Page 49 of Bloom

It doesn't take much encouragement for the others to join in and soon, the sound of splashing and shrieking fills the air again. There's so much water flying at me from every direction, I can barely open my eyes, or hear anything other than screeching, which is why I don't see him coming.

When an arm bands around my waist, I don’t need to glance down to confirm the thick limb belongs to Hunter, but I do so anyway, momentarily gulping at the weirdly alluring sight. A second later, I’m lifted clean out of the water and spun around so quickly, I gasp as I steady myself on broad shoulders.

Under different circumstances, I'd be a lot more flustered by our current position. But right now, I'm way more occupied with the look of pure evil in Hunter's eyes as he wades into deeper water, pretending to drop me a couple of times until my yelps reach a new decibel of shrill. “Don't,” I plead playfully, digging my fingers into his traps. “Please, Hunter.”

His gruff laugh vibrates throughout my entire body. “You splashed me first.”

“I didn't mean to!” I wriggle in his grip to absolutely no avail. “Hunter!” His name ends in a shriek as he tosses me away, and I swear I’m airborne for a whole minute before I crash back into the water.

There’s this moment when I resurface, choking on water and laughter in equal measures, and the first thing I see is sparkling hazel eyes followed by a roguish smile, when my heart does this weird flipping thing in my chest.

Crap,I find myself thinking as my smile falters.You’re in so much trouble, Caroline.

15

Rain will never feel the same again.

“Favorite color?”

Hunter’s sigh is drawn-out, long-suffering.

“C’mon.” I nudge him insistently. “Humor me.”

He shoots me a look as if to say‘I have been humoring you.’And he has; for over an hour, while we hike through mile after mile of forest, he’s tolerated my game of twenty questions. Or I guess two hundred questions is more accurate, but hey. He wanted to join me. He knows by now, surely, that silence makes me itch.

“I don’t know,” he eventually concedes. “Red, maybe?”

My nose wrinkles. “Red? Really?”

“What’s wrong with red?”

“Red is ugly. Angry. Bad things are red.”

“Bad things?” Hunter rolls his lips together; hiding a laugh, I know, but I can tell it’s fueled by amusement, not mockery. “Like what?”

“Blood. Fire. Danger.”

He doesn't manage to hold in his laugh this time, and he gets a poke on the arm for it. “I’m serious!”

“Roses are red—”

“Violets are blue?”

Shooting me an incredulous look, he runs his tongue over his teeth. “I'm gonna leave you up here.”

Glancing around our surroundings, I contemplate that threat, and ultimately decide that there are definitely worse places to be abandoned. We took a new trail, a harder one, really pushing ourselves—and when I saywe, I mean me. Hunter is as sweat-free and even-breathed as he was when we started while I’m a panting, gasping, sweaty mess. But the peace and quiet, the inescapable scent of pine, the complete absence of anyone else, has been worth it.

“There are worse places to be left,” I voice my thoughts aloud, reaching around to pat my backpack. “And I’ve got snacks.”

It’s not really funny, not really a joke, but Hunter laughs anyway—a rich, booming noise that smacks me in the chest and feels just as real as his hand on my shoulder when he shoves me gently. “Go on, then. What’s an acceptable favorite color?”

“Yellow,” I answer without hesitation. “Yellow is a happy color.”

“Yellow is the color of piss.”

A surprised laugh rips from my throat, even as I stop and turn to him with narrowed eyes, hands on my hips. “Sunshine is yellow.”

“So is jaundice.”

---