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“I promise you will have a good time,” Adrian whispers as he presses a kiss to my neck.
Turning around I search his face, seeing the little flecks of green in his eyes, his long black lashes, and dimples on his cheeks as he smiles back at me.
“Should I be worried?” he asks.
“No.” I shake my head and pull him in for a kiss.
As I do, there’s a commotion on the bus as someone yells, party!
Laughing against his lips, I notice someone sits down next to us, pushing Adrian further into me. I’m about to curse whoever it is out, but when I turn around, I see its Finlay with his daughter on his lap; blonde hair pulled into her signature pigtails, chubby legs poking out from under a sundress, with flip flops dangling off her feet. Adrian reaches over and tickles Layla’s ribs which she protests – loudly.
Across the aisle, his girlfriend, who I didn’t get a chance to meet last week, takes a seat, leaning over to adjust the little girl's sundress. “Finlay, leave them alone,” she chastises.
I look at Adrian as he shrugs. “Figured we’d make a day of it,” he says.
“Corvin,” Finlay greets, smacking his shoulder. “I haven’t been tubing in years.”
Peering around Adrian, I look at Finlay.
“You met Layla,” Finlay gestures to his daughter who turns up her nose at me. “She’s in a mood today,” he apologizes.
“Something the two of you have in common,” Adrian teases.
“This is Emma.” Finlay motions to his girlfriend across the aisle, who has blonde hair just like Layla’s, tied up in a messy bun.
“Nice to meet you,” Emma smiles brightly. “I hope we’re not intruding,” she says sweetly.
“Not at all.”
The bus lurches forward, jarring me further into Adrian as Finlay takes Layla across the aisle to sit next to Emma. We climb further into the White Mountains and the scenery is breathtaking, but the bus ride is bumpy.
“This bus smells,” I can’t help but complain.
Adrian chuckles. “Layla complains less than you.” He points to Finlay’s lap where Layla is draped half on Finlay and half on Emma, her eyes softly closed.
“That’s because she’s asleep.” I shake my head at him.
It takes about twenty minutes to get to the top. Adrian takes my hand and leads me off the bus where we grab our tubes and carry them to the riverbank. Finlay secures a life jacket on Layla and then ties our tubes together. I’m glad I wore water shoes because I’m certain I would have lost a flip flop in the rocky banks with the river flowing steadily.
Adrian places the cooler and our dry bags in the extra tube.
“How long does it take to get back to the bottom?” I ask as Adrian pushes my sunglasses further up my nose.
“Just shut up and have fun.” He kisses my nose and I smack him.
Emma places a squirming Layla in her lap as we both get in our tubes while Adrian and Finlay walk us into the water. I have to raise my butt in the shallow river until we get a little further out, and even then, it’s not much deeper but it’s enough to make us float. Once the slow current takes over, Adrian and Finlay jump into their tubes, letting the water guide us.
The sun beats down from a cloudless sky and I’m glad I put on sunscreen or I’d be a tomato by the time we get to the bottom. Music blares in the distance and combines with the sound of rushing water as we pass under a bridge. On either side are trucks lined up, people fishing, and little kids playing in the water.
The terrain on either side of the river is beautiful. The river is nestled in a canyon of varying colors of browns and reds. The terracotta colors are muted from little rain this summer, but sparse green bushes and large, century-old Saguaro’s stand tall, dotting the mountains. The current is slow and lazy as I dangle my feet in the water, forgetting all about the possibility of the fish. It’s impossibly cold but feels so good on my heated skin.
Adrian’s fingers draw patterns on my leg and I close my eyes, tipping my head back. Finlay and Emma chat nearby, pointing out pieces of the landscape to Layla who sucks on a Capri Sun. Turning my head to look at Adrian, I see his shirt is off, and I admire his tanned, smooth skin, and muscular arms draping over the tube, so relaxed.
He shouldn’t be able to see my eyes trained on him behind my sunglasses, but he senses me. “What are you thinking about?” he asks, tipping his head towards me.
Behind his dark sunglasses, I know his eyes are trained on me.
“I wasn’t thinking about anything,” I say, which isn’t the whole truth. It’s as if everything in the world has faded to the background, and all that’s left is the cool water, the sun, and him.
