Kiss Me Again

by Wood, Vivian

  I can’t find the words to say what I’m feeling for him, especially when I don't know what to even call the complex torrent of emotions I feel every time I look at him.

  I feel angry. Sad. Intrigued. Humiliated. Depressed.

  But god help me if he shoots me one of his brooding looks…

  Because then I am too busy remembering why I found him so fucking attractive to begin with.

  It’s easier just to keep my mouth shut than to try to explain any of it to Grayson. And since he’s avoiding me, it’s pretty much a given anyway.

  When we finally get back to the campsite three days later, there is someone waiting for us. As we march into camp, I can only see that back of his blond head, but he’s dressed head to toe in brand new Patagonia clothes. He’s leaning against his ruby red Range Rover, his head bent as he looks at his phone.

  Knowing immediately who it is, I sigh heavily.

  “Who is that?” Grayson asks, squinting.

  “That would be Clay.” My lips form a half-sneer. “He was my boyfriend until very recently.”

  “Oh.”

  I can tell that Grayson doesn’t quite know how to feel about that bit of news. Smiling humorlessly, I decide to let him in on the secret.

  “He cheated on me.”

  Grayson’s eyebrows lift. “Do you want me to send him on his way? I may be grown, but I can still thrash some pansy piece of trash if you want me to.”

  That pulls a smile from my lips. “I never doubted it for a second. But no, I assume that Clay is here on Civicore business. And since they are sponsoring my trip this summer I think it would send the wrong signals.”

  Not wanting to answer any of the questions that my response will no doubt provoke, I push forward. Clay finally notices us when we’re a dozen paces away, looking a little surprised.

  If I could summarize Clay in one phrase, it would be perpetually surprised.

  “Rachel,” he says, pulling off his Mostcot sunglasses. “You look… suntanned.”

  I have no patience for him. Actually, despite what I just said to Grayson, I have no patience for this entire visit. I don’t want to be emotionally manipulated and yet here is my cheating ex, visiting me unannounced.

  Especially after all that Grayson recently shared with me, I’m too wound up and too raw to have any kind of tolerance for Clay’s bullshit.

  “What are you doing here, Clay?” I grit out.

  He ignores me, turning his attention to Grayson. “You’re quite large, aren’t you? I’m Clay Attenborough. Civicore’s VP of marketing.”

  He extends a hand. Grayson looks him up and down then steps up to him, much closer than social niceties indicate is appropriate, and squeezes his hand aggressively. Clay yelps and struggles to get out of Grayson’s grip.

  Grayson lets him go, smiling so that we can see his perfectly white teeth. “Grayson Sellwood, park ranger.”

  Clay gives him a searching look, dusting off his olive green Patagonia jacket. “I don’t think I like you.”

  Grayson gives him a toothy grin and leans in. “Same, brother.”

  Clay narrows his eyes, but Grayson is so much taller and broader than him that he can’t push his luck. He clears his throat and looks at me.

  “Rachel, I came to see how you were getting along way out here in the middle of nowhere.”

  I fold my arms across my chest. “You’ve seen me. Run along and report back to my father.”

  Stepping away from Grayson, Clay shoots me an uneasy smile. “I’m afraid that isn’t enough. I want to see you one on one to make sure you’re not being unduly influenced. You are, after all, an heiress. Your family is worried about you.”

  “Over my dead body,” Grayson snaps, taking a threatening step towards Clay.

  Clay pales. “Rachel, call off your guard dog.”

  I raise my brows. “I don’t control Grayson.”

  Clay bristles. “If you two are going to make me feel unwelcome here, that’s your business. But Civicore will hear about it.”

  I snort. “Okay.”

  He fires back. “I doubt your father will be pleased. He might even withdraw your funding.”

  I stiffen. “On your word alone? I don't think so.”

  But I totally do, and the look in Clay’s eyes says that he knows it. He smirks at me.

