Slowly, I unlocked the door and propped it open with my hip. “Hi.”
Rhodes’ brows pulled inward. “I’m so, so sorry, Bug.”
I opened my mouth to speak, but simply closed it again. I wasn’t expecting an apology.
“I can’t believe I treated you like that today. I can’t stop thinking about it. I have no idea what this note means, but I do know that staying away from you isn’t going to make anything in my life better. You’re the only light I have, Natalie.”
My stomach felt light and heavy at the same time. I expected Rhodes to call me tomorrow and tell me I had a new trainer. I thought he was gone. I thought I’d lost him. But we’d grown in the short time we’d known each other. Him standing on my front porch was living proof of that.
My voice cracked along with my strength. “I don’t know what the note means. I swear I don’t.”
“I know,” he said quickly, reaching out and pulling me into him. I tucked my nose into the crook of his neck, squeezing my eyes tight. “I don’t want to think about it right now.”
I pulled back. “I don’t know how not to think about it.”
Rhodes grabbed my hand in his and led me back into the house. Stretching out on the couch, he dragged me down with him and wrapped his arms around my middle. My back was flush against his chest and he softly kissed the skin on my neck.
“I want to take you somewhere tomorrow.”
I sighed, my chest tight. I was emotionally spent from the day, yet his hands on my waist and his words on my skin were all I needed to feel whole again.
“Anywhere,” I answered, sliding my hand into his. I pressed my index and middle fingers together into the center of his wrist, exhaling through the ache in my chest when I felt his steady heartbeat. “I’ll go anywhere with you.”
Rhodes woke me early the next morning. He insisted on me letting him pack my bag for whatever we were doing, and I guess a normal girl would have objected. I was pretty low maintenance, though, and was more excited about the fact that he was surprising me. I couldn’t remember a time Mason had ever thought to surprise me with anything. I didn’t mean to always compare them, but being that Mason was the only example of a relationship that I had to go off of, it happened frequently.
Rhodes outshined him in every category.
We were on the road by six, Rhodes behind the wheel of the Rover. He had one hand fixed at the top of the steering wheel and the other firmly on my thigh. It was so cliché, Willow would have hated it, but it made me smile for the first time in twenty-four hours.
We didn’t talk much as Rhodes drove. I stared out the window, sipping on the tropical smoothie I’d picked up at the gas station before we left Poxton Beach. I didn’t know where we were going, but I was relieved we were getting out of town, even if it were just for a while.
A little less than three hours later, we pulled into a small gravel parking lot in front of an open-faced, wooden gazebo type building. Rhodes jumped out and shook hands with a large bearded man who asked him a few questions before throwing me a wink and jogging off.
“Come on,” Rhodes said, opening my door. I stepped out and helped him load up the few bags and cooler he’d packed. We made our way to a small shuttle, tucking our items around our feet as the same bearded man climbed into the driver’s seat.
“Alright, y’all. You ready to spend some time on Edisto River?”
I smiled. “We’re canoeing?”
“We are.”
“All day?”
This time, Rhodes smirked. “Something like that.”
I lifted a brow in question, but he just kissed my hand still locked in his.
The drive was short, but our driver, Clint, chatted animatedly about the river the entire time. It was one of the longest free-flowing blackwater rivers in North America and ran all the way down to its end in Edisto Beach, where it met the Atlantic. We were still in the same state, just a few hours from Poxton Beach, but it was as if we were in an entirely different country. It was so quiet, nothing but wildlife and the gentle rustling of the wind through the leaves.
Clint helped us unload the canoe when we arrived at the drop spot, lowering it steadily into the water. Rhodes secured our bags inside the canoe before attaching the small cooler to the back. It floated easily, and I marveled at bad boy Rhodes showing off his boy scout skills.
“Ready?” he asked, still steadying the canoe with his hands. He was glancing up at me through his slightly-longer-than-usual hair with a boyish grin.
