Page 31 of Just Act Natural

“They’re comfort reads.”

“Someone’s very attached to Percy Jackson.”

“Who wouldn’t love to find out they’re secretly a demi-god?”

InsertYoulooklike you’re secretly a demi-godjoke here.

“I already took your snacks. I don’t want to take away your entertainment, too.”

His eyes drop to the device and back to me. “We could read something together. Or I could read aloud.”

My heart stops. I think I just walked into every book-loving girl’s dream come true.

“Really? You wouldn’t mind?”

“It’d be fun. But we should move into my tent.” He hitches a shoulder. “To avoid the moths and mosquitos.”

“Right. I don’t want any more moth buddies to find us.” Going into a guy’s tent after knowing him for two days? I should feel weirder about doing that than I actually do. Maybe because I have no context for it. I’d never been in a tentalonebefore this trip.

“Think of it as my reading nook. Forget my bed is in there.”

There’s the context. Now that’s all I’m going to think about.

He unzips half the entrance and snaps on an LED light, then waves me inside. He slips off his boots to leave them outside, a habit I’ve seen the others in the group follow too. I do the same before I crawl into his tent. It’s a two-person tent like mine, with enough space for both of us to sit comfortably without ever touching.

Or at least I think so, until he crawls in after me. He zips the door closed and sits at the head of his sleeping bag, folding his legs criss-cross. The mini lantern swings from a hook in the center of the ceiling, knocking against his head. He straightens it and shifts as well as he can.

You never realize just how big abig guyis until you’re smooshed into a two-person tent with him. Grant is broad and muscular, and my heart might be racing for entirely different reasons if he weren’t so totally unbothered. He’s not acting like I’ve accepted an invitation into his lair. We’re just chilling in his reading nook.

“This proves how susceptible I would be to kidnapping if given the proper lure.”

He lifts an eyebrow. “That’s concerning.”

“I have a weakness.” I look around the ultra small space. “It’s neat in here. Very tidy.”

When I get ready for bed, I’ll have to shove the rest of my gear off my sleeping bag to get inside it.

“What are you in the mood for?”

“Well…” My gaze drops to his mouth. “I’m not sure…”

“Adventure, fantasy, sci-fi? One of the middle grade books you disparaged?”

My eyes snap down to his e-reader in my lap. Right. I am in the mood for reading. Obviously.

I switch it back on and scroll through the options. Something feels off, though, and it takes me a minute to realize what it is.

“How do you have all this extra stuff? The granola bars, the e-reader, the lantern. None of that was on the packing list.”

His tent is fancy compared to my bare-bones version. I had no idea glamping was an option.

“I’ve been on a few hikes like this. I know what I want to have with me.”

“Yeah, but you’re breaking the rules.” Generally, I don’t care about the rules, but I had him pegged as someone who would.

But you know how first impressions can be totally deceiving? The mischief in his slow smile makes me realize that what I took to be an innocent, vanilla Clark Kent personality is just a mask. His All-American good looks make him seem mild and unassuming—the man underneath has a strong undercurrent of rogue about him.

“You learn the rules so you know how to break them,” he explains. “If this were a more rigorous hike, I might be more cautious with the extra weight. But for a light walk?—”

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