  “I think you two would be wise to be a little nicer to me. I was thinking that we would go rock climbing while I’m here…” He flexes his muscles and looks at Grayson. “I’m the best climber on the rock-climbing wall at my gym at home.”

  Grayson’s eye roll is epic. “That’s great.”

  Clay casts a jaundiced eye over him. “Don’t you have somewhere else to be? A shower, perhaps?”

  Grayson turns to look at me. I sigh. “You should go have some downtime. I’ll entertain our surprise guest.”

  With a shrug of his massive shoulders, Grayson heads off toward where his hammock hangs. Clay looks at me speculatively.

  “I guess you aren’t concerned about getting sun, then.”

  “Shut up, Clay.” I head for my tiny cabin, my mood ruined. I need to blow off some steam or just scream into a pillow or something, but there is still Clay to deal with. “You can take the other cabin.”

  Clay is right on my heels. “Did you get my care package?”

  His hopeful voice makes me want to puke. Instead I just keep it all inside.

  “Yep.”

  “Did you like it?”

  I open the front door to my cabin, turning around in the doorway to stop Clay from bursting into my domain. “I didn’t eat any of it. I gave most of it to Grayson.”

  Clay leans against the doorway, cocking his head. “I gather that you knew him before at some point?”

  I cringe internally. Clay has been talking to my mother too, apparently. I want to say that I thought better of her, but the truth is I don’t even find it surprising.

  “Yes,” I admit.

  He throws a look back over his shoulder, double checking for Grayson.

  “I didn’t even realize you two were talking.” He smirks. “I guess I’m not the only one who was unfaithful. I’m guessing he is why you came out here?”

  My face contorts with rage. I step closer to him. “You would be wrong on both counts, Clay. And I was never with anyone else while we were together.”

  Clay looks puzzled. “What do you mean, while we were together? We are still a great team. We’re just going through a rough patch.”

  He reaches out to touch me. I yank myself free of him. “You’re fucking delusional. We were through the moment you looked at another woman.”

  “Baby—” He tries to catch my arm.

  “If you so much as touch me again, I swear to god I will scream for Grayson.”

  “Whoa.” He steps back and raises his hand. “What was that about not controlling your guard dog, again?” He grins. “He must be a good doggie for you to live in the woods to be near him.”

  “Why are you like this?” I ask.

  “Seriously. We are just a modern couple. You have that cro-magnon, I have Lucy—”

  “Stop it!” I hiss.

  “Not that I like having him rubbed in my face. But while I’m here, you two can stop playing around…”

  “Oh!” I cry, slamming the door in his face. Frustrated tears appear in the corners of my eyes. I sit on the bed in a huff, my mind awhirl.

  I wish that I hadn’t sent Grayson away, honestly. Venting never seemed so appealing as it does right now. But I did, so I just sit in the cabin for a minute and wring my hands. I feel like I have so many thoughts trying to surface all at once.

  The look on Clay’s face when I caught him in my bed with that other girl.

  How domineering my father is, to send Clay to check up on me.

  And the feeling I had while I watched Grayson menacing Clay on my behalf.

  For a fleeting moment, I felt…

  Relieved?

  Avenged?

  Cared for?
r />   Something more than the self-righteousness that the situation called for, that’s for sure.

  Ugh. I should do something to make sure that Clay returns to New York with a clear understanding of our situation. I just don't know what.

  Grayson pops into my head. More specifically, the feel of his lips pressed against mine.

  It might be insane, but I can think of one way to drive the point home to Clay. It feels weird to consider using Grayson as a pawn in this fucked up game. But I can’t think of any better way to get it through Clay’s thick head.

  Why not do what my body is begging me to do already? It will give me some relief. Hell, Grayson and I are both so horny that we can barely breathe for wanting it so bad.

  A small smile settles on my lips. I have to sleep with Grayson and I can’t be subtle about it.

  Pulling a face, I correct my thoughts.

  Alright, maybe I won’t actually sleep with Grayson. Maybe I’ll just make it look like I definitely am. Enthusiastically, over and over again.

