I didn’t mention my rapidly building concern that, once we were in the forest, surrounded by all-seeing trees and all-knowing birds, things would change once again.
That the fight to see her as my…lover…and not just my friend, was just the first of our many problems.
Hopefully, by the time we were alone and ready to do whatever it was we’d do, I’d have that part of myself under control. And she’d never have to see me as anything other than her sweet, protective Ren.
My phone vibrated just as I rolled onto my side, ready to rest so I wasn’t wired from lack of sleep tomorrow.
It would already be hard enough; I didn’t need to be fighting exhaustion.
Della: I never want to come back. Kiss me. Hug me. Let him see that this is real, and you can take me wherever you want, for however long you want, any way you want. And yes, that’s a thinly veiled sexual innuendo. The kind that I’ve been dying to say to you for years. To be free to finally do it…I have to keep pinching myself to believe it’s real. Until tomorrow, Ren. Xxx
My body hardened at the thought of kissing her again, followed immediately by the nauseous feeling of doing something wrong.
Here she was messaging me things we’d danced around for years, all while sleeping in the same house as the boy she’d lost her virginity to. Strange how actions had driven us to this place, and they were about to drive us to somewhere new entirely.
Sighing heavily, I adjusted myself before typing two words.
Two terrifying, exhilarating, life-changing, heart-winging words.
Me: Until tomorrow.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
REN
* * * * * *
2018
MY BACK ACHED from carrying two sets of camping gear.
One clinging to my shoulders, the other dangling from my hands.
Two over stuffed backpacks. Two sleeping bags. Two wardrobes for two people about to say goodbye to buildings and bills and people.
Unlike when I was a kid—fearing I didn’t belong and would be noticed—I boldly wore my earth tone t-shirt and cargos. Wanting them to see that I didn’t bow to fashion or conformity, that I only wore clothes for one purpose: practicality.
My pockets were full of matches, lighters, knives, and first-aid kits.
I had enough snares and traps to ensure we didn’t need a supermarket for weeks and enough packets of rice, pasta, and other easy-to-cook things that meant we could vanish into the woods and never been seen again.
Not by this city or its inhabitants, at least.
Good riddance.
Coming to a stop outside the house I knew well, the same street where I’d stood and watched Della with despicable shame, I couldn’t take another step.
My boots—complete with yet another knife tucked by my ankle and tramping socks protecting toes from blisters—froze to the pavement. I physically couldn’t open the white picket fence or stride up the pretty garden path.
The same path where David had hugged and kissed my Della. The same path where I’d carried Della from accidentally punching her the night I tore her from David’s bed.
Fuck.
The front door swung wide as Della bounded from the house, her blonde hair secured in a ponytail, her lithe body encased in sturdy jeans, dusky pink t-shirt, and matching hiking boots.
No dresses or stupid sandals.
An outfit to run.
A dress code of living in the forest.
We’re really doing this.
My stomach clenched for the fortieth time since I’d handed back the key to the apartment, done one final sweep of the place, tossed out the last of our accumulated junk, and made my way here.
Early afternoon and our lives were about to swerve into terrifying territory—not because we were homeless again, but because I was petrified of what would happen the moment our tent was erected and the stars announced our bedtime.
Would we sleep together tonight?
Was I ready?
Would I ever be?
She didn’t stop until she flew to the gate and unlatched it, granting me invitation to step onto another man’s property. “You came.”
“Of course, I came.” I scowled, unable to stop my stress from tainting my voice. “This is hard enough without you doubting me and acting surprised every second.”
She smiled, dipping her head. “You’ve been gone for six months, Ren. You’ll have to get used to me poking you at random times just to make sure you’re real. I missed you.” Stepping toward me, she ducked around the backpack I held in front of me, slotting her body into mine. “I missed you so much—you have no idea.”
My fingers tightened on the rucksack straps, desperate to drop it, but propriety still commanded I keep it as a barrier between us, even as my heart yearned to gather her close.
My temper softened at the pain on her face. “I have some idea, Della.” Ducking to kiss her swiftly on her cheek like I’d done for years—an innocent peck that was permitted—I murmured, “I missed you, too. Enough to make me face things I never wanted to face.”