My eyes shift around to find multiple people watching us. Striding to where Layla stands beside her car, hands on her hips in complete frustration, I grab her elbow, steering her in between two cars. “Wanna raise your voice, Peaches? I don’t think my teammates in Denver heard you.”
“Well, what do you expect me to do? This is unbelievable. You have a major issue with boundaries.”
I roll my eyes. “Layla, I don’t know where you live. And if I didn’t use a GPS, I wouldn’t know where this place was either. I don’t know my way around Denver well enough to stalk anyone. But trust me, if I wanted to stalk you, I’d do it closer to home. Driving an hour into the mountains to follow a girl isn’t my idea of a fun time.”
Gaze still unsure, Layla’s posture relaxes. “You can’t fault me for being concerned. Tons of trails here, so why did you pick this one?”
I shrug. “Google said it was a good trail, and I wanted a long one that wasn’t too tough. I think I’ve acclimated to the altitude, but I don’t want to find out the hard way if I have to call someone to be rescued.”
Her lips twitch as she struggles to smile. “No one warned me about the altitude when I moved here. I thought I was going insane.”
“You had trouble?” I tease. “I guess protein can’t solve everything.”
“Har-har,” she retorts, but her words lack the snappiness they usually have. “I bet I have better snacks in my backpack than you do.”
“Alright, I’ll take that bet. Whatcha got?” I ask.
Layla pulls off her backpack, settling it on the hood of her car. “I have multiple bottles of water, some packets of electrolyte powder, dried fruit, beef jerky, and nut butter pouches.”
I hum noncommittally as I open my backpack. I watch out of the corner of my eye as Layla’s mouth drops open. “Trail mix, apple butter with pretzel sticks, hard-boiled eggs with mustard pouches, beef jerky, protein bars, and a turkey sandwich. Oh, and three bottles of water, and electrolyte powder.”
She stares at me in shock. “Who are you, and what did you do with Max?”
I smile broadly. “I won, didn’t I?”
“I guess you did. I’ll admit, I’m impressed.” She peers into my bag again. “Did you hard-boil the eggs yourself?”
I stare at her, deadpan. “I’m not completely inept in the kitchen.”
Layla cocks an eyebrow at me. “You didn’t answer the question.”
I sigh, then scratch the back of my neck sheepishly. “Uh, no. I didn’t. Bought them already hard-boiled at the store.”
Layla lets out a loud bark of laughter. “Well, I appreciate the honesty.”
“I’m not a good liar,” I admit with a snort. Then I remember that Layla doesn’t know I’m the man she met in Chicago, and my humor dries up. “Enjoy your hike.”
“Oh,” she replies, a puzzled expression on her beautiful face. She has her blonde hair pulled up into a messy bun, tucked into the back of a Raptors baseball hat. A Raptors sweatshirt covers her thin frame, with leggings and hiking boots on her feet. She looks adorable, sexy, and sensational all at once.
I start off on the Mule Deer Trail, popping in my earbuds to try and dull the nagging voice in my head that’s telling me to walk with Layla. My goal is to complete the eight-point-eight-mile loop in under three hours, and I figure that at some point, Layla will lag behind. I figure I’ll hang in the trail parking lot until I see her make it to her car, just to ensure nothing happens to her, but I want to be far enough in front of her that I’m not tempted to do something irresponsible … like drag her deeper into the forest and fuck her against a tree.
I have a feeling Human Resources would be disappointed in that behavior.
At the one-hour mark, I receive an alert of a text message.Message from Peaches: Max, I fell and I think I sprained my ankle. I don’t know if this text will go through because my phone calls aren’t going through. I hope you get this.
“Shit,” I growl, turning back and sprinting down the trail. I find Layla about a half mile behind me, precariously sitting on the edge of the trail, holding her ankle. I drop beside her, gently taking hold of her foot. “I’m so sorry, Peaches. Did you try to call me? I only got the text, and I came right back.”
“No,” she says quietly. Layla looks forlorn, lost, and utterly miserable. “I tried to call a friend first.”
As I begin carefully untying her shoelace, I keep my voice light and even. “Oh? Were you meeting someone here?”
“No, but a friend lives close by. That’s how I know about this trail. We’ve come here before, and it’s one of my favorites for the views of the Continental Divide.” Her voice trembles as she swipes at her cheeks. “Now I’m pissed I won’t get any good pictures because I didn’t even make it that far.”
“I guess it’s a good thing we can come back to make it all the way to the end, then,” I tell her.
She scoffs. “We?”
“Yeah, we,” I tease. “Clearly, you can’t be trusted by yourself out here. Someone needs to make sure you survive. How will I go through life without you there to harass me about a healthy diet?”