  That will make Clay go away. And it will free me to continue on with my summer. I can finally make the choices that I’ve always wanted, even if it’s only until fall.

  My hands tremble, just having the idea. But at the same time, my heart soars.

  I can trust Grayson not to take it too far. At least I hope I can. He owes me that much for walking out of my life, at the very least.

  Standing up, I feel nervous. Am I really going to do this?

  When I open the door and see cocky Clay leaning against his Range Rover, looking bored, my determination musters itself. I’m doing it, no doubt about it.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Grayson

  Laying in my hammock, I seethe. I can’t believe that Rachel dated that piece of wealthy trash.

  Clay.

  Ugh. He oozes an unlikeable quality out of every pore. And I would be willing to bet that he thinks he’s a shark, that other men aren’t supposed to like him.

  There aren’t enough eye rolls in the world to express how I feel about the guy. Seeing him touch Rachel was almost enough to make me snap. I feel like that says a little more about my feelings for Rachel than about any quality of Clay’s, but I digress.

  The feeling of jealousy slides through my stomach like a cold knife. It makes me realize that I’m not over Rachel. I still feel some type of way about her, no matter what I’ve been telling myself.

  I hear footsteps in the woods, coming towards me. Sitting up, I wait. Although I am thousands of miles away from the desert, there is something reminiscent about waiting and watching that makes me uncomfortable. My muscles clench, tensing up for a fight.

  But then I see Rachel, stalking toward me with a determined look on her face. At first I start listing to myself the things that she could be mad about. Namely that I kissed her a few days ago and I have been trying not to bring that conversation up… ever.

  She tosses her head as she storms up to me. “I need to talk to you in private,” she says through clenched teeth.

  Fuck. She’s going to want to talk about that kiss. Fuck.

  She lifts her eyebrows, shooting an annoyed glance over her shoulder. I clamber out of my hammock, bringing myself to my full height. Her brown eyes take in my full form, a little hesitation on her face. She bites her lip for a second and a crease forms between her brows.

  Then Rachel jerks her head. “Come on. This way.”

  She sets off in the opposite direction of the camp, moving so quickly that I have to nearly trot to keep up. I have to admire that in her, because she’s all but flat-out running. A smile creeps onto my face as I watch her little body in motion.

  We walk a few minutes away and then she suddenly whirls around.

  “I need you.”

  My whole body perks up. “You need me?”

  She sucks her bottom lip in between her teeth again. I like the deep shade of pink that she turns.

  “Yes.” She hesitates. “I need you to pretend we are having sex, to drive Clay away. I mean, we would fake it, obviously, but…”

  That is just not what I expected her to say. My eyebrows shoot up. “What?”

  “I need you to help me fool Clay. Just… I need him gone. Please?”

  She pins me with a beseeching look, one that I have never been able to say no to. I feel my resistance sliding away.

  “Okay…” I agree, narrowing my eyes. “I need a little more than that.”

  She can’t even meet my gaze. “No, it’s just… I need it to be really, really believable. He already thinks we’re doing something together up here in the mountains, so…”

  Her blush deepens. I would crack up at how embarrassed she is, but this affects me too.

  “I don't know, Rachel…”

  She looks up and catches me gaze, locking me in place. “Don’t you think you owe me at least one favor?”

  The ferocity of her statement takes me breath away. Now I’m the one who can’t meet her gaze. I let my eyes slide down and away.

  She’s right, of course. There is so much that I owe her for. I can’t even begin to set the course right again, but I can do this. It’s a decent start.

  “All right.”

  She looks a little surprised. “All right?”

  I rub the back of my neck and nod. “Yes.”

  “Oh.” She straightens her back. “I mean… great. That’s what I wanted.”

  “Good.” I fidget. “Great.”

  “Umm.” She blushes again. “Do you think maybe we should establish some ground rules, considering our history?”

  There is nothing I want to do less, honestly. “I think as long as it’s fake, we should be okay. Right?”

  She sucks in a breath and looks me in the eye. “You think so?”

