come out until you’re dressed,” I warn, leaving her inside so I can…breathe. Or something.

I undo the straps I used to secure everything earlier, then remove the tarp, setting it all up—the snacks I packed along with the sleeping bags, blankets, and pillows I bought with Bryce from the outdoor store.

After placing two coconut waters off to the side, I take a huge breath, then another, holding it for a count of ten before releasing it fully.

The other times I was up here today weren’t right. They just…weren’t. One was with too many people, the other was with too many distractions. Or one in particular anyway.

Now, my mind can home in on what this place really represents—change. I thought quitting snowboarding was an end. A departure from what had always been. But really, it’s a beginning. The start of something else entirely. Something I never would’ve found had it not been for sacrificing damn near everything first.

I’ve felt a pull so strong, so undeniable, since the moment I saw Gia, almost as if she’s been the finish line all along.