Page 73 of Something Spontaneous

He nods.

“Good. Do you still hike?”

He reaches down and cups my chin in his other hand, tilting my face up until our eyes meet. His lips curl into a mischievous grin.

“If that’s a question about my leg, I’m pretty sure I’ve been fucking you senseless for days, and you haven’t noticed my performance lacking. Speaking of that, I believe we’re somewhere around twelve.”

My jaw drops, and my core thrums. “Noted. You can still count, and you still hike.”

CHAPTER 30

SLY

You Still Come Up Here

The ride up to the Silver Peak overlook in the passenger seat immediately took me back to the countless times we came up here before. If the weather was good and we had a full day, we’d hike up from town and hang out by the small lake to enjoy the views of Silver Peak in the distance. If we were short on time, we’d borrow my dad’s truck and do the short perimeter hike around the lake—or skip hiking altogether and lay in the truck bed with a blanket, some sodas and snacks.

Today, I was hoping for a combination of the two because when it comes to spending time with Josie, there’s never enough. I know I’m on borrowed time with her, and I can’t make my mind up on what sounds best. Sneaking around for sex was good—no, otherworldly good. Now that we’re having more meaningful conversations and I’m no longer carrying the secret of my accident around, there’s so much more I want to do with her.

I want to learn everything about the life she’s lived since she left. I want to know what she wants to do for the next decade and beyond, even if I know I’m not a part of that plan. Knowing her, she wants to continue to thrive in her spontaneity. That’s what I’ve gathered over the last half hour hiking alongside her and behind her, when I’ve been able to focus, at least.

She’s wearing that same skimpy combination of a sports bra and spandex gym shorts, just like she was dressed for her hike with the girls the other day. Like that day, my mouth is dry despite the absurd amount of water I’ve been drinking from my hydration backpack.

“Do you still come up here much?” Her question snaps me out of my trance.

“Oh, um.” I hum to myself, trying to think of how to correctly answer that.

Do I tell her that I come up here sometimes when I can’t sleep because I’m remembering the way her tears trickled down through her freckles as I told her we weren’t really in love? Or do I tell her that hiking around the lake is the only way I can erase the phantom pains I get from my missing limb? Because the only pain worse than that is reopening the hole in my heart that I carved by driving her away.

“Yeah, I come up here every now and then, I guess.”

Over her shoulder, she gives me a skeptical look before continuing to hike along the trail back to the overlook, where we started. “I can tell when you’re lying. You want to try answering that again?”

I mutter under my breath because apparently, she can still see right through me. “Yes, I come up and hike a decent amount whenever I need to clear my head. Happy?”

She reaches the log that serves as a makeshift bench at the overlook and turns back to me. “Yes. I’m always happy when I get to pry the truth out of you.”

I stop right in front of her, and she looks up at me with a pleased grin. She reaches up and taps me right on my temple. “Finding out what’s going on in this head was always one of my favorite pastimes.”

“If you’re such an expert, what’s going on in there right now?” I say, grabbing her wrist and holding her palm to my cheek.

Her head tilts, and she lets out a curious hum. Her fingers strum over the side of my head, right behind my ear.

“I’m sure this head of yours is spiraling over what to talk about because we’re running out of time before I leave next week.” She steps into me until the erection that I’ve been trying to ignore is pressed against her hip. “And clearly, this head has been thinking about my ass for the entire hike, just like you used to.”

I exhale a ragged breath as she leans against my aching cock, increasing the pressure.

She waggles her brows. “I’ll take that as confirmation that I’m right.”

“You are right. Some things never change.” I drop a hand to her lower back, pulling her into me. Her lips part as I bring my mouth to hers. She’s startled for a moment before she kisses me back, moaning into my mouth. Our tongues desperately fight to see who wants each other more. I nip at her bottom lip, and she digs her nails into my pecs. She rocks her core on my thigh, and I cup one of her full breasts and drag my thumb over her nipple, swallowing the gasp she lets out like it’s the greatest thing I’ve tasted.

And like that night in the back of The Hatch, she presses herself against me. My dick throbs, and now that I’m finally wearing shorts instead of jeans or sweats, I can feel how thin her spandex shorts are with her core against my bare skin.

“Fuck,” I grunt out, breaking the kiss only to remind her that we’re both into this. “I might be hard, but you’re still getting wet for me, just like you used to.”

Her hands roam my chest under my T-shirt, and I hook a hand under one of her knees, bringing her tighter against me. Through her sports bra, I feel her piercings, and I ache to get more of my girl, even if I’ve done nothing to deserve her.

Just like the rest of the other stolen moments we’ve had over the last week, this feels so effortless and natural. It’s not like we’re making up for lost time, but it’s as if those missing years never existed in the first place. Our bodies—our souls—continue to seamlessly fall into a perfect rhythm without missing a beat.