  I shrug. “We’re both adults, Rachel. We should be able to fake having sex without it getting messy.”

  She blows out her breath in a stream. “Yeah. I mean… we don't have to start right now, do we?”

  “No.” I fold my arms across my chest. “We can start after dinner, if you want. It would give us both the opportunity to shower.”

  She gives me a vague smile. “Are you saying that I smell bad?”

  I shrug again, playing stoic. “I’ve smelled worse.”

  Rachel rolls her eyes. “I would argue with you, but I’m absolutely certain that I need to bathe. I’ll see you in a couple of hours?”

  Her slightly embarrassed expression makes me crack a smile.

  “Yep. Be prepared to have an instant boyfriend.”

  Her eyes narrow even though she doesn’t have anything to argue with me about. She just makes a little hmm noise and tosses her hair, heading back to the camp site. I watch her go, my heart beating loudly against my ribs.

  Yup. I definitely just agreed to her ridiculous plan just because she pulled the hurt baby deer card. It absolutely is a terrible plan and I can already feel the repercussions weighing down on my shoulders.

  But I still feel an immense amount of guilt for leaving Rachel. If she cites the hurt I caused her back then, I would walk barefoot through hot coals for her. I probably would’ve been better off doing that; at least walking on coals would only punish me until the heat blisters faded.

  The effects of having a fake relationship are entirely unknown at this point.

  Fuck.

  Fuck, I’m in this thing now. Not only that, but I’m panicking. Her guilt trip might have been innocently meant, but for me the ramifications are all too real.

  I close my eyes and suck in a breath. I say the words that I need to hear.

  “It is the year 2018.” I suck in another breath. “It is the fifth month, the month of May. It is the fourteenth of the month, a Thursday. I’m currently in the Olympic National Park. My name is Grayson James Sellwood and I am okay.”

  I keep reciting my mantra for the next two hours, through cleaning myself up and meditation practice. As the sun begins to slip lower in the sky, I feel centered enough to begin wa
lking to the camp site.

  As I walk, I give myself a pep talk.

  I can do this. I’ll just concentrate on making the meal and let her do the heavy lifting, “relationship”-wise.

  When I get to the camp site, there is already a meal laid out on a rusty little table that Rachel dragged over from behind the cabins. Three weathered folding camp chairs have been pulled up to the table. Clay is sitting in one, his expression bored.

  Rachel carries three metal drinking mugs over from her cabin, favoring Clay with a look that is nothing short of murderous. When she spots me, she perks up. It’s the strangest feeling ever, after the last ten days of weirdness.

  “Hey you,” she greets me. She sets the mugs down on the table. “Clay brought dinner all the way from Seattle.”

  I pull up one of the chairs to the table, looking at the food. There is a large salad and pasta with red sauce. It looks delicious, no lie. Then again, I haven’t really eaten a full meal today.

  “It’s all growing cold or hot,” Clay criticizes. “We should’ve eaten as soon as I arrived.”

  Rachel ignores him. She scoots her chair closer to mine, shooting me a meaningful smile.

  “It looks great. Isn’t that right, darling?”

  Clay and I both freeze. I fumble for words. “Umm…”

  She smiles wider. “Here, let me serve you.”

  She uses two forks to add a heap of salad to my plate and then spoons several huge piles of pasta next to that. I’m a little baffled by her behavior, but it’s obviously working. Clay is shooting us glares and muttering under his breath.

  I tuck into the meal, more concerned about how delicious the pasta is than Clay’s animosity. Rachel is busy putting on a show, though.

  “Mmm,” she says, taking a bite of the pasta. “I don't know if it’s the fresh air out here or what, but this might be the best pasta I’ve ever had. You’ll have to give me the name so I can go there again, Clay.”

  Clay doesn’t look pleased to hear that. “Why bother knowing the name of someplace you’ll probably never have time to visit?”

  Her lips lift. “Oh, I don't know about that. You get into the city pretty regularly, right Gray?”