Wanderlust

“In another life, yes. Come on. If you don’t like it, you can get back out.”

Oh fine. I toed off my shoes beside his on the dry, sandy bank. The first touch of water sent a shock up my spine, and I gasped. But I forced myself all the way inside, both fearful and excited of the strange feeling of cool water threading between my toes. The current was much stronger than it looked from the surface. It felt like it was pulling me along with it, and I had to fight just to stand still. The rocks beneath my feet were smooth and slippery.

Exhilarated, I stood in the middle of the river and looked around at the trees and fog-frosted mountains. I’d seen all of this before from just ten feet away on the bank, but it was different here. Now I was immersed, experiencing the sights as well as seeing them.

A smile of wonder crept over my face. Hunter grinned back at me, suddenly looking boyish.

“Well?” he asked.

“Not bad.”

“Hah. You love it.”

“Okay, I hate you five percent less.”

He rolled his eyes and turned to walk in the direction of the current. “Come on, let’s go.”

“Wait, where are you going?”

“I thought you wanted to see the waterfall.”

“Uh, yeah. See it. Not fall to my death in it.”

“You’re not going to die.”

“I know, because I’m not going over there.”

He shrugged. “Suit yourself. I’ll meet you back at the truck.”

“No, wait. Okay, I’m coming.”

I followed him through the river, feeling nervous but excited. I was walking through a river in a secluded park toward a waterfall. I was doing this. And I never would have done so without Hunter. I put that thought aside and focused on my steps. I slipped off a particularly rounded rock, and Hunter reached back to steady me.

“You good?” he asked, breathless. His eyes shone with excitement too. I’d never seen him so alive, so intense except when we had sex. In a way these were both carnal things, to roam and to fuck. He was a carnal man, one who found pleasure in doing and living and being. It radiated from him, and I absorbed his enthusiasm by osmosis.

No more attitude, I told myself. Not today. Just enjoy this.

“I’m good,” I said, grinning.

When we reached the edge, I looked down at the rush in awe. I couldn’t see the bottom, just the white, glittery mist a few feet down. But farther along I could see the river continue, calm again. I felt powerful, as if the water running past my shins were channeled through me.

“Crazy,” I said, not taking my eyes off the panoramic view.

“Crazy,” he agreed. “And now we jump.”

My heart sank. “I thought you were joking about that.”

“I never joke about extreme sports,” he said solemnly.

That tugged a smile out of me. I wished he weren’t so endearing when he wasn’t terrorizing me. I looked down at the waterfall again. Not that far. Definitely the kind of thing someone could survive—just not me.

“Evie,” he said in a cajoling tone. “It’s amazing. Trust me.”

“I don’t trust you,” I said automatically, knowing it to be a lie.

“It feels like flying.”

“Not very well, I guess, since you fall.”