Maya arches an eyebrow at me. “Weren’t you and Connor planning to go hiking?”
I completely forgot about that, but the idea of hiking alone with Connor after last night suddenly feels painfully awkward.
“We were,” Connor says, and I think I hear the slightest edge in his voice.
I shrug, avoiding his gaze. “It’s fine. We can go kayaking with everyone instead.”
There’s a pause before Connor says, “Actually, I could use some fresh air. Maybe we could do a short hike and join everyone for swimming and hot tubs later?”
I look at him, and there’s something soft in his eyes. His expression doesn’t give much away, but the pressure of his knee against mine increases for a second before easing away.
Right. He wants to talk to me in private.
I cringe a little, already imagining how that conversation might go.
“Yeah, cool,” I say, while my heart kicks hard against my ribs.
“That sounds like a great idea,” Mom says, coming back from the kitchen looking visibly more relaxed. “The ridge trail must have lovely views in the morning. You could take some beautiful pictures too.”
I don’t argue, because a small stab of sympathy hits me all at once. She’s probably not trying to be annoying. She’s just scared I’m going to die alone. Which, honestly, I probably will, but that’s a problem for future Noah.
Breakfast drags after that, but my mood lifts just enough that I manage some eggs and fruit, and when I get up for morecoffee, I refill Connor’s mug too. By the time he sets his empty cup down and suggests we head out for our hike, I’m quick to agree, and Mom immediately insists on packing us water bottles and protein bars for the trail.
The moment we step outside, I feel like I can breathe again. The air has warmed a little, but it’s still crisp, carrying the smell of pine and damp grass. Connor walks beside me with his hands shoved into his pockets, his gaze fixed straight ahead.
“Sorry about Mom,” I say once we’re far enough from the house. “She can be a lot.”
Connor shrugs. “It’s okay. I think she’s just worried.”
I nod, my stomach twisting at the cool neutrality in his voice.
“Is that the ridge trail?” he asks, pointing toward a narrow path in the distance that disappears into the trees.
I shrug. “Probably.” Honestly, I’m so wound up I don’t really care.
Connor nods. “Alright, let’s go.”
We walk in silence, the only sounds our footsteps on the dirt path and the occasional call of a bird overhead. I keep my eyes on the ground, counting my steps, trying to empty my head of everything except the rhythm of walking. One, two, three, four. Don’t think about Connor. Don’t think about the kiss.
The trail slopes upward, winding between tall pines that block most of the morning sun. Light filters through in broken patches, shifting across the forest floor.
I make myself think about Rick instead, because apparently that hurts less than thinking about how badly I seemto have screwed things up with Connor. And once I do, my mind goes straight to this morning, to how shocked I was hearing Rick and Cassidy having sex. Which is ridiculous, really. They’re engaged. Of course they’re having sex. Of course he’s sleeping with her. Of course he probably enjoys it.
Still, some part of me must have been holding on to the idea that he ended things with me because the pressure of being with a man got to be too much. That it hurt him too. That, in some small miserable way, he was as wrecked by it as I was. And maybe that thought made it easier to live with, even if I never admitted it to myself.
But hearing them through the wall, knowing he’s moved on—really moved on—hits harder than I want it to. And I hate that it still makes me sad.
“Noah.”
I look up and find Connor watching me, his eyes serious, almost sad.
“Yeah?” I say, trying to keep my face under control. The trail keeps winding uphill through the trees, and only then does it hit me that we’ve been quiet for more than ten minutes.
“Can we talk about what’s going on?”
The question hits hard enough to make me a little dizzy. So this is it.
“Uh,” I say, my whole body going hot and cold at once. “Sure. About what?”
