Page 136 of The Golden Scoop

For a second, I just stare. Three days of overthinking, of missing her, of being an idiot. This is it. No more secrets.

I straighten, push my shoulders back, run a hand through my hair, and start toward her. She must hear me coming, because she turns her head.

Her eyes widen, sliding from my face all the way down to my feet.

“Matt,” she breathes, her brows knitting together. “Why are you panting?”

My mouth opens but nothing comes out. Apparently, I haven’t fully exited the ‘I’m dying’ stage. I hold up one finger.

“Did you… run?” Emma asks, standing. “Why are you sweating so much?”

Really?

I just did an hour and a half hike running, in jeans, and she’s concerned about how much I’m sweating?

“Hiked this whole mountain in less than an hour,” I manage, straightening despite the fact that my body’s ready to collapse. “How are you not panting? Last time I almost had to carry you.”

Emma laughs. Full, wholeheartedly laughs. Then, she points to the trail that continues farther up.

“I drove.”

I blink.

“You what?” Swear to God, if she took that Jeep off-road⁠—

“I drove,” she repeats, and at least has the decency to look slightly guilty. “Looked up the trail. Turns out you can drive to the very top, then walk down here. Took me about five minutes.”

I stare at her in silence.

She stares back, extremely amused.

“I felt like I was dying.”

A smile tugs at the corners of her mouth, but she manages to control it.

“I can see that.”

“In jeans,” I add. “And stupid designer shoes.”

That does it. Her smile breaks through.

She’s so damn beautiful.

“I’m sorry,” she says, not sounding sorry at all.

I shake my head because, of course she found a loophole. Leave it to Emma to go hiking without the walking part.

Yet, everything’s worth it when her smile turns into a smirk and she says, “Care to sit with me, Matthew?”

I’d hike this whole thing again, if it meant ending up here with her.

There are so many things I want to say, need to say, but as soon as we sit and the laughter dies down, the past three days hit me like a truck.

Suddenly, I’m nervous. Emma looks ready to jump out of her skin too. I don’t know what to expect. It’s like neither of us know where to start. But I got us in this position, and I have to get us out.

“I read your article,” I say.

“Oh.”