Page 75 of River & Rue

Maybe I already have.

I follow River up narrow metal steps and settle beside him on the shallow, too-small bench. Our bodies press together shoulder to calf. When he moves to align his feet to the pedals on his side, his arm grazes the side of my breast.

“Should we head back after this?”

The question comes out breathless and, dare I say, suggestive. Ducking my head to hide my embarrassment, I make a show of adjusting my feet on my pedals.

“Sick of me already?”

“That goes without saying, but I also told Kirk I’d have the golf cart back at the Lodge before dinner.”

“Don’t worry, Princess. I’ll get you there.”

Dammit.

I shift on the hard bench, swallowing a gasp when the seam between my legs rolls over my clit. Closing my eyes tightly, I wait for the ache to downgrade from critical to barely tolerable. When it does, I blink back into the present.

And my heart slams to my spine.

River stares at me from inches away. Sunlight catches in his eyes, accentuating cliffs and chasms of amber, gold, and citrine. He’s not quite smiling, but there’s a hint of gaiety around his mouth that makes me want to stab him. Repeatedly.

“Everything okay?”

“Absolutely. What’s next?”

His gaze flickers, stalling for a beat on my mouth before swinging to the plaque mounted in front of us. As I surreptitiously check for drool, he brushes off accumulated dust to reveal etched instructions.

Shading the small paragraph with his hand, he reads it aloud.

“before embarking on your journey, two must free secrets three—one never before spoken, one asked and given free, and one a wish the stars alone receive.”

My pulse taps an adrenaline-soaked cadence. “That’s surprisingly poetic.”

River smirks. “High praise indeed. Should we play Rock Paper Scissors to see who goes first?”

“You actually want to do all that? Why bother? Let’s just use the pedals and see what happens.”

His grunt is pure affront. “You made me sit inside the giant vagina to ‘meditate on the womb of Mother Earth’ for ten minutes because of the artist’s instructions.”

I grimace. “Point taken.”

Swallowing heavily, I scan the instructions again. They aren’t as daunting the second time, but my skin still crawls.

“For the first one, can it be something I’ve never told you specifically? Or does it have to be something I’ve never said out loud?”

River hesitates. “It doesn’t matter to me, but if you’re uncomfortable⁠—”

“Don’t be silly! I’m completely comfortable.”

I smile.

His wince suggests my effort lands closer to constipated than congenial.

“We’re skipping the secrets.” He gives one of the pedals a testing push; it doesn’t move, but one of mine squeaks a little. “Oh, okay. That’s pretty cool. Looks like my right pedal helps move your left one and vice versa on your side, and all four have to move for anything to happen.”

I inhale the tang of warm metal and balsam and him. My exhale is a surrender I didn’t plan and can’t control. The only choice remaining is whether I relax into the fall or fight it.

And I’m tired of fighting.