I lean back against the seat as the truck jolts forward, grateful, relieved, and somehow certain this summer just got a whole lot more complicated.
2
Liam
I grip the steering wheel harder, knuckles turning white as I guide my battered pickup truck up the winding mountain road. The rain’s relentless, visibility close to nothing, and I swear the gods are mocking me today.
"You know, I usually don't get lost," Everly says cheerfully from the passenger seat, tugging absently at the hem of her drenched sundress. It clings to her skin like a second layer, water droplets slipping lazily down her bare thighs. I swallow hard, forcing my gaze back to the road.
"Looks like today was your unlucky day," I mutter, trying not to sound as irritated as I feel.
"Unlucky? Maybe," she says, shifting in her seat to face me more directly. I catch the scent of her perfume again, a sweet, seductive vanilla that clings stubbornly to the damp air inside my truck. It’s intoxicating and completely unwelcome. "Or maybe fate decided I needed an adventure."
"Fate sounds like a pain in the ass."
Everly laughs, a musical sound that cuts straight through my carefully constructed walls. "Maybe. But adventures can be fun."
I grunt in response, eyes narrowed as I carefully navigate the muddy road. My cabin isn’t much farther, tucked away deep in these mountains. Isolated exactly how I like it. This girl, all city sparkle and incessant chatter, doesn't belong anywhere near my quiet, secluded sanctuary.
"Are you from around here?" she asks, relentless in her attempt to coax me into conversation.
"No."
"Where are you from?"
"Not here."
She sighs softly, though there's a hint of amusement hidden beneath it. "Got it. The mysterious mountain-man vibe. You’ve nailed it, Liam."
I glance sideways at her, frowning slightly. The corners of her mouth twitch in a smile, her eyes sparkling despite the chill. She wraps her arms around herself tighter, and I realize she's shivering.
"You cold?" I ask grudgingly.
"A little," she admits softly. "Didn't really pack for mountain storms, unfortunately."
Of course she didn't. Her suitcase probably contains nothing more practical than a dozen dresses and books with shirtless men on the covers.
Without another word, I reach behind the seat and pull out the blanket I keep stashed for emergencies. "Here."
"Thanks," she says, taking it gratefully. Her fingers brush against mine briefly, sending an unwelcome jolt straight through my chest. I quickly pull my hand away, refocusing intently on the slick road ahead.
Everly bundles herself up, sighing with contentment. "So, Liam, how long have you lived up here?"
I grit my teeth. She won’t stop. I should've left her on the side of the road and called someone—anyone—to come fetch her when the storm cleared. Instead, I'm stuck listening to her cheerful rambling, her voice a sweet melody I can't escape.
"Few years," I finally say, keeping my voice curt.
"Must be peaceful," she muses. "Quiet. No one around to bother you."
"Usually."
She chuckles lightly, clearly catching the not-so-subtle dig. "Don't worry, I promise I won't overstay my welcome."
"Good."
We fall into a brief silence. I nearly relax, thinking she's done for now. But then she shifts again, her legs crossing. My eyes betray me, flicking involuntarily to the movement. Rain still traces a slow, tantalizing path down her skin. I find myself imagining how soft she must feel beneath my hands, the warmth of her?—
"So, I was supposed to be going to a yoga retreat," she continues, oblivious to my internal struggle. "It’s supposed to be relaxing. Resetting, you know? I was thinking I'd come back to the city all zen and recharged. But clearly, plans change."