Page 16 of Without a Trace
“You didn’t do anything horrible,” Sloane said. “Just enough to keep things interesting.”
I sighed, staring at the ceiling for a long second.
Then I dragged myself out of bed. “Fine” I muttered. “I’ll hike. But if I throw up on any of you, it’s not my fault.”
Twenty minutes later, we were outside, lacing up boots and loading backpacks with snacks and hangover water.
The guys were already by the trailhead—Kane stretching like he was prepping for the Olympics, Rhett still half-asleep eating dry cereal out of a bag, Alden leaning against a tree like he belonged in a moody magazine spread.
And Trace.
Back