Page 23 of Love Hazard

“That is in no way helpful.”

I paused then. “Gently down the stream.”

“Merrily,” she joined in, “merrily, merrily, life is but adream.” We finished in sync.

I cleared my throat. “The harmony could use some work.”

“I was under duress,” she snapped. “Okay, done. I’m done.Thank you. I’m sorry, this is just…like what is it, even? Never mind. I’mgrabbing the shovel.”

“And that, kids…” I still hadn’t turned around. “…is how I met your mother.”

“Pardon?”

“It was a joke."

“Hear the laughter?”

Crickets, all I heard was crickets—both figuratively andliterally. “I’m going to have to say no.”

The sound of shoveling filled the air. “Okay. I think I putenough sand on it.”

I looked over my shoulder. It took an insurmountable levelof self-control not to laugh. “So, you made a shrine?”

She pointed with the shovel in the cutest way possible atthe giant mound of sand piled higher than the Sahara after a storm. “I wantedto make sure.”

“That your pee was worshiped? Because I gottasay, nobody is going to miss this, bears included. You may as well have put asign on the sand that said: I peed here, honor me. Somewhere in there,I feel like there could be a very strategic OnlyFansaccount. I mean, if a girl can sell her farts, thinkof the possibilities.”

“Shut up.” Her smile was everything; it spread wide and freeacross her face. I took the shovel and poked it into the ground.

“I’m proud,” she said.

“That you were able to go to the bathroom?”

“No, that I dug a hole, crouched without pulling a muscle,and didn’t die of embarrassment, all within five minutes.”

I frowned. “Why be embarrassed? It’s just me.”

Her gaze flickered away from mine. Finding somethinginteresting on the sand, maybe? “I know, it’s just…peeing in a hole isn’tlike…attractive. And I think I’ve spent my whole life being that person, theone everyone thinks is too tall, too gangly, too different. It doesn’t helpthat I prefer books to people, but—”

“Stop.” I leaned down and touched her right shoulder. Myfingers met warm skin, even through her sweatshirt.“You’re beautiful, and anyone who tells you differently is both an idiot and anasshole we should feed to that rabid raccoon we met earlier, all right?”

Her head slowly lifted, and her eyes met mine.

Hazel’s parted lips were a temptation I couldn’t afford.They beckoned, made me want to brush my thumb across them, and tell her justhow stunning she really was. But the words died in my throat. I shouldn’t. Icouldn’t. I wasn’t even sorry for all the above reasons. I’d be messing withher emotions, and she’d be leaving anyway. What good was it to tell her I wasattracted to her or that she had way more value than she could ever possiblyknow? Hell, half my friends had been in love with her in high school. It wasthe girls who had been the issue, the jealousy, the constant putting her down.And it didn’t help that my popularity had been more important to me than almostanything at the time. Before Mom got sick, I’d been such a selfish prick. Ididn’t blame Hazel for hating me; I would have hated me, too.

There were so many conversations and words that should havetaken place with that girl and her parted lips and large brown eyes, but I’dburied them. Ha. Ironic since we’d just done that, and I had a shovel by myfoot.

“I, um…” She pointed behind her. “I should go get some handsanitizer and clean up the campsite before it starts raining harder.”

“Yeah.” I nodded. “Last thing we need is for you to getwet.”

She tripped over a rock and almost faceplanted into thetent.

“You okay?” I reached for her, but she was already updusting the sand from her leggings.

“Totally!”

“Why are you yelling?”

---