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We’re in front of his cabin, a lovely home may I add, preparing for this hike. He doesn’t live far from one of the trails so it makes sense.
So why am I looking at his front door like I’d rather go inside there than the trail I promised to hike?
Tugging my eyes away, I spray down my arms and legs. I’m not much of an outgoing gal, so I’m hoping it’s not as bad as he’s insinuating. Are my shorts alright? I’m not going to chafe, am I? These are the kinds of things I should’ve considered last night while I was too busy rolling around while fighting sleep.
“Did you put any sunscreen on?” he asks next, shaking his head when I tell him no. “You’re not going to be able to move tomorrow morning at this rate.”
My stomach tightens as my mind goes in the opposite direction.
Is that a promise?
“Tell me you have some.” Spraying the back of my neck next, I cough as I taste the bug spray. Gross. Hiking shouldn’t be this much work. I should just be able to walk. Thanks to Sawyer, he’s going to make sure I make it back in one piece.
“Of course I do.” More spray to go in my mouth, awesome. Without me even needing to ask, he approaches and starts spraying my limbs. Is being this helpful something that comes naturally to him?
Chewing on the inside of my cheek, I don’t stop him. I simply extend my limbs to him as I finish up with the bug spray. Maybe I’m moving too slow for him and he wants to get on the trail.
If it means I get to experience his fingers gently holding my wrist, then I’ll be a turtle.
He gets my legs too, kneeling down to make sure not to miss a single inch. Imagine if he only had lotion. Would he be so willing to help then? Thinking about his palms rubbing my legs, my thighs in particular, I enter the red zone. Bad Julie.
“Thank you,” I murmur as I look down at him. I just want to run my fingers through his dark locks, but my fingers are covered in bug spray and Sawyer is just being nice.
I can’t touch him, let alone fantasize about this guy. Before we started getting close, thinking about him was easy. Now I’m worried about what he’d think if he knew of the kind of thoughts and temptations I constantly have to push down.
Bad, bad Julie.
He looks up at me and it’s like something clicks, like he realizes what he’s doing and has been caught in the act. Standing up, he clears his throat, nods, and proceeds to try to hand me the bottle to finish up.
No way. He’s finishing what he started.
Turning around, I move my ponytail to the side. Outside of my tank top, my skin is already glistening from the bug spray. “Don’t forget about this area.”
I can’t help myself. Even if I shouldn’t poke the bear, I’m ready to let him take care of me. After this, I swear I’ll act like the friend I should be. One who is here for a friendly outing and not some kind of date.
Missing the opportunity to see his face, goosebumps lift across my arms when I feel him slide his fingers across the bare of my back. Must’ve had loose hair in the way or something. Before I can enjoy the heated sensation, I’m cooled down by the spray.
It’s an interaction that lasts no longer than thirty seconds but I’m living for it. I’m almost disappointed when he pulls away. He lets me spray my face, refusing to do it himself. That’s his limit.
“Tell me you at least packed a water bottle to take with you.” He sounds like he’s got something stuck in his throat. “Something to snack on too.”
“Water, yes. Do Cheerios count as a snack? I brought a whole baggie of them.” Simply because who casually has any kind of trail mix in their cupboard? Then again, I don’t normally eat cereal dry either. I didn’t want to risk having curdled milk in my backpack. It’s got a lot of nostalgia to it and spoiled milk would have ruined it.
He clicks his tongue as he takes the bottles in my hand and shoves both into his own backpack.
“You aren’t regretting asking me out, have you?” I ask, starting to wonder if maybe I should’ve done a little more research on our outing trip.
He whips his head back as if I’ve offended him. “Of course not.”
Such a quick answer is quite reassuring.
His expression softens and he puts on his backpack. “I’m just picturing carrying you back here because I let you pass out.”
I mean personally, that sounds like a pretty good time. Seeing that his reaction is to be upset, that’s another reminder that we’re not on the same page here.
“Don’t worry. I’ll make sure to drink a lot of water and eat all your snacks. If it comes down to it, I’ll help carry you back down and we’ll call it even.” Moving to collect my own backpack, I hear him snort and the sound fills me with life. “I’m so ready for this. Let’s go.”
Sawyer
