Page 27 of The Ex-cavenger Hunt

I accept the stick with a mock salute, my back straightening as I square my shoulders. “Challenge accepted. But if I end up with charcoal on a stick, I’m blaming you,” I warn, my voice stern, but the effect is ruined by the smile that tugs at the corners of my mouth.

As we sit by the fire, the night wraps around us like a cozy blanket, the earlier banter giving way to a comfortable silence, the crackling of the flames and the distant chirping of crickets the only sounds in the stillness. We savor our simple meal under the watchful eyes of the stars, the warmth of the fire battling the cool night air, casting a golden glow on our faces. The hot dogs, surprisingly satisfying, leave us both with content smiles, our hunger sated and our hearts full.

“It’s beautiful,” I whisper, awe coloring my tone, my eyes lifted to the inky sky above, the stars twinkling like diamonds against the velvet backdrop. The vastness of the universe has a way of putting things into perspective, making our individual worries seem trivial in comparison, a reminder of the grand scheme of things.

“Beautiful, but not as captivating as the company I’m with,” Ethan says, his voice low and sincere, and there’s that playful spark in his tone that I’ve come to cherish, a warmth that spreads through my chest and makes my heart skip a beat.

Ethan’s hand is warm in mine, his presence a grounding force in the vastness of the night. “You know,” he begins, his voice low, “they say people who enjoy stargazing have a sense of wonder, a love for the mysteries of the universe.”

I turn to face him, my eyes searching his in the flickering light of the fire, a sudden intensity in the air between us, a tension that crackles like the flames. “Ethan, I . . .” I start, my voice trailing off, the words caught in my throat, my heart pounding in my chest as I try to navigate the swirling emotions that threaten to overwhelm me.

“I think,” he says, scooching closer, his voice low and husky, his eyes intense as they lock with mine, “that those people also have a capacity for deep connection. For seeing the beauty in the simple things.” His other hand finds its way to my cheek, gentle and hesitant, his fingertips barely grazing my skin, leaving a trail of goose bumps in their wake.

The world seems to hold its breath as we stand there, under the infinite expanse of the night sky, the stars bearing witness to this moment of raw vulnerability. The distance between us diminishes with each heartbeat, until the warmth of his breath mingles with mine, our lips a mere whisper apart.

Then, he kisses me.

Chapter Sixteen

Lily

Oh the kiss . . .

It’s slow, deliberate—a meeting of souls rather than just lips. There’s a sweetness to it, a tenderness that speaks volumes, wrapping us in a bubble that seems impervious to the world around us. I melt into his embrace, my hands finding their way to his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath my palm. The kiss deepens, a slow burn that ignites something within me, something fierce and beautiful and utterly terrifying in its intensity.

When we finally pull away, breathless and flushed, the night no longer feels vast and empty but charged with a magic that’s as real as the ground beneath our feet. Ethan looks at me, his eyes shining with an emotion I dare not name, but it’s there, in the way he gazes at me, as if seeing me for the first time, an understanding blossoming between us.

Our hands remain there, lightly entwined, the soft crackle of the fire punctuating our shared silence, the warmth of his touch a comforting anchor in the swirling sea of emotions. And in this moment, it feels like the dreams we’ve spoken into the night might just blend together like the melodies of a song destined to be played on repeat, a promise of something beautiful on the horizon.

I let out a small sigh, leaning back against the log that serves as our makeshift bench, my head resting on Ethan’s shoulder, the solid warmth of his body a reassuring presence beside me. The firelight dances across his face, lending him an ethereal glow that makes my heart skip a beat, the shadows accentuating the strong lines of his jaw and the gentle curve of his lips.

He stands, pulling me up with him, our bodies pressed close together, and for a second, the world tilts on its axis, everything else fading away until there’s nothing but him and me and the crackling fire. We move closer to the flames, the only audience to our impromptu dance under the moonlit sky, the soft rustling of leaves and the distant hooting of an owl providing the perfect soundtrack. His hand rests lightly on my waist, guiding me into a slow, swaying motion, our bodies moving in perfect harmony. The warmth from his touch spreads through me like wildfire, igniting a spark deep within my soul, and I can’t help but lean into him, my head resting on his chest, the steady beat of his heart a soothing lullaby.

