I huff out a breath, acting like my heart isn’t already pounding and I’m not already sweating. I try to surreptitiously check the Fitbit to see how far we’ve walked. Oh great, one fifth of a mile. And we’ve only got … five and four-fifths miles to go, roundtrip.
Damn you, Maxine, I think as I contemplate the idea of spending the next several hours in the heat, sweating and choking on my own spit, walking for fun. Like, who does that? Only crazy people and Pacific Northwest natives.
“If you get tired or you just want to turn around for whatever reason, let me know. No judgement.” He looks back at me, smiling still, looking stupid handsome and athletic and confident, like he’s done this a million times before. “But, if you tough it out, you’ll get to see an awesome waterfall at the end.”
“Is it worth it?” I ask skeptically, and Maxx laughs, the sound echoing around the empty road.
“It’s worth it, I promise,” he says, and then he takes my hand again and I know for a fact that if he didn’t belong to Maxine—the most important person in the world to me—that I would’ve fallen for him. Hard. Irreversibly. Inextricably.
Alas, some things are just not meant to be.
Two miles into the hike and I’m hating it as much as I knew I would. I’d much rather be back at Danyella’s, lounging in her hot tub and drinking a bottle of stolen champagne from her parents’ extensive selection of alcohol.
Then again, it’s giving me a chance to get to know Maxx which is interesting.
“So, do you ever call Chasm by his real name?” I ask, just as Maxx wraps up a tale about how he, as a fourteen-year-old asshole, got twelve-year-old Parrish and Chasm to help him steal his father’s credit card so they could buy a bunch of a pay-to-win crap on a stupid app. Needless to say, it didn’t go well for any of them.
“Kwang-seon?” he queries, and then grins again. He grins a lot, Maxx does. He’s always smiling, and when he talks, he gets animated. Also, even though we’re slowly climbing in altitude, he isn’t panting or sweating. Me, on the other hand, I feel like I’ve gone swimming in a sweat bath. My bangs are plastered to my forehead and I’m sure I don’t smell great. “Nah, not much. Unless his dad’s around. If he even gets a whiff of the word Chasm, he practically shits himself.”
Chasm’s dad … I have yet to meet the man, but I’m curious. Who leaves their son in another country for nine years and barely visits him? He sounds like a dick.
“What about your parents?” I ask, huffing and puffing as we come around a corner and I groan at the sight of yet another incline. To be fair, the scenery is stunning. The trees keep us shaded from the sun, and every now and again, I get a peek between them at the valley below. I’ve already seen three garter snakes and more birds than I can count.
“My parents?” Maxx replies, glancing over his shoulder and then pausing when he sees how hard I’m struggling to keep up. He waits for me to catch up and then keeps pace with me which, for him, means slowing down drastically. “They’re alright. A little single-minded sometimes, but who isn’t when they’ve got a passion?”
“For motocross?” I clarify, wondering if he’s ever taken Maxine out on a bike. I bet she’d like that. To be honest, I’m pretty sure Maxx and Maxine are a match made in heaven. Hell, they even have the same damn name.
“If they had their way, I’d skip out on college and work on my motocross career instead, be the next Chad Reed or Ricky Carmichael. Be more like my sister, really.” Even though I can tell this is a bit of a sore spot for Maxx, he doesn’t whine or complain; it’s more like he’s stating basic facts. “They were excited to hear I decided on athletic training for my major though.”
“Athletic training?” I echo, realizing now more than ever that Maxx Wright is essentially the opposite of me. Parrish is basically me with a penis (and an entitled rich boy mantle) while Chasm is a little of both. In academics, Chas is my opposite; in emotions and experience, we’re fairly similar. Aaaand why, exactly, am I comparing the three boys? Either to each other or to myself … It’s a fruitless exercise.
“Just a gateway degree for my career in sports medicine.” Maxx flashes another one of those pretty smiles at me. “How about you? Any career plans in mind yet? I know you’re only a sophomore, but it’s never too early to start planning.”
