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Eventually, I give up.
Mark and Jordan have joined Finn, Holden, and Brooks by the fire pit by the time I climb back out of the tent. Another fire has been lit, the flames cracking merrily as they spread across the fresh kindling.
I approach the group slowly, the denim of my shorts a rough rub against my knuckles as I shove my hands inside of my pockets.
Mark notices me first, shooting a warm smile my way. There’s a crease across one of his cheeks from a pillow and his hair is sticking up in three different directions. Jordan is in patterned pajamas. It’s kind of nice, seeing this more relaxed side of the guys. Makes me feel more at ease around them.
Holden is talking to Finn, his expression serious.
There’s a spasm of unease in my stomach, worried something is wrong. But it relaxes when Holden notices my reappearance,punching Finn’s shoulder and then walking over to me. He stops to pick up his backpack, which I eye curiously.
“Have you seen my water bottle?”
“Yep.” Holden pats his backpack. “I packed it. You want it?”
“No, that’s okay. I just wanted to make sure I…had it.”
He nods, tugging down the brim of his ball cap. “Ready?”
I swallow my nervous apprehension. “Uh-huh.”
He glances back. “See you guys later.”
His friends’ expressions range from confused—Jordan—to amused—Mark.
“What time are we supposed to send out a search party?” Finn calls, as we start toward the far side of the campsite’s clearing, in the opposite direction from all the tents.
Holden flips him off over one shoulder.
“Where are we going?” I ask as we start along a trail.
“You’ll see,” he replies.
“Very reassuring.”
“Don’t you trust me?”
“You’re the one who freaked me out about wild animals and no cell service last night.”
“That was you walking alone, not with me.”
I scoff, and he suddenly turns.
“You trust me, Cassia?”
Maybe I should hesitate, after all that we’ve been through. But it’s also why I don’t. “Yes.”
A small smile touches his lips. “Good.” Then he turns around and keeps walking.
The trail is well-maintained but narrow. We walk single file across the leaf litter and pine needles scattered along the ground, shaded by the broad branches above. Small patches of sunlight permeate the canopy above, but the rest of the path is shaded, the fresh air damp and cool.
I inhale deeply, especially once the incline starts. Holden doesn’t glance back once.
He’s obviously paying attention to me, though, because he slows after I slip on a stray rock. I catch my balance, rubbing my palm against my shorts to wipe away the dirt before continuing to trek.
It’s a peaceful, comfortable kind of silence, permeated by the occasional bird call or twig snap. The kind I wasn’t sure we were still capable of. The kind that reminds me how tightly woven Holden Adams is in my life. That I’m not just attracted to him or in love with him, but I also consider him a best friend.
I feel more myself around him than I do when I’m alone.
