It’s not that big of a deal, I don’t know why you care so much.
Try-hard. Perfectionist. High maintenance.
But most of all, it strikes me like a rogue lightning bolt in a storm that his response is so far from any of those things. Pressure forms behind my eyelids, and I flick my sunglasses down from my head to hide the impending tears.
It’s childish, but I think I hate Jett—just a little. He’s kind and considerate in a way few men are, at least not to me. Not historically. And maybe I hate him because I know it’s genuine and simply part of the fabric of who he is.
Or maybe it’s because he’s forcing the realization to the surface—that he’s been kinder than any man I’ve ever dated. No ulterior reason behind it.
What does that say about me?
Do I view myself so poorly? And why has it taken twelve days with Jett, Doug, and Molly for this epiphany to settle?
Jett leads us to a set of seats at the back of the bus. He takes a step past and gives me the window seat, and I ignore the uncomfortable fluttering in my chest when I sit.
The engine hums to life, and Jett’s knee presses into mine. “You all right?”
The concern in his tone snaps me back to reality. “Just thinking.”
“I’m here if you want to talk about it.”
He says nothing more, likely grateful I didn’t say “I’m fine” and is happy to leave it at that. We weave down narrow roads, along cliffsides that overlook the ocean, magnificent swirls of teals and blues. Waves crash against the shore, and large boulders covered in patches of lichen line the edge of eucalyptus and pine forests.
“Forts walking path,” the driver calls out, and I pat Jett on the thigh.
“This is us.” I follow the group off the bus and back into the heat. The all-black outfit I chose this morning was a terrible decision, absorbing every ray of warmth from the sun. Jett moves to stand beside me, extending a tube of sunscreen. “Oh, I put some on this morning,” I tell him.
He gives me an incredulous look, then says something so unexpected I choke. “You should reapply, unless your goal is to get me to rub aloe on your back again tonight. Then, by all means, burn away.”
I take the sunscreen without another word. Jett gives me a beaming, victorious smile. When I’m done, he pulls the baseball cap from his head and sets it on mine, adjusting the brim so it doesn’t fall over my eyes.
My pulse hammers in my ears.
He’s got to stop this. Right. Now.
Jett taps the brim, surveying me. “Now you’re ready to hike.”
“Here’s the camera. I put the fifty-millimeter lens on,” Doug says, handing it to our boss. “I’ve got the drone in my bag, and if we get moving, we should reach the top of the fort before the sun peaks and it gets too hot.”
Molly flicks her wrist, and a fan unfurls itself. She waves it frantically in front of her. “Let’s get this show on the road and find a koala so we can find somewhere cool to sit.”
“I’m with her,” I say, a sigh escaping when she turns the fan toward me and the forced air hits my balmy skin.
The men set a brutal pace, trekking up the uneven, unpaved path. The incline sharpens as we round a corner, and my breathing labors. Molly pauses beside me to catch her breath, and the guys continue up the path, chatting and pointing at things.
Don’t worry, we’re fine back here.
Jett’s hat falls over my brows when I grip my knees, releasing a hint of his cologne. “Wait up,” I try to yell, but it comes out as a puff of air.
Shit, I’m out of shape.
“Let them run away. I’d rather chat with you, anyway,” Molly says, fanning me as I rise. “We’ve barely spoken the last few days.”
I raise a brow and answer when I can breathe again. “That’s because you and your husband have an incredible ability to disappear.”
We opt for a slower pace, sticking to the shaded side of the path. A fit couple passes us on our left, jogging up the hill while chatting amongst themselves. Not a single labored breath between them. You’d think they were sitting on a couch.
Panting, I add “Go to the gym” to my mental to-do list for when we return to LA. I’ve been relying ondifferentforms of cardio for too long, and with that exercise gone, I’m paying the price.
