Page 44 of My Grumpy Billionaire Soccer Star

“I am coming with you.”

Ridiculous.

“No.”

“What? You surely aren’t thinking of leaving me here all alone.”

“You seemed to have made that decision yourself. Now, you wouldn’t want to get hunted down by a grizzly or a brown bear or even a dinosaur, would you?”

She pauses and comes closer. “There’s no way I am letting you leave me here alone. We’ll fight the bears together if we happen to encounter them.”

I don’t stifle the laughter that follows.

Ridiculous.

This is a person I had to carry, someone still visibly fragile from almost drowning, saying this. From the look in her eyes, she seems to believe what she just said.

“What’s funny?”

“Nothing. It’s just that you haven’t gotten your full strength back. You stay here.”

“No.”

“It’s an order, Rachel,” I scowl. I am certainly not strong enough to carry an unconscious woman in my arms for the second time.

“Oh?” Her brows rise. “It’s an order, huh? And do what exactly? Get you your dinner? Organize your schedules? Call a client to postpone your meeting with them? Well, the last time I checked, we aren’t in Vaughn Charity Center, New York FC headquarters, or Australia. We are in the middle of God-knows-where, so save that for when we get back, if we ever do get back.”

Her eyes flash as she says this, and there’s no mistaking the defiant gleam in them. Wherever she gets this audacity, she should be sure to return it once we’re back in New York. For now, there are more pressing issues to worry about, and I am not about to waste what little energy I have left arguing.

I turn my back to her and shrug. “You can come if you want to,” I say and resume my walk. Without hesitation, she trails behind, trying to catch up to my quick steps.

I part a bunch of leaves and step into the opening, and the sight that presents itself before me is as beautiful as it is terrifying.

Above us, tall canopies shelter the ground below, with beams of sunlight penetrating it in various spots, casting a mosaic pattern of colorful rays on the smaller plants on the ground.

The chirping of what sounds like lorikeets and flowerpeckers graces my ears—sounds I hadn’t heard before.

“This is beautiful,” Rachel, who’s now standing beside me, says, a smile spreading on her face. She closes her eyes, draws a deep breath, and adds, “Hmm, wildflowers.”

Beautiful, yes. Terrifying, also yes. Because this forest stretches as far as the ocean seems to stretch—no end in sight.

I don’t respond to her obvious soliloquy. Instead, I follow a steady path and make my way deeper into the forest, hoping to come across any sign of civilization. Perhaps there is a bay areaon the other side of the forest that connects the sea to the land. If that’s the case, then it’s possible to find someone here.

I hope that’s the case.

But then it’s too late for that already, I think. I will do more exploration tomorrow. If I don’t find any sign of civilization in my intended short walk, we are going back. Ever since Rachel mentioned something about bears, a scenario has occasionally played in my mind.

As we venture deeper, we hear more birds and begin seeing small rodents scurrying around. Two plum trees heavy with fruits and a peach tree come into full view, making us pause.

“Well, I guess our little walk did yield some ‘fruits,’ after all,” Rachel comments, staring hungrily at the trees.

Funny.

She laughs at her joke and then laughs some more, which causes a reluctant smile to spread over my face. I’m not smiling at her joke; I’m smiling at her ability to see humor in desperate situations like the one we have found ourselves in. I guess she won’t prove too difficult to live with while we’re out here. Ihopeshe won’t prove too difficult to live with while we’re out here.

“I will climb the peach tree and get some for dinner. You pick them up while I throw them down at you.”

She nods. “Okay.”

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