I nodded, his excitement infectious. Rhodes and Clint both helped me inside the canoe, which really wasn’t necessary, but I accepted the extra help. Lord knows I was far from graceful.
“We’ll see you two tomorrow. Have fun!” Clint shook hands with Rhodes quickly before jogging back to the shuttle.
“Tomorrow?”
Rhodes grinned, climbing in to sit on the small bench behind mine in the canoe. We each had an oar, and Rhodes used his to kick us off the riverbank. “Relax. We’re not paddling all that time.”
“Then where are we going?”
“You’ll see.”
The Edisto River was smooth and easy to maneuver, its dark waters reflecting the bright blue sky and tall green trees surrounding it. We passed a few other canoes and kayaks and the occasional paddle board along the way, but for the most part, we had the river to ourselves. Each mile housed something new to see, from turtles to tree swings, and Rhodes surprised me by pulling my camera from one of the bags he packed so I could capture the moments. I tried focusing on what he’d said before, about not striving for so much control in my shots. I played with settings, filters, zoom and lighting, not letting my need to find the perfect shot drive my direction.
It was freeing.
We stopped at a shallow section for lunch, jumping out of the canoe and into the cool water after we ate. Rhodes had packed simple sandwiches for lunch, but I could see other ingredients in the cooler that were more suited to be cooked, which only made my curiosity grow.
Once we were back in the canoe, Rhodes took over paddling completely, letting me face him and relax a little. He was absolutely gorgeous to watch. The muscles in his chest and arms flexed with each row, and he had a permanent smile glued to his face. His fierce green eyes were set ablaze among the backdrop of the dark water and cypress trees.
“Can I ask you something?”
“Uh oh,” Rhodes answered, smirking.
“Why don’t you let anyone call you by your first name?”
He sighed, dropping the oars back into the water before leaning back and smoothly propelling us forward. For a long moment, he was quiet, and I almost told him he didn’t have to tell me, though I desperately wanted to know. But after searching for the right words, he finally spoke.
“Do you know what the name William means?”
I shook my head.
“Resolute protector.” Rhodes squinted against the sun fighting its way through the trees. “I believed in it when I was younger. One of my early foster moms, the only one I can recall who wasn’t a drugged out loser, told me it meant I was born to protect those around me, so that’s what I did. I stood up for those who couldn’t defend themselves, whether that was a kid in school being bullied or one of my foster moms being smacked down by their piece of shit husbands.” I flinched at that image, wondering how much Rhodes had to see in his formative years. I didn’t have to wonder anymore where the scars on his abdomen came from.
“That’s part of why I was seen as such a delinquent when I was in high school. Yeah, I got in a lot of fights and got caught in a lot of bad situations, but I was always in those situations because I was helping someone else. It was the one thing I clung on to. I wanted to be worth something to someone. I protected kids, teachers, friends, strangers, foster siblings, pets.” He swallowed, his Adam ’s apple bobbing beneath his stubble-covered neck. “And above all else, I protected Lana.”
He didn’t have to say another word for me to understand why he didn�
��t let anyone call him William. He was her protector, but he wasn’t able to save her. He didn’t feel like he deserved the title anymore.
“I don’t know, after she disappeared, I just felt this ultimate failure seep into my bones. It was like the only claim to worth I had was stolen. Or rather, I had let it go. There were signs leading up to her disappearance. Bruises, scratches. And she was always sad. Tired.” He shook his head. “I asked a few times, but she said she was fine. I knew in my gut it was something more. A stalker, a crazy boyfriend — something. But she always tried to shelter me. And I let her. I didn’t do shit about it. I just let it all go.” His jaw was tense as he rowed. “So, I gave up protecting. I gave up trying to find value in myself. I gave up pretty much everything.”
I chewed on his words, aching to reach out to him, but I wasn’t sure if he’d let me hold him or not. It killed me to know he somehow felt responsible for Lana. It wasn’t the kind of guilt that was easy to let go of.
“Can I ask you something else?”
Rhodes seemed to be still stuck in his own thoughts, but he nodded.
“Yesterday, you were the same Rhodes I met at the beginning of the summer. You pushed me away.” He frowned, but didn’t argue. “But then you showed up at my door last night. And now we’re here. It seemed like you were so sure I’d betrayed you.” Tucking my hands between the wood and the backs of my thighs, I glanced at him through my lashes. “What made you change your mind?”
He stopped rowing, letting the soft current of the river take over. His eyes were fixed on mine. “I just realized that I’ve lived a life without love, without caring for someone else or letting them care for me. And I don’t want that to be the only kind of life I have.” He shrugged. “I made up my mind that night you gave yourself to me that I was never going to walk away from you or the possibility to feel like I have a purpose again. I’m not letting one note change that.”
My heart leapt at the word love leaving his lips. He wasn’t saying that he loved me, but he wasn’t saying he couldn’t. To me, that was just as exhilarating.
We stopped again when we found a large rope swing, taking turns riding it out above the water before dropping in with a splash. I was in another two-piece bathing suit, one I’d purchased myself, and Rhodes took a photo of me in it mid-swing. He motioned me over once I resurfaced to show it to me and I smiled. I looked so free, so happy, so confident.
While Rhodes looked over the map he’d taken from Clint, I pulled on my white cover up and rested on a large log extended out over the water near the swing. I laid on my back, watching the clouds float the opposite way of the current, the sun glittering behind them. There was a soft, cool breeze over the water and it flowed through my hair as I rolled over onto my stomach.
I was face-to-face with my reflection in the dark river as I hung off the log, one arm hanging down toward the water. I studied the girl looking back at me — her long, dark blonde hair, slightly lighter at the ends from the summer sun. Her eyes were wide, cheeks high, smile genuine. She was far from the broken girl I’d seen in the mirror the first night Rhodes touched me.
That summer changed me — not just on the outside, but the inside, too. I didn’t look at life as a burden or a puzzle I didn’t fit into anymore. Instead, it was a beautiful challenge, one I didn’t have to face alone. The girl gazing up at me from the river might have been thirty pounds lighter than the girl who entered that summer, but she was also thirty times stronger. She was smarter, more experienced — and she had no limits.
Extending my pointer finger, the tip just barely touched the surface of the water, sparking a ripple that distorted my face first before taking the rest of my body with it. It was then that I realized my life was my own. I could do anything, be anyone, if I only had the courage.
When Rhodes called my name, motioning back to the canoe, boyish grin locked on his face, I nodded and leaned up on the log. But before I jumped into the water, I glanced back down at River Natalie one more time, appreciating her for how far she’d come and knowing that there was still so much more to come for her, too.
I’d been so focused on losing weight, on getting to a certain point where I thought I’d find happiness. It turned out that joy wasn’t made by the destination, but rather discovered in the journey.
I looked forward to the next mile in mine.
About an hour later, we came upon a large treehouse extending about twenty feet above the water. There was a fire pit just below it and a hammock hanging between two trees sticking up through the water of the river.
“Wow,” I breathed. “How neat is this?”
“Glad you like our home for the evening.”
I spun around. “Are you serious?”
Rhodes smiled, steering the canoe toward the house. Once we reached the bank, he hopped out and steadied it as I did the same before pulling it up onto shore. We each grabbed a bag and Rhodes lifted the cooler.
“We’re staying here?”
“We are. It’s all ours tonight.”
I couldn’t help the giddy feeling coming over me. I was never much of a camping kind of girl, but I always wanted a treehouse. Dale never built me one, he said it would be an eyesore on our perfect yard.
This house was the farthest thing from an eyesore.
We climbed up the wooden steps to the entrance, revealing an outdoor dining area complete with a rocking chair and tiki torches. Just inside was a small but clean and cozy futon, a make-shift kitchen with gas grill and cooking utensils and plenty of oil candles. It was just like any treehouse I’d ever dreamed of, except adult-size. All I needed was a No Boys Allowed sign. Sneaking a peek at the sliver of skin between the hem of Rhodes’ shirt and his swim trunks as he reached up to tuck our cooler onto a shelf in the kitchen, I swallowed.
Never mind about that sign.
“Are you hungry yet?”
“Not really. Can we explore?”
Rhodes smiled. “Absolutely.”
We spent the rest of the afternoon hiking, swinging off rope swings into the river, and lounging in the hammock out front. We talked about a little of everything, including how Rhodes had been looking into culinary schools. It was as if we were finding our confidence together — me in my body, Rhodes in his ability to be better than his past. It’s amazing how just having someone believe in you can suddenly make something that seemed so impossible to achieve feel like it’s only a matter of when, not if.
After dinner, Rhodes and I sat around the fire pit listening to the nature all around us. We made s’mores, which shocked me since I’d never seen Rhodes eat anything outside of his strict meal plan, and I played around with my camera, catching different shots of Rhodes through the flames of the fire.
“Why do you love photography?”
I smiled, snapping another photo of him. The orange glow from the fire played against the shadows of the night on his face. “I told you once before. You don’t remember?”
“You told me you’re nerdy about it and it’s your passion. But you never told me why.”
I frowned, realizing I didn’t really know the answer. “I guess I just love the power of being able to temporarily freeze a moment in time, even if it’s not as good as the real thing. I like being able to pick up a photo, close my eyes, and feel that place and time again.” I flipped through a few settings on my camera and took another shot. “We have thousands of memories and our brain is like a never-ending filing cabinet. But sometimes you forget about something until someone reminds you to pull that file. That’s what photos do for me. They take me back.”
“And what about the future?”
I dropped my camera into my lap, adjusting my position on the small tree stump. “I don’t know. I’ve always wanted to shoot photos for the future, photos that would drive me and make others who weren’t in my memories feel something powerful. But, I guess, to be honest, I’m just kind of lacking inspiration.”
It hurt to admit, because I’d always thought photography was the one thing
in my life I had complete control over, but the truth was that I knew I had so much work to do to really hone my skills. It was part of the reason I wanted to go to an art school, not a state university.
Rhodes seemed lost in thought across the fire. After a moment, he slowly rose and pulled me to my feet, too. Sliding his hands into my hair, he pressed his lips to mine, claiming my mouth with his own. It was a possessive kiss. It was needy, yet patient and sure. He broke it long enough to whisper against my lips.
“So let me inspire you.”
Suddenly, the fire’s heat seemed so futile.
In one fluid movement, Rhodes lifted me and I wrapped my legs around his waist, locking my ankles. His mouth never left mine as he climbed the stairs. He laid me down softly onto the futon and stood, grabbing his shirt at the back of his neck and pulling it up and over his head. In the candlelight, the ridges of his abdomen were highlighted even more than usual. I bit my lip in anticipation of having him pressed against me.
Moving to the edge of the futon, I slid my hands over his muscles, and each one tensed with the touch. I pressed my lips to his skin, kissing him over and over. His hands found my hair, and the urge to take control hit me.
“I want to try something,” I whispered, untying his board shorts. I tugged them down over his hips and they fell to the floor. Rhodes was so hard, so ready. He kicked the shorts to the side and stared down at me as I took him in my hand. Groaning, he flexed into my grasp as I moved my hand up and down his length in a slow and steady rhythm. Hesitantly, I bent forward and just barely touched his tip with my lips.
Rhodes growled, grabbing my chin between his forefinger and thumb and tilting my face to meet his. “Natalie,” he breathed. I wasn’t sure if it was a warning or a plea.
“I want to try,” I repeated, swallowing. “But I need you to show me how.” I’d never gone down on Mason, mostly because I’d never had any desire to see him come apart at my touch. With Rhodes, it was all I craved. I wanted to make him feel the way he made me feel — powerful, wanted, sexy.
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