Page 25 of No More Love Songs

CHAPTER SEVEN

SKYLAR

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I didn’t even noticethat I took his hand until he drew attention to the way my fingers were locked into his and how willingly I was tagging along after him into the wilderness. I’m not sure how I feel about that.

After love dealt me the final blow, I promised myself I would stop trusting so easily, most of all myself. I can’t be trusted at all. If my past choices have taught me anything, it’s that I am more capable of hurting myself than anyone else.

But here I am, trusting myself to trust him. And it feels safe. And not just because Gray said he was. It feels like we made a conscious choice to build this bridge between us, and I don’t remember anyone else ever expressing any effort in establishing intentional trust with me.

“This is so cool,” I whisper, slightly out of breath from our hike through the brush to get here.

“Wait until you see the view from up there.” He tips his head back to look up into the tree.

“Up?” He can’t be serious. Sure, the tree is leaning, but it’s still a pretty precarious trek up the trunk to any sort of landing one could settle on.

He grins. “Definitely up.” He takes my empty cup from me and sets both our mugs onto the ground near the roots before he steps around me until I’m the one leading us. “Consider this your first climbing lesson.”

“But this is a tree.”

“And a boulder.”

I look over my shoulder at him and he stares straight back at me. Neither of us says anything, nor does he break away from looking me in the eyes. I swallow down my apprehensions and nod. “Up it is.”

“That a girl.” He chuckles softly, placing his hands on my waist to lead me onward. “Just do what I say and remember I’m right behind you the whole way. I got you. Even if you lose your footing or your grip slips, you won’t fall.”

My mouth starts to open to prompt him to promise, but I stop myself from vocalizing it. I don’t need him to promise. I believed him the first time he said it.

Getting up on the tree trunk is easy enough. From there, things get a little awkward until I find the right way to balance myself at the angle the tree is leaning. It’s only a few steps before the tree touches the boulder. Grew around it is more like it. Once I’m close enough to grip the limbs, I start to see why Kit was so confident I’d be able to make the climb. They’re laid out like random rungs on a ladder, making steps the whole way up until you reach the top of the boulder where the trunk of the tree splits into the four main branches, creating the perfect nook to sit and rest your back against the wood.

“Wow.” It’s all I can think once I’m sitting, my hair catching in the bark every time I turn my head and my toes kicking into leaves every time my feet get so excited, they do a little dance.

“Told you.” He nudges my shoulder with his, chuckling softly. “If you ever come out here with Ari, be warned, she doesn’t stop here. She climbs to the top.”

“The top of the tree?” I drop my head back. I can’t even see that far.

“Yeah.” He nods. “It’s freaky to watch, so don’t. You just have to trust her. She knows what she’s doing. And she’s not scared. So you can’t say anything to make her question her judgment. That fearless confidence is what keeps her safe while she’s up there.”

“You wouldn’t rather she was scared and stayed closer to the ground where it’s safer?” I’m pretty sure that’s what I would do.

“No way.” He shakes his head adamantly. “I don’t ever want her making decisions out of fear. Especially not the sort that would limit her.” He looks straight ahead though I don’t get the feeling his eyes are catching on anything specific. At least not anything physically here in the woods. “Besides, safe is just a perception. We think the ground is less dangerous, but really a tree limb could fall and crush you. A rockslide could come rushing down the side of the mountain and bury you. Hell, lightning could strike straight from the sky and take you out where you stand. We’re never safe. We’re always taking calculated risks. It’s no different whether we’re walking on the earth or climbing our way for the clouds. And I’m all for being grounded, but only so you can fly without floating away.”

“I’m not sure I know what to do with you, Kit Morgan,” I tell him, leaning into the branch at an angle so I can face him.

He stops staring out into nothing to look at me, brow furrowed. “I didn’t realize you were meant to do anything with me.”

“I just mean mentally.” I fold my hands in my lap to keep from gesturing the way I do when I get antsy. And this conversation is suddenly making me feel anxious. It’s my own fault. I’m the one who drew attention to myself and my struggle to make up my mind about him. “Like, my brain usually organizes everyone automatically. Everyone has a spot. But you, you’re like this enigma that has totally stumped my brain. You’re neither the soft, artsy musician nor the rugged, country boy. You have all these deep thoughts but most of the time you keep your sentences short and your conversations basic. You don’t believe love is enough and yet you spill more love from you in everything you do than any person I think I’ve ever met.”

“So, you’re saying your brain operates on stereotypes and I don’t happen to fit just one.”

“Ew.” I scrunch up my nose. “That was an unpleasant way of putting it.”

He laughs. “How would you put it?”

“I don’t know, but I’m not going to try and explain it now,” I mumble, turning forward again. No need to be face to face while I can feel the heat rising in my cheeks.

Then, two seconds later, I change my mind and turn toward him again. “No, I’m not saying my brain operates on stereotypes and you don’t fit,” I spout off, like this is the first time I’m answering him. “You couldn’t possibly have met as many people in as many corners of the world under as many circumstances as I have and believe that stereotypes are an adequate way to measure people.”

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