Breaking the Rules (Pushing the Limits 1.50)
“Relax. There’s no one around. You ran in circles most of the time.”
And here I thought I had been running straight. Guess I’m not as crafty as I thought. “One of these days we really will get lost if we keep straying from the path.”
“Paths are overrated. Besides, I’ll never let you get so far in front of me that I can’t catch you.”
Warm fuzzies engulf me. Noah said he’ll always be around. “Promise?”
“Promise. I’ve got no interest in letting you out of my sight.”
I pluck a daisy off a stem. Because, at times, I playfully test how far I can push Noah, I stick the flower behind his ear. He raises an eyebrow. I grin.
“I like it here,” I tell him. “This has been my favorite stop so far.”
Noah yanks the flower from behind his ear and loops it through on one of my red curls. “Want to sleep here tonight?”
“We are.” I motion with my thumb in the direction of the campsite. “Remember that tent that took us forever to put up?”
“No, I mean sleep in the field. I can grab some blankets, and we can stay here.”
“Walk all the way back to the campground then walk all the way back here?” Honestly, that prospect doesn’t bother me, but it sounds like a fantastic excuse.
“You can stay here, and I’ll get everything.”
Crap. He foiled my plot. “So we’d sleep in the open? Like alongside bugs and other things that have more legs than us crawling on me?” Or worse, things that don’t have legs and hiss and bite and have venom.
Or big things with four legs and fur. The overgrown carnivore with hair and teeth will scare me then eat me. In the end, the whole thing will be tragic.
Noah scratches the stubble on his jaw in an attempt to hide a smirk. “Yeah. The open.”
I inch forward, and Noah removes his leg and arm to allow me to sit up. Bending my knees beneath me and smoothing out my skirt, I survey the area. Risk-taking. Not my strong suit. I took a huge risk this past spring when I broke into school to keep Noah from getting arrested, but since that breakthrough moment, I’ve remained fairly calm.
My goal this summer was to change—to not be the Echo Emerson that started her senior year twelve months ago. I want to be someone different when I go to college orientation.
Footsteps crack against the ground, and Noah and I turn to observe three shirtless guys and one bikini top-clad girl walk off the path and hike in our direction. Most of them carry beach towels over their shoulders.
“Where are they going?” I ask.
“Beats me,” answers Noah, but he offers his hand to me as he stands. This I understand about Noah: he doesn’t like being caught in a defenseless position. I let him help me up, and I brush the dirt off the back of my skirt.
“I can help you with that,” says Noah with a gleam in his eye.
“You just want to touch my butt.”
“Damn straight I do. I can’t help it if you have a beautiful ass.”
My lips curve up with the compliment, and as I go to continue the banter, Noah’s muscles stiffen. He angles his body to block me from the group. He may appear relaxed to everyone else with his thumbs hitched in his jean pockets, but he’s one second away from taking any one of them out.
While there’s a part of me that sort of likes the princess-locked-in-the-turret-with-a knight-sworn-to-protect-her vibe, another part wonders when this protective streak is going to land either Noah or me or both of us in a heap of trouble.
“S’up,” Noah says when one of the guys nods at us.
“Nothing much.” The guy with surfer-blond hair tangles his fingers with the hand of the girl in the bikini top and cutoffs. “You guys camping here?”
“Yeah,” answers Noah. “You?”
“Yep. Been coming here since I was a kid. I’m Dean.” Dean introduces everyone else.
“Noah. This is my girl, Echo.”