Page 109 of Bloom

The third timeI have to stop, the man at my side releases a long, undeniable irked exhale.

“Sorry,” I grumble between alternating gulps of air and water—though, I’m not sure why I’m apologizing. I certainly didn’t ask him to join me. “I didn’t sleep great last night.”

The guy hums, hands on his hips, fingers tapping impatiently as he stares at the group still trudging along ahead of us. Caleb, I think his name is. I wasn’t really listening when he introduced himself, nor when a handful of his friends did the same. I didn’t think I needed to commit any of them to memory when, after sharing a meager breakfast of crumbly granola bars and fruit at our campsite, we would likely never see each other again.

I justhadto mention the hike Hunter and I were planning on doing. I had to rave about the view from Panther Gap. I had to make it sound like the greatest trail in the world and give Maybe Caleb and his friends no choice but to join us.

Hunter gave me the stink eye for at least the first thirty minutes of the hike. He only stopped because, sleep-deprived and overheating, I’ve been moving at a pace too slow for his long legs to comfortably mimic. The moment we fell out of step, Caleb was suddenly at my side and a pretty brunette took my spot beside Hunter.

Between noting what a pretty side profile she has and trying to decipher Hunter’s emotions by staring at the back of his head, I haven’t heard much of what’s come out of my hiking buddy’s mouth. But I do hear, “You know, you look really familiar.”

Slipping my water bottle back into the side pocket of my backpack, I wonder if that statement makes the average person so panicked. “Oh?”

We start walking again, and he half-turns to study me. “What did you say your name was again?”

His more-smug-than-sorry smile makes me feel like I’m supposed to be offended, but considering I’ve been calling himCaleb?in my head all morning, I don’t take it personally. “It’s Caroline.”

He makes a thoughtful noise, rubbing at his chin and looking at me in a way that makes my skin crawl. “Caroline… Brennan?”

“Yeah,” I confirm cautiously, eyeing him warily. “How’d you know?”

“I know your dad.”

If this were a cartoon, the screeching sound of brakes would echo through the air, signaling my abrupt halt. “How?” I ask, dreading the answer before the question even shakily leaves my mouth.

Stopping too, Caleb seems oblivious to the fact my stomach is somewhere around my feet. “I’m from Ponderosa Falls,” he names the next town over from Haven Ridge, names the bar where he works too, but I don’t hear the specifics, what with the steadily growing ringing in my ears.

A bartender who knows my dad. A bartender whoknowsmy dad. Not in a ‘yeah, I could pick him out of a line-up’ way. He knows him enough,seeshim enough, to recognize me. Because, “You look just like him,” Caleb says, and doesn’t that hit me like a punch to the gut, don’t Iflinch.

I was just starting to feel okay. I was starting to forget, or I was at least getting really good at shoving him to the darkest, untouched depths of my mind. I could see a life without his influence, without hisstain. I could feel it, touch it,tasteit, and then,bam. Right as I’m teetering on the precipice of something new, I’m reminded of his existence.

“Baby.”

My gaze snaps into focus, my mind going quiet at the sight of Hunter walking towards me—limpingtowards me. Concern elbowing its way to the forefront of my emotional tangle, I manage to suck enough air into my lungs to ask what happened. Fingers dance across my shoulder, along my cheek, cup the back of my neck. “Think I pulled somethin’. You mind if we head back?”

I almost buckle with relief. “Of course not.”

As Hunter wraps his hand around mine and tugs me away, I try to look at least somewhat sorry as I call a quick goodbye over my shoulder, try to muster up some guilt about the immense amount of gratitude I’m feeling towards a pulled muscle.

A pulled muscle that mysteriously unpulls itself within a handful of steps.

“Thank fuck,” Hunter mutters as his stride rights itself, and I gape at him. “Sorry, honey, I tried, but they were annoyin’ as hell.”

Choking on my disbelief, I check over my shoulder to make sure the group is out of sight before hissing, “You werefaking?”

The side-eye Hunter shoots me is half smug, half pitiful. “That girl kept tryna read my chakra.”

Unbelievable. He isunbelievable.

I think I might love him a little.

“So you’re fine.”

“Uh-huh.” He squeezes my hand. “Are you?”

“Yeah.” The lie comes out before I even make the conscious decision to say it. I don’t even knowwhy. Hunter knows about my dad, he knows more than anyone else, he knows the absolute worst of it, yet my stomach still rolls at the thought of bringing him up. I don’t want to ruin the day by talking about him, by reminding Hunter of the skeletons in my closet. So, I lie some more. “Just a little winded.”

Hunter hums. Slipping off one strap of his rucksack, he swings it around to his front so he can rummage through the side pocket. When he finds what he’s looking for and extends a closed fist towards me, I hold out my hand for him to drop a small bottle onto my palm. “It’s supposed to be good for asthma,” he tells me as I read the label, noting an ingredients list of green tea, eucalyptus, ginger, and a handful of other things praised for helping with respiration.

---