Page 75 of Muddy Messy Love

I wince. “Please watch out. I’m not known for coordination. With my luck, I’ll accidentally knock you out or break something.”

“I’ve noticed.” He chuckles. “Your nerves hijack you.”

I nod. “I know.”

“It’s cute.”

His smitten grin flips my belly, and I look at my dirt-caked Docs, smiling. “I’m glad you think so.”

We make it back to the towering gum, and Cole spots me as I climb the silvered wooden steps pinned to the trunk with nails that bleed rust. He swings the zip line towards me once I reach the platform, and I catch it, throwing my weight behind so I’m not dragged overboard. It’s higher up here than it looks from the ground. Kookaburras sing, and sun-kissed treetops glimmer and rustle in the breeze like cheerleading pom-poms. I could so live here.

“Give me a two-minute head start,” Cole says before jogging down the hill. There’s life in his steps. A sprightly energy he rarely carries, and it’s beautiful to see. He often seems so much older than twenty-seven, weighed down by responsibility andgrief. But maybe that’s why we’re drawn to each other—our dark and broken parts fit.

I consciously breathe in the fresh air again until Cole’s voice carries up the hill. At least if I die, I’ve experienced him. I count to three, then jump from the platform. My butt finds the small seat, and I angle my legs straight out like a Barbie doll. Cold wind whips through my hair and swooshes over my skin like jetted water. Branches barrel towards me with the illusion we’ll collide, but I whizz by unscathed. Squeals leave my throat, and Cole grows bigger and bigger as I race towards him. I squeeze my eyes shut, bracing for impact, then feel padded arms lock around my waist, ripping me from the seat. We tumble to the bushland floor, and I land on top of him, panting around a fit of giggles, my nose an inch from his. “That was fucking wild.”

Cole grins at me, and his joy curls through my chest, squeezing my heart. “Language, Miss Masters.” He winks, and I play-punch his arm as he pulls me down for a kiss. The helmet objects. With a growl, Cole unclips and frisbees it away, then grips the nape of my neck and smashes my mouth to his.

Our noses are cold, our mouths soft and warm. The fresh forest air sinks into our skin. We dive into each other and roll around, gathering twigs in our hair and dirt on our clothes.

Cole stares at me when we part, and our eyes silently converse—confiding in each other. Sharing secrets yet to find words. “Thank you,” I say.

He cups my cheeks. “For what?”

For sharing you. For liking me. For saving my butt and seeing past my crazy.

“For everything.”

His eyes shine as they search mine, but I climb to my feet. If I stay any longer, I might say something that ruins everything.

Three hours later, flames curl and leap into the inky black sky, and the firewood cracks as sap boils and explodes. I lie on myback next to Cole under a thick quilt that smells like him on the daybed cushions we carried down from the deck. Dirty plates and mugs lie in the dirt nearby with an empty marshmallow packet, charred toasting sticks, and our scattered boots.

The clouds have thinned, and stars blanket the night like a million tiny portals to heaven. “There’s no comparison,” I say. “There’s a gazillion more out here.” My words frost in the winter air as I stare up, absorbing every ounce of awe. “It’s humbling.”

Cole shifts, and I feel the heat of his gaze on me. “That’s my favourite look on you, you know.” I turn my face to his, and he smiles softly, running his thumb across the rise of my cheek. “That spark of wonderment in your eyes when you find beauty in something. It’s breathtaking.”

My face heats, and my insides melt, but I flash him a lopsided grin. “I would have thought it was my orgasm face.”

Cole laughs. “That’s a very close second.” He touches his mouth to mine. “And I’m lucky to be the only one who’s seen it.”

I press my knees together, and my body tingles like I’m filled with lemonade. Cole’s words spark so much hope inside me. His reverence infects my blood and forges new pathways in my brain. One’s lined with daisies and sunshine instead of oil slicks and broken glass. “How did you get to be you?” I whisper. “So strong and smart, yet kind and humble?”

Cole’s smile melts away, and he turns to the stars. “I’m not perfect, Aves. There are things I regret—events I wish I could undo. You see only the good, but everyone has a shadow, including me.”

Whoa. That turned dark fast. “So you suck at taking compliments too, I see.”

A smile tugs at his lips. Again, he looks at me. “What do you love about sculpting?”

I exhale a heavy sigh and stare at the moon, trying to formulate words. “Clay is my armour. It siphons painand creates beauty. Turns the invisible tangible. Makes the unbearable manageable.”

There’s a beat of silence. “Spoken like a true artist.” A smile laces his voice. “So what do you do with everything you make?”

I’ve been asking myself that same question. At some point, the studio will be full, and then what? “That’s the hard part. I don’t know what to do. At school, every piece was put into local shows and amateur competitions. Some even sold, and I didn’t care. In fact, I loved it. But now…” I inhale through my nose. “Now it all feels so much more personal. It’s the real world, and I’m…scared.”

“Of what?”

“Judgement. Exposure. Criticism. My work keeps me sane. For a while I stopped, and everything got worse. I can’t afford to lose it, and if I step out into the world and it cuts me down, I might.”

Crickets chirp, flames flicker, and I look up at Cole. He’s frowning, that line pressed deep between his brows. I rub it away with my thumb like I’ve longed to so many times, and he grabs my wrist and kisses the heel of my palm. “Are you any good?” he asks.

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