Page 7 of Off Trail Love
Growing up, I wanted to be like my dad and work for him. But now that it’s a reality, I don’t like it. But I can’t quit; what would Dad say? What would I even do? At least for the next three days, I don’t have to think about it.
We pull onto Graham’s property. It’s lush and green and there are cabins sprinkled around for when Hannah and Graham run their youth camp.
As soon as the car comes to a stop, Maggie is the first one out, grabbing her pack from the trunk and avoiding eye contact with me. I know because I can’t seem to take my eyes off her. Everything about her is familiar. The way she walks, the way she holds her head up high as she looks around.
But she won’t look at me.
That’s the one thing that’s different, and it’s killing me.
“This way to the cabin,” Graham directs. I did a little bit of research on where we’d be staying. The cabins that Graham and his wife built each hold six campers. They’re fairly spacious, but I think they’re also meant for kid campers, not adults. “You’ll all be in one. Hannah’s endometriosis has been flaring pretty bad this year, so we didn’t want to have to clean more than one cabin.”
The cabin is hot and bright when we enter. Graham moves to open one of the windows to let some air in. There’s a pack on one of the lower bunks already. Maggie drops hers on the bottom bunk of the bed next to it, and I toss my bag on the bed on top of hers.
She spins in my direction. “Seriously?”
I shrug. “Gotta keep your enemies close, right?” I grin at her and she scowls. This is going to be so much fun. I don’t think we’re actually enemies, but she seems to think so, which I’m definitely going to poke at. Pushing her buttons was always fun.
“There are plenty of other beds,” she hisses at me.
“But we’ll be bunk buddies, just for tonight.”
“Would you stop with that word?”
“What do you want me to call you instead? Love?” I wink at her, which is probably overkill. She already chewed me out for using that nickname earlier, but I can’t help myself, and when her cheeks turn pink—either in frustration or something else—I’m glad I said it. I love the color on her face.
“I hate to break up whatever this is, but Hannah and our other hiker, Fiona, are waiting for us in the mess hall.”
Maggie leaves the cabin without another word to me. Whether she wants to pretend it’s there or not, there’s a pull between us, just like there always was. She won’t be able to stay away; at least I hope she won’t. The only reason I haven’t talked to her in six years is because I haven’t found a way to contact her.
She’s not on social media, and while I did find her on a real estate website, reaching out to her that way felt like an invasion of privacy. She’s always been the one who got away. My biggestwhat if?And I don’t know why she broke all contact and disappeared after graduation.
She walks ahead of us on the trail, like she knows where she’s going. She’s Maggie, so she probably has the map of the campground memorized.
“You want to tell me what’s going on there?” Graham falls into step with me.
“Not much to tell.” I stuff my hands into my pockets. “We knew each other in high school. I had a huge crush on her back then but never told her.”
“What’d you do to make her hate you so much?” Ah, so her hostility toward me isn’t just something I noticed…not that I think she was trying to hide it.
“No clue.”
“Good luck, cousin.” Graham pats me on the back and I nod in return. I’m going to need all the luck I can get.
In the mess hall,Hannah is sitting next to another woman. She has a heating pad against her stomach and I wonder if it’s because of her endometriosis or whatever it was that Graham said earlier. When we walk in, the other woman jumps up and runs toward Maggie.
“MAGGIE!” she yells before wrapping her arms around her. This woman is tall, possibly taller than me, and I’m just under six feet. She easily picks up Maggie, who is no more than five-five.
“Fee!” Maggie laughs as she hugs this woman back. “It’s so good to see you.”
The woman sets Maggie back down and releases her from the hug before turning to me. “I already met Graham, but I haven’t met you.” She gives me a flirtatious smile. Great. This is exactly what I don’t need. She holds out her hand. “I’m Fiona Baker, and no, I’m not a baker. I’m actually a yoga instructor.”
I grip her hand in a firm handshake, because that’s the polite thing to do. “Jack Donovan.”
She drops my hand so quickly you’d think she’d been burned, and swivels to Maggie, who simply shakes her head at Fiona. “Not now,” she says under her breath. What’s that about?
When Fiona’s gaze returns to mine, she’s got a cool expression. What the crap did I do to make this stranger hate me so much? What did Maggie tell her and why have I been left out of the loop? It makes my stomach ache. All I’ve ever wanted when it comes to Maggie is to make her smile, to get her laughing. Pulling pranks on each other was the easiest way to dothat. When we started hanging out for real our sophomore year, I was in heaven. But something happened, and all I’m getting now is icy glares and cold shoulders.
I want to make her laugh again, but this Maggie is a stranger to me.
