Page 15 of Just Act Natural

FIVE

LILA

So much forGrant and I stumbling through this hike together. Turns out, the man doesn’t need any help. Makes sense. He hasn’t been bumbling through the day in the same way I have. I should have known this wasn’t his first rodeo when he showed up with his own bear spray.

Hearing everything he’s done, I feel like even more of a dummy. I kind of liked the idea of having a partner in ineptitude-crime for this hike. Now, it’s just me, trying to keep up with everyone else.

Really, it’s a good thing. I don’t need distractions right now. Getting hearts in my eyes over Grant would make it difficult to focus on the awesomeness of nature. Which absolutely requires my undivided attention.

Because it’s so compelling. Apparently.

I snap several pictures at the view point and make a few voice notes about where we are and what we’re looking at to help me keep track for later. When I get back home, all of these trees and rocks will look the same, and I don’t want to mix anything up for my presentation. Next month, I’ll make a caseto the town council to expand my responsibilities and go full-time, so I need to get all the details right.

After a few minutes looking at the views, we spread out to take advantage of our last blessed moments with cell service. I move closer to the nearest tree but manage to stop before my face lands in a giant spider web, complete with fat spider. My skin crawls as though phantom insects are doing the cha-cha on me.

So peaceful out here.

Steadfastly ignoring thoughts of giant arachnids, I make my call.

“Proof of life,” I say when my sister answers.

Hope’s laughter is surprisingly clear for the teeny tiny bar my phone displays. “Are you even out of town? You’ve only been gone a few hours.”

“Feels like weeks.”

“Where is your chipper ‘what could possibly go wrong?’ attitude?”

Usually, I would be the first to try something new. But those things are typically more along the lines of new fusion restaurants or a retro denim-on-denim look. Iwantto see this trip as an adventure full of opportunities for fun, but it’s not giving me butterflies yet.

Well. It is. But not in any realistic or acceptable way. I need to squash out all the Grant-butterflies.

“That was the old Lila. The new Lila is bitter and jaded.”

“Unlikely.”

“Likely. The new Lila has already been covered in ants.”

“What?” Her shock is deeply satisfying. When I was well and truly swarming with bugs, the rest of my group took it a little too calmly. Only Grant stepped up to rescue me.

Which I am totally not thinking about.

“I’m communing with nature.” Lower, I whisper. “Please send help.”

“Aww. You’re going to have a great time.”

“You and I have had very different experiences in the woods.”

“Maybe. I mean, all of mine have been with Griffin, so…”

Neither of us spent much time outdoors growing up. I don’t even remember making mud pies as a kid. Hope changed all that when her boyfriend—her fiancé as of a week ago—came along. Now, she’s all about camping, hiking, and going feral in the great outdoors. She’s even gone fishing with him a few times, and I can’t decide if I’m more impressed or disgusted.

I barely even like to eat fish. I don’t want to actually touch them.

I might worry my little sister was trying to change herself to suit a man if it weren’t painfully obvious she truly looks forward to their adventures. The weirdo. Plus, he treats her like royalty and dotes on her as if the only thing he wants in the world is to make her happy.

Weirdos in love. Honestly, I’m here for it.

“I can see how a rugged mountain man might make the whole thing more appealing.” My gaze darts to Grant because I am a ridiculous little bean. I can’t help it—he fits the part. Luckily, he’s on a call, too, and unaware of my Pavlovian response to the words.

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