Page 5 of Burly and Honorable

Golden light filters through the trees, dappling the ground with shifting patterns of shadow and warmth. The clearing is bordered by towering pines, branches reaching for the sky likea cathedral. In the center, a flat, mammoth boulder stands, unchanged from the last time we were here.

I step forward, my chest tightening.

“This is it,” Jordan says quietly.

I nod, unable to speak. My gaze returns to the rock, and it’s as if Keenan is still here, teasing Jordan about being too serious. His voice echoes through my memories.

“He loved this place,” I whisper, my voice trembling. “This place is more beautiful than I remember.”

Jordan doesn’t respond, but he steps closer.

It feels like Keenan should be leaning against a tree, waiting for us.

I swallow hard and reach into my bag, pulling out the urn. My hands shake as I grip it, the smooth metal cold against my palms. It feels impossibly heavy, more than it should.

Jordan remains quiet as he stands beside me. He rubs his hand over his face like he’s trying to erase his grief. He looks down briefly but raises his head quickly and meets my eyes, nodding.

It’s time.

We climb to the top of the boulder. My knees tremble as I open the urn and slowly dip my hand into the ashes, which are unexpectedly fine and silky. I fill my hand and raise it, my heart racing as I open it and let the ashes slip through my fingers.

“Goodbye, Keenan,” I murmur, my voice breaking on the last word.

Keenan scatters a handful of ashes into the breeze. Watching them catch the sunlight and get carried away in the wind tears a piece of my heart away, and my eyes mist over.

Jordan kneels beside me, his hand brushing mine as he steadies the urn. My breath catches, and I can’t move. I glance at him, and his expression is unreadable, but something in his eyes makes the world feel less heavy. A new connection blooms between us, fierce and bold.

The ache in my chest eases as I look at him. His presence gives me strength. Why have I never noticed how comfortable I am with him? I have other close friends, but I can’t imagine sharing this trip and these moments with anyone else. Jordan is my rock.How is he still single?

The trail dips suddenly,and I step wrong, my boot catching on a root half-buried in the dirt. My ankle twists and throws me off balance.

“Ah—”

The sound is barely out before Jordan’s arm shoots out and wraps around my waist. My body sways, and he steadies me. I exhale heavily when I realize I nearly went headfirst down a hiking trail. If it weren’t for Jordan, I’d be injured.

“Careful,” he murmurs, his voice low. His breath brushes my ear, and I can’t stop the shiver dancing over my skin.

For a moment, the only thing I’m aware of is the warmth of his hand on my waist, the strength in his grip. His fingers linger, and the heat of his palm seeps through my jacket and across my skin.

“You okay?” he asks, his tone calm, holding a tenderness that nearly dissolves the wall around my emotions. The certainty that he would do anything to protect me takes my breath away.

“Yeah,” I manage, though my voice sounds more breathless than it should. I straighten quickly, brushing at my jacket as if the motion will wipe away the tension curling in my core. “Just didn’t see that root.”

Jordan doesn’t let go right away, moving his hand to my elbow to bracing me until I’m sure I won’t stumble again. When he finally releases me, it feels abrupt, like the absence of his touch has left a mark.

“Take it slow,” he says, stepping back to give me space. But his eyes linger on me, scanning like he’s ensuring I’m okay. “The sun’s going to set soon.”

I nod, forcing a smile. “Thanks.”

He nods in return but pauses a moment longer before turning and starting down the trail again.

I fall into step behind him, my heart thudding harder than the climb can account for. The surrounding forest is alive with the faint rustle of leaves in the breeze, but I can’t focus on any of it. My eyes keep drifting to Jordan—the sure way he moves, the easy strength in his shoulders, and the flex of his hands around his pack straps. Long dormant parts of my body awaken as I watch the supple flexing of his muscles.Has Jordan always been this sexy?

We reach a fallen log, its surface moss-covered and damp.

Jordan pauses. “Let’s take a break,” he says, slipping his backpack off and placing it on the ground next to the log.

I don’t argue, sinking onto the log with a grateful sigh. My legs ache, and the air feels heavier the further we go.

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