Page 3 of Artfully Wild
I can see the life preserver clearly in my mind and I’m jumping ship, getting away from the tide of thoughts trying to drown me further, even though a large part of me—I’d say 99.9 percent of me—wants to follow that particular direction down whatever path it was leading to and explore it.
Jacob looks up and claps his hands together, startling Maxoff the desk. “So, why don’t we go on a hike.” He says it like a statement.
“A hike? Right now?” It’s notthatlate, but I was looking forward to having a pity party date with myself, a stupid rom-com I’d regret watching, and a full tub of rocky road ice cream on my lap.
“Yes, Skylar. Right now,” he responds, his lips curling up at the corner, his right dimple showing. The dimple I want to put my finger over and smooth it out with the pad of my thumb as his lips turn to meet my hand slowly working their way up to my wrist, up my arm covered in tattoos to my shoulder, my neck until—
“You okay over there?” he asks, breaking me from my thoughts. Thoughts that have been more frequent over the last couple of months thanks to my idiot brother and the love of his life. Which have thrust me back into the fantasies I used to be able to keep out of my head because they featured my best friend as the main character and well, we made a deal.Just friends.
“Why do you want to go on a hikerightnow? It’s almost sunset.”
“Nah, there’s still at least two hours left. Plus,” he points in my direction. “You need some fun in your life.”
“I have plenty of fun in my life,” I counter with an eye roll. “I’m friends with your dumb ass,” I say, deflecting, because that’s who I am. Skylar Waters: Professional Deflector. Just call me Link, with the hoard of guardian shields I have ready to wield at a moment’s notice.
“No, you need to do something fun. Reckless, even.” He raises his eyebrows at the last word and I can only describe the way his features look as mischievous. It looks good on him.
“You? Jacob Sinclair? Reckless? Tell me one time you were reckless.”
He sits there for a moment before leaning back on hiselbows, thinking. He nods his head back and forth for a moment, attempting to find an example. “Alright, remember the time we snuck out of your house and went to the lake to skate in the middle of winter? See? Reckless,” he says, splaying out his hands like he’s showcasing something on thePrice is Right.
“Yeah, I remember almost falling through the ice and dying,” I say dramatically, because I am nothing if not dramatic. Deflector and dramatic. D&D. The great dramatic deflector. “We were stupid teenagers. We are not teenagers anymore.”
He lifts his shoulder in response. “We may not be teenagers, but that doesn’t mean we still can’t have fun, Skylar.”
Skylar.He very rarely calls me Sky and I have come to like the sound of my full name on his lips. Just his though. No one else’s. He stares me down, waiting for me to give in and I challenge him, glaring back. But I cave first, rolling my eyes and turning around to focus on getting some food for Max.
Focus on food, not on the way he’s currently leaning back, hands braced on the desk. His forearms may be covered by his thick, corduroy jacket—don’t ask me why he ownsthat, I still don’t know—but I’ve seen his forearms enough times to know exactly what they look like underneath those thick sleeves. Strong, firm, and when he crosses his arm, there’s certain veins that come to the surface that I’ve wanted to trace with my fingertips more than a few times.
He crosses his legs at the ankles, followed by his arms. It’s like he knows what he’s doing without actually knowing what he's doing. Even though part of me always thinks that he does these kinds of things on purpose, because he is fully aware of how gorgeous he is.
He knows what he looks like and he takes pride in it, which isn’t wrong, but his level of confidence drives me crazy sometimes. It’s like he’s taunting me to get on the same level as him. I try to exude confidence, but on the inside, that is a full on lie and said confidence is hiding in whatever dark corner it canfind for itself to take shelter and only come out when I want to make some sarcastic remark. My confidence is an asshole basically, but it’s too shy to voice the fact that I have been regretting the agreement we made years ago longer than I’d care to admit. I’m pretty sure I regretted it almost immediately after the words escaped my lips.
But as much as I have been questioning that choice, there’s always that little sliver of fear that he’s not going to feel the same way. We’ve always been friendly, but we have never been anything more than that.
“I never knew Skylar Waters to back down from a challenge.” He pushes himself off the desk and moves closer until we are inches apart. I can feel his breath on my cheek as he leans down into my ear and says in a low tone, “Are you nervous?”
“Yes,” I let out in a breathy voice that doesn’t sound like my own and I feel shivers course down my spine as he slowly backs away, tilting his lips up again into that all too familiar grin. This time, his left dimple makes an appearance and I look up and smile, pushing him back too hard on purpose so he stumbles into the desk behind him.
I continue what I was trying to do before he invaded my space, and pour Max his food in one bowl and water in the other. Once Max races over and starts eating, I grab my already packed hiking bag and head to the door.
When I turn around, Jacob is still standing by the desk as he runs his hand through his hair, looking at me like he’s waiting for something.
“Are you coming or not?” I ask. When I am met with silence, I add, “Or am I going to do this hike by myself?”
His face lights up and I can’t help but give him a small smile back as he makes his way around the desk. He stops in front of me and takes the maroon scarf from around his neck and winds it around mine slowly. His fingertips brush my collarbone and a deep swoop enters my body, which Ipromptly ignore and mutter a quick thanks, not meeting his eyes.
I turn the sign to closed before we exit through the door, and I pause for a moment to lock up. Then, with my pack on, I head out into the mountains with my best friend, who I definitely don’t see as anything more than that.
CHAPTER TWO
SKYLAR
“Okay, we are only going to do the shorter trail because I have things to do and I’m not hiking all night or getting stuck like my dumbass brother,” I tell Jacob as soon as we reach the entrance to the hiking trails.
“All right, all right.” He puts his hands up in front of his chest like he’s surrendering. I lead the way, Jacob a few steps behind me, and we start the hike in silence. Our footsteps softly thumping on the hard ground mix with the sounds of the leaves and branches rustling in the soft breeze. We have both hiked this trail enough times that we know the ins and outs and where we might stumble or slip.
Once we reach the higher peak, we stop for water and he finally breaks the silence with the question I know he’s been holding back since I entered the store.