“Are you sure you’re only nineteen?” I grumble, and he chuckles at me, this deep, warm masculine chuckle that’s annoyingly charming. Seriously, my sister won the lottery here. I manage to steer the conversation away from future career plans. When I told Tess that I wanted to create things, I meant it. It’s just … I have no clue what I want to create or how to make money doing it.
Just when I’ve decided that imminent death is upon me—Gamer Girl needs water badly; Gamer Girl is about to die—we come to a crossroads in the trail, and I hear the first sound of running water.
If I had cat ears, they’d have perked up at the sound.
“We’re here?” I choke out between breaths and Maxx nods, giving this dramatic flourish of his hand to show me which of the three paths to take.
“After you, milady,” he says, and we make quick work of the remaining quarter mile, coming around a bend to find a massive waterfall and a picturesque creek. For a moment, I just stop and stand there, my hands curled around the straps of my backpack, my heartbeat racing from the trek, sweat pouring down my spine. “Was I right?” Maxx whispers, leaning down from behind me, so close that his breath seems to tickle my ear. “Was it worth it?”
“So worth it,” I breathe, making my way across a small cement ‘bridge’ that looks like some leftover remnant from a dam or … something. It’s just wide enough for a single person to cross and only about six feet long. I plop down right in the center of it and start by taking my shoes off. With a deep groan, I drop my hot and achy feet into the cool water and let my head fall back. “This is heaven.”
Maxx joins me, taking his shoes off, too, and then unzipping my backpack for me.
“Drink,” he commands, handing over my water bottle. For a good twenty minutes, we sit in near silence, catching our breaths, drinking water, and munching down on some hippie-as-hell granola bars that Maxine packed. Mine has a note wrapped around it with a rubber band. Eat every bite to refuel! Love you fierce, and I knew you could do it—you’re at the waterfall, aren’t you? A smile takes over my lips unbidden; only an older sister could know you this well. A real sister, which is what Maxine will always be.
Kimber would’ve sent me with a death wish.
“I’m afraid Tess will never feel like a mother to me.” The words come out, even though I don’t mean them to. There’s something about sitting here alone with Maxx after a long-ass hike, in front of this beautiful waterfall, that makes me want to talk. “I’m afraid I’ll be stuck here for two years and then, once I’m eighteen and I’m free, I won’t know where I belong anymore. I’m not even sure that if I went back to New York now, that I’d fit in there. So, I guess what I’m saying is, I don’t feel like I fit in anywhere now.”
Maxx is quiet for a long time, so long that I end up looking over to see if he’s even listening to me. He’s leaning back, staring up at the falls with a contemplative expression on his handsome face. Eventually, I realize that he’s genuinely mulling over my words and carefully weighing his response.
Told ya he was just like Maxine.
“Don’t wait around for the world to let you fit in; make space for yourself.” He glances over at me, those emerald eyes of his enhanced by the reflection of the sun on the water and the backdrop of brown and green from the forest. He fits in out here, and, even though I still wouldn’t consider myself a hiker, I feel like I might fit in out here, too. That’s the best thing about nature; we all fit into it if we let ourselves. “Don’t ask for permission; own your space. Take it. If you make sure you’re comfortable with yourself, you’ll fit in wherever you are.” There’s a pause as I bite my lip and turn back to the waterfall. It really is stunning. I mean, it’s no Niagara Fal
ls or anything, but it’s impressive anyway, and the best part is, there’s nobody else around. “As far as Tess goes …” Maxx sits up straight and puts his hands on the thighs of his fancy hiking pants. “She really is a good person, but she gets caught up in her head sometimes.” He quirks a bit of a smile and flicks his gaze to me. “And I know this is going to sound crazy since we’ve spent all of twelve total hours together, but … I think you and Tess are more similar than you think. Based on how much Maxine talks about you, it feels like I know you. You have the same quirks.” He reaches out and taps me in the center of the forehead, and I frown.
Am I like Tess? I feel like we’re oil and water. She’s harsh and critical and controlling. If she were more like her books, I might think we were birds of a feather.
“Don’t obsess over it, just … try to lean in.” Maxx unzips his backpack and tosses me a towel (the dude thinks of everything). “You should dry off and we can get moving again.”
Even though the idea of hiking back the way we just came makes me feel stabby … I like Maxx’s advice. It’s the best, most encouraging advice I’ve gotten from anyone thus far. I owe Maxine a serious thank you for lending me her boyfriend today.
A serious fucking thank you.
On the way back, my tired ass misses a rock on the path, and I end up sprawled on my hands and knees, cursing and bleeding. Maxx is there in an instant, squatting down and helping me into a sitting position. He takes my hands in his and then curses under his breath. He then magics a first-aid kit from his backpack and efficiently and quickly cleans my wounds.
“It’s not all that bad,” I mutter, but I can’t seem to gather the strength to pull my hands away from him. “Guess you’re getting started early on that sports medicine career, huh?”
Maxx chuckles at me again, smoothing antibacterial ointment onto my palms and then tucking away his supplies again.
“Practice makes perfect,” he says, standing up and then holding out a hand to help me. “I’ve got to get those ten thousand hours in.”
“Pretty sure I have ten thousand gaming hours in already. Do you think I could go pro?” I accept Maxx’s help, ignoring the throbbing in my ankle until I try to put weight on it and find myself collapsing again. Like a boss, Maxx catches me before I hit the ground.
“Did you sprain your ankle?” he asks, so close, almost too close. I feel like I’m betraying Maxine somehow by having his hand on my arm.
“No, I’m okay … I think.” I carefully withdraw my arm and then try out one step. Another. It fucking hurts, but I’m almost too nervous to admit it. A quick glance at my Fitbit shows me that we’ve walked about four miles total, meaning we have two left. Two miles, on a bum ankle. Fantastic.
“Mm, I think not.” Maxx squats down and lifts the leg of my pants, examining my ankle with probing fingers. Each time he touches me, it hurts, even though he’s being gentle. “You sprained it pretty badly, Kota.”
Kota.
Being called by my childhood nickname is therapeutic for me.
I exhale sharply.
“Find me a stick to use as a crutch?” I offer, but Maxx is already turning around and bending low in front of me.
“Hop on.” He glances back over his shoulder and catches sight of what must be a fairly skeptical expression on my part. “I’m majoring in athletic training, remember? This is what I was built for. Climb on, I’ve got this.”
“You can’t carry me for two miles …” I start, but he’s already gesturing at me to climb on again.
“Trust me: I’ve got this.”
I ignore him for a moment, testing my ankle again before I realize with a sharp pang that I’m not going to be able to make it the rest of the way back unless I crawl. Or hop. Yeah, I could probably hop …
“Don’t make me call Maxine,” he warns, and that does it. I’m hopping up on his back while Maxx catches my legs with his arms. Squeezing my eyes shut tight, I do my best not to think about the fact that I’m not only pressed up intimately against my sister’s boyfriend’s back, but also that my legs are wrapped around him.
Ugh.
This. freaking. blows.
“Are you sure you’re alright?” I ask, because it can’t be easy to carry someone on a hike that I was struggling to manage with only my own weight. Also, I’m up close and personal with Maxx’s neck, and I can see quite clearly that he’s sweating.
“I’ve got you, no worries.”
I do my best to relax, trying to enjoy the ride instead of dreading it. Eventually, I let myself go completely limp against Maxx’s back, hugging his neck, and appreciating his long, steady strides. It’d be relaxing, if I didn’t happen to glance back and see someone following us.
There’s a man, not too far off, wearing a hat and using a walking stick. I didn’t notice him before, so I figure he must’ve come up one of the other trails at the crossroads. He seems to be keeping a quicker pace than us and should pass by soon.
After a while, however, I realize that he’s not going anywhere. He’s not catching up to us, and he isn’t falling back either. Frankly, it’s creepy as hell.
“There’s a man following us,” I whisper, and Maxx pauses briefly, turning us both so he can look back.
“You can pass if you need to; I’ll be carrying her for a while,” he calls out, but the man doesn’t answer. He just keeps walking, but Maxx stays right where he is. My anxiety spikes the closer the guy gets to us, reminding me that girls hiking are never really safe. Men can be monsters for sure.
The man breezes past us, and I swear to god, I get the chills as he goes. His face is impossible to see, with his hat pulled low the way it is.
Maxx watches him for a while, but since I’m riding on his back, I can’t see his face.
“Weirdo,” he murmurs, and I can’t decide if he’s just absently insulting the guy … or if he’s freaked out by him. Either way, we continue walking, dappled sunlight falling across Maxx’s espresso colored hair.
“If you and Maxine have babies together, they’d all have dark hair.” I tousle Maxx’s hair as I say it, and he stops walking. Seriously, he just freezes right there in the middle of the pathway, and I jostle up even closer against his back, squeezing my eyes shut tight and breathing through the weirdness I’m feeling right now. “Sorry, I have no idea why I just said that.”
There’s a pause before Maxx responds, but I can hear the smile in his voice.
“No worries at all. I wasn’t bothered by it; I was just thinking.”
He continues onward as I frown against his back. Are he and Maxine already thinking babies? They better not be. Our grandparents always told us ‘thirty or bust’. They strongly believe in enjoying your twenties and saving that decade just for you. Maxine would never … would she?
“Do you use protection with my sister?” I blurt, and Maxx stumbles a bit over an exposed root, cursing as he catches himself on the trunk of a tree and turns to stare at me over his own shoulder.
“Really?” he asks, but not like he’s pissed off about it. More like he’s just surprised I had the audacity to say that aloud. I get that a lot, actually. Maxx snorts and drops his chin with a bit of a chuckle.
“I’m not sure Maxine would appreciate you telling me this …”
I gasp and almost lose my grip on his shoulders.
“You aren’t, are you?” I choke out, gagging on the idea of Maxx and my sister and … eww. Gross. Just … no. No way. “She isn’t pregnant, is she?”
“Pregnant?” Maxx echoes, and then he laughs again. “God, no. She couldn’t possibly be pregnant … unless you know something I don’t? We aren’t having sex, Kota.”
Oh.
Ooooooh.
Oh.
“You aren’t?” I repeat as Maxx starts walking again, this time at a slower pace. That, I did not expect. Maxine had sex with her first boyfriend when they were both sixteen, and then with her second boyfriend when she was eighteen. I’m surprised.
“I’m sort of … a save it u
ntil engagement guy?” he queries, almost like he’s asking himself a question. “Or at least I was going to try. Not for religious reasons or anything but just because it seemed like a good idea to wait.”
“You’re a virgin? Me, too.” The words pop out of my mouth before I can stop them, and I groan. “Okay, I’m being cringey as fuck. I’ll stop talking now.” He laughs at me yet again, but it doesn’t last long. Then he’s stopping on the path, his shoulders going tense as he surveys the switchbacks in front of us. “Did I say too much? The virgin thing was a lot …”
“That guy is keeping pace with us again,” he says, his voice as cold as iron. It’s in that moment that I can see past the brimming confidence and cocky smile. Maxx is completely serious and it’s freaking me out.
“The walking stick-hat guy?” I ask, because I’m most definitely not Tess Vanguard, and I can’t come up with any better explanation for the hiker that just passed by us. “He’s waiting for us?”
Maxx turns his face back toward me.
“Can I put you down for just a second?” he asks me, and I blink back at him in surprise before nodding. Carefully, he lowers me down to sit on the edge of the path, my butt half-buried in the bushes. Crouching low, he moves forward quickly, taking the path like a housecat searching for prey. It’s quite clear in that moment that Maxx isn’t the prey in this situation; the hiker is.
He bursts around the corner of the path, and I hear footsteps heading away from us.
“Hey man, can I talk to you for a second?” he calls out, and I hear a murmured response as the other hiker hurries away. I can see him walking the curving path that bends sharply to the right, and I swear, I get goose bumps again. That dude has bad vibes.
“What happened?” I ask as Maxx comes back and bends down to help me climb up again. He doesn’t answer, righting himself on the path and then scooting to the side as a couple with a dog comes around the corner. They smile and greet us before carrying on, proving to me what I’d already figured out from a bumper stick—You’re in Oregon now. Be nice.—people here are almost aggressively polite.
Stolen Crush Page 35
