"Looking for what?"
He shrugged. "I don't know."
"What did your dad think of that?"
"Sometimes he'd be up, too. I'd come out, and he'd be on the porch. He'd stay there, but I'd get the feeling he didn't want to, you know? That he'd rather be out here, but . . . he made himself stay on the porch. He'd let me come out, though, which is one of the reasons I loved this place. He could be damned protective in the city. But here? It was like nothing here could hurt me. He'd still call out, now and then, and I had to shout back, but otherwise I had the run of the place. Even at three in the morning. City rules didn't apply."
Our first stop was a waterfall. A tiny one, the stream dropping over a boulder, but at night the moon caught it just right and the water sparkled. That wasn't the only thing that sparkled, either. When I looked over at Ricky, crouched on the other side of the stream, his eyes danced, and gold flecks in his irises glittered in the moonlight, and I thought for a moment that I'd seen that before, the light catching his eyes a certain way. I didn't pursue it; I just watched him.
He bent and waggled his fingers under the falling water.
"Cold?" I asked.
He flicked some my way. The droplets flew onto my bare skin.
"Mmm, yes," I said. "Definitely cold."
I scooped up a handful of icy water and splashed it on my face, letting it drip down my chest. That glint in Ricky's eyes turned to a much more familiar one.
"You are fucking gorgeous," he said.
"Even dripping wet?"
"Especially dripping wet."
I reached both hands into the waterfall and splashed water on my face and chest. It didn't matter if it was ice-cold and the night wasn't much warmer. It felt amazing, that burn and bite like wind on a motorcycle, my skin blazing hot beneath the droplets. When I looked at my hands, the moonlight made the water sparkle.
Ricky stared. Then he rose and started toward me. His sneaker clomped into the water as he stepped in the stream.
"Watch out," I said. "You'll get a soaker."
"Don't care."
I backed up. "You should. You'll catch a cold."
"Old wives' tale."
"Are you sure?"
His other sneaker came down in the middle of the stream. "Don't care if it's not."
I stepped back, and when I did, that glitter in his eyes grew brighter.
"You like that," I said.
"Like what?"
I moved back more. His eyes glowed now, and his breath quickened.
"Mmm, yes," I said. "You do."
"Come here."
"I don't think you want me to."
He moved forward. "Oh, yes, I do."
"No . . . I think you'd rather work for it."