Something Wilder

Leo’s playfully skeptical face made her laugh.

“The treasure is mostly stuff that local companies donate,” she relented. “But by the time the guests figure it out and crack the final codes, they’re so proud of themselves it doesn’t matter what’s in the cave.”

“So, you’re saying it’s in a cave,” he detective-murmured, pretending to write this bit of information down on the palm of his hand.

Lily laughed harder. “That might not be the exclusive you think it is. There are a million tiny caves everywhere.”

“Be honest,” he said. “There will be Mardi Gras necklaces and fake jewels inside a plastic treasure chest, right?”

Their gazes danced together. “There might be yo-yos and branded stress balls.”

Finally, she broke the eye contact, feeling too warm, and took her outer layer off, ignoring the way his eyes tracked her bare arms.

“Okay,” he said, “well, I promise to be a good sport and to keep Terry in line as much as possible.”

“What’s his deal, anyway?”

“We went to school together, but he’s more a friend of a friend, someone I see at weddings and stuff. He’s never usually invited on these trips, for obvious reasons. If he gets to be a problem, I’ll handle it.”

She nodded, leaning back and settling her feet on a big rock bordering the fire.

“One last question,” he said, “if we’re still clearing the air.”

Lily hummed. The fire was gently warm, and somehow it matched the energy between them. Calming. Thawing. Nothing was exploding and shooting heated sparks into the sky. “Go ahead.”

“Whatever happened with Duke?” he asked. “Did you two ever work it out? Where is he?”

Laughing wryly, Lily pressed a palm to her forehead. How many cans of worms would they open tonight?

But the first words of her answer were drowned out by the abrupt sound of Nicole hollering, “What the hell are you doing?”

Before she even registered she’d moved, Lily was up, jogging toward the tents just as Terry yelled back, “Taking a fucking leak, princess!”

Lily paused, relaxing in relief before rounding a small grouping of rocks to reach the tent circle. In the shadows, Terry stood between his and Nic’s tents, with his pants slung low on his hips and his—

“Oh God!” She quickly looked away.

“This fool was pissing on the side of my tent,” Nic seethed, pointing to where Terry stood with his dick in his hand. “Are you out of your damn mind? Pull your pants up!”

“It’s late,” Terry reminded her snidely. “You told us not to wander away in the dark, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, but you can take ten goddamn steps to pee!”

Deciding this wasn’t a crisis that required both of them, Lily moved away, pulling in a deep breath. She felt whiplashed. On her left was Terry being Terry; on her right lingered the emotional contrails of her bombshell conversation with Leo.

Counting to three, she let the adrenaline clear from her blood. But it was slow to diffuse, and even after several deep breaths, her fingers shook; she still felt unsteady. The truth was all settling in now. She thought he’d left to help his mother recover from a broken leg, maybe a concussion. In Lily’s world, people got injured all the time, but when she was young, no one she’d known had ever died from an accident. It’d never crossed her mind that when Leo had gone home, everything might have been so much more terrible than they’d understood. She’d seen herself as the wounded party for so long, but now had the nauseating realization that they were all simply the victims of shitty circumstances.

Leo stood nearby, an unspeaking and unmoving presence. She could turn around and go back to her spot next to the fire and answer the enormous question he’d just posed: Whatever happened with Duke? But an even larger part of her knew they could have the conversation and it wouldn’t matter. The truth about tragedy was that once it struck, nothing on this wide green earth could make it any better. Leo had been her spark, had brought a glimpse of love and laughter and security into her life, but his departure had only proven what she’d already known: good things don’t stick around.

The air away from the fire was cool and dry, and when Lily looked over her shoulder at him, she saw in his eyes that he knew it, too: their moment had passed.

He smiled, releasing her. “Sleep well, Lily.”

Chapter Ten

NOT EVEN SEVEN days a week of the toughest Tabata class at the Upper East Side Equinox could have prepared Leo for the pain that greeted him every morning of this trip. By their fourth day, it was slightly easier, but that first step out of the tent remained excruciating. For the first twenty minutes every day, he could barely walk, and it wasn’t just a sore ass and legs and back; even taking a deep breath was painful. Bending to spit out his toothpaste caused a frantic spasm in his side. He wasn’t sure whether he should blame the cold, the dry air, the hours on a horse, or the nights spent sleeping on the ground, but he woke up feeling like he’d aged a decade.