Page 23 of Love Off the Rocks
I don’t even care if I’m heavy. I’m simply happy to be alive.
“I fell over a cliff,” I stutter into his chest. “Down a mountain.”
“It was more like a small hill,” he says, laughing.
“It felt like a mountain.”
“I’m sure it did.” He kisses the top of my head. I’m not even sure if he realizes he did. Regardless, it makes me feel good. I snuggle closer to his body heat.
He doesn’t stop at the small patch of sun like I thought he would. Instead finding a less steep section of the mountain and effortlessly climbing to the top.
Devlin does cardio.
He sets me down gently, then pulls out a blanket from his backpack and spreads it out. “I know you’re tempted to curl up, but if you can, lie flat in the sun, your clothes should dry faster that way.”
I nod and follow his instructions. He surprises me by wrapping his own hoodie around my shoulders after laying mine out to dry, then lying down beside me and pulling me into him. “The body heat should help,” he says after I look at him questioningly.
I settle back in, and it’s like no time has passed. Like we are back in college, slowly waking up after spending the night together or picnicking in the quad on a warm day. My body fits into his like a missing puzzle piece, and I don’t even care that I hate him. Or that I’ve missed him. Or how cold I am.
All I care about is how good he feels after my near-death experience.
His arm tightens around me in a brief squeeze, as though he could read my thoughts and feels the same way. There was a time when I would have sworn to you that he could. The warmth builds between us and my teeth slow their chatter. If it weren’t for how pruned my feet feel, I’d wonder if I’d ever fallen into a near frozen river at all.
“We should probably head back instead of continuing this hike,” he says. “We need to get you out of those wet clothes, and it’s best that we do that before the sun sets.”
“What time is it?”
“I’m guessing maybe four o’clock based on how long I think we’ve been gone and where the sun is at,” he says, squinting at the sky.
“Okay,” I sigh, sitting up. His eyes drop to my chest and widen. I look down, realizing my white tank top is completely see through. The little lavender flowers on my bra, which were so subtle, are now screaming for attention. I cross my arms over my chest and glare at him.
He holds his hands up in a surrender pose. “I’m sorry. You can’t blame a guy for looking.”
“Isn’t that sexual harassment, Mr. Boss-man?” I smirk.
His expression goes flat, and he stands quickly. I immediately regret saying that, wanting the warm look back on his face. The teasing eyes and the knowing smile. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that,” I tell him.
“No, you’re right,” he says. “That is no way for a manager to treat his employee. I’m not setting a good example and I’m sorry for that.” He grabs the blanket and shakes it loosely before stuffing it back into his backpack.
“Plus, what would your girlfriend say?” I say before I can stop it.
“You keep saying that. What girlfriend?” he asks.
I hand him his hoodie, but he waves me off. “You need it more.” I shrug and put it back on. Grateful for the warmth it provides. The fact that it smells like him as it wraps me in its fleece-lined hug is just a bonus.
“Brittni.”
“Brittni’s not my girlfriend,” he scoffs, turning to walk down the path.
I scramble after him. “Your fuck buddy then.”
He stops and turns to face me. “She’s not my fuck buddy either. She’s my employee. I don’t appreciate the implication there is anything more.” He runs his hand through his hair, a sigh of frustration escapes him. “Where would you even get such an idea?”
“From Brittni, she told me.”
“Well, she lied.” He spins and begins walking again. “She’s not my anything. We’ve never even dated or seen each other socially. She’s tried, but I haven’t done anything.”
Relief floods through me.
