Page 32 of Entwined Hearts

“Sorry,” he says, watching me.

“It’s okay,” I say as he wraps tape around the poultice.

“Try to keep it on for a little while,” he says, repeating the first aid treatment with the wound on my thumb.

I look up. “Thank you.”

His eyes brighten with his smile. I have the urge to hug him, but in my hesitation, I lose the moment. We join the rest of the group around the campfire where the usual banter and jokes volley back and forth like a tennis ball at the French Open. Nobody brings up meeting Jake at the hot springs. I sip from a fresh beer with the unbandaged hand, wondering how many I’ve had. My head says too many. I tell myself I’m going to quit after this one.

I give up on trying to be social, savoring the warmth from the fire and camaraderie of my friends. Jo flashes me looks now and then. She hugs me before she and Kabir head off to bed.

“Sorry, girl,” she says, her eyes full of sympathy.

I think about migrating to my tent for some peace, but I know I won’t sleep. Colby’s eyes connect with mine across the fire, ever watchful. He tilts his head to the road. I nod, relieved to be offered an escape. I slip from the circle, leave my half-empty beer can on the table, then follow the path to the road. Colby joins me.

“Talk to me, Goose,” he says in a voice that sounds remarkably like Maverick fromTop Gun.

I try to laugh, but it comes out like a groan.

“Sorry,” Colby says. “I have a habit of doing that.”

“Doing what?”

“Trying to be funny when I shouldn’t.”

“You’re just trying to help.” I hug myself and gaze down the dark dirt road. “Can we walk?”

“Sure,” he says. We stop at his truck so he can grab a headlamp and a jacket. I zip mine up, and we set off.

“What are we climbing tomorrow?” I ask.

“What do you feel like climbing?”

“Something hard.”

“Hmm,” he says as our footsteps scuff the dry, pebbly dirt. “Have you climbedToo Tall to Fall?”

“No,” I say, breathing in the smell of the dry earth and cold juniper. I’m not much of a boulder climber—boulders rarely have enough cracks—so I haven’t spent much time in the Buttermilks. The arms of my jacket swish against my sides as we move down the road. We pass another campsite, this one occupied by two couples. A dog on a rope leash woofs once at our presence, then settles back into the dirt.

“That’s a fun one. We could also go toBad Eggif your fingers can take it.”

“I’ll be fine,” I say, remembering the way he bandaged my hand earlier. At some point, I unraveled the bandage he made, though I can’t remember doing it. I’m usually the one taking care of others, so having him do that for me felt…nice, but also…awkward.

“I get the feeling nothing stops you,” Colby says.

I feel my molars tap together as I clench them.Apparently seeing Jake with someone else does, I think.

“He’s not worth it, Anya,” Colby says as if he can read my mind.

I stop walking, exhaling a hard breath. “Was Jake seeing her before?” I ask, unable to stop myself, even though I hate the way my voice sounds. “Was his whole ‘I need some space’ his way of saying he wanted to fuck someone else?”

“I don’t know,” Colby says. If he’s surprised at my sudden shift in language, he doesn’t show it. For that, I’m thankful because I feel like I could throw the f-bomb all fucking night and still have more to throw.

“Sorry,” I say, hugging myself. “I’m just…ugh,” I groan. “Why today? Why there?”

“Why are you beating yourself up, Anya?” Colby says, peering into my eyes. “He’s a jerk. If you were on the fence about what kind of person he is before, I hope you see it now.”

“But whyher?” I ask, clasping myself tightly as if I could squeeze the hurt out of me like a tube of toothpaste.

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