“See, this is the part where the chapter usually ends,” I tell him, my voice catching with emotion, my eyes glistening with unshed tears. “Right before the thing becomes something more.”

“Then let’s not end the chapter just yet,” he whispers, dipping me ever so slightly, his strong arms supporting me, his touch setting my skin on fire. His eyes search mine, asking silent questions I’m not sure I’m ready to answer—but desperately want to, my heart yearning for the possibility of something real and lasting.

“Let’s not,” I agree, my heart pounding in my chest, the blood rushing in my ears as I lose myself in the depths of his gaze.

He holds me close, his hands resting on the small of my back, guiding me in a slow, swaying motion, as if there’s music playing in the background, a melody only we can hear. The world around us fades away, and it’s just him and me, our bodies moving in perfect harmony, the chemistry between us undeniable and all-consuming.

I’m painfully aware of how this is too impulsive, the kiss, the dance, the way we’re so close together, our bodies pressed against each other, the heat of his touch seeping through my clothes and into my skin. My mind races with thoughts of what this could mean, of the potential for heartbreak and disappointment, my past experiences casting a shadow of doubt over the magic of the moment.

So, as Ethan pulls me closer and the sparks fly higher, the fire crackling and popping in the background, I can only wonder: is this the beginning of something beautiful, or just another person I’ll have to forget because things don’t work out with me? They never do, my heart whispers, a painful reminder of the scars I carry, the walls I’ve built to protect myself from the inevitable hurt.

And that’s probably the truth, I think, my stomach churning with a mixture of fear and longing. He’s so different from me, his world a stark contrast to my own. Will we still be friends when this trip is over, or will we revert back to strangers, this magical moment nothing more than a distant memory, a fleeting glimpse of what could have been?

Ethan’s gaze is questioning, concerned even, his brow furrowed as he tries to read the emotions playing across my face. But I force a smile, trying to mask the turmoil inside me, my lips stretching into a grin that feels too tight, too forced. “I think I’ll sleep in the RV tonight,” I announce, my voice steadier than I feel, my hands clasped tightly in front of me to stop their trembling. “You know, just in case of bears,” I add, a weak attempt at humor that falls flat in the charged atmosphere between us.

I laugh, though it sounds hollow even to my own ears, a brittle sound that echoes in the stillness of the night. “Hey, you’re the wilderness expert here. I’m just following protocol,” I say, my shoulders lifting in a half-hearted shrug. “Besides, I think I’ve had enough adventure for one day,” I add, my voice trailing off as I avert my gaze, my heart clenching at the words that feel like a lie, a betrayal of the magic we just shared.

He nods, accepting my excuse, though we both know it’s just that—an excuse, a flimsy shield against the intensity of the moment, the undeniable pull between us. “Alright, if that’s what you want,” he says, his voice soft, tinged with a hint of disappointment that makes my stomach twist. “I’ll be just outside if you need anything. And don’t worry, I’ll keep the bears at bay,” he adds, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, a peace offering in the face of my retreat.

I nod, my throat too tight to speak, and turn toward the RV, my steps heavy, weighed down by the conflicting emotions warring within me. I retreat to the safety of the vehicle, the door closing behind me with a soft click that feels final, a barrier not just against the night but against the rush of feelings I’m not ready to confront.

As I lie down, the sounds of the night filter through the windows—the crackling of the fire, the whisper of the wind through the trees, and the distant call of a nocturnal bird. It’s peaceful, yet I feel anything but, my body restless and my mind racing, the events of the evening playing on a loop in my head.

My heart yearns to be out there, under the stars, next to Ethan, his warmth and strength a comforting presence in the vast wilderness. But my mind stubbornly insists on caution, on protecting itself from the unknown, from the vulnerability that comes with letting someone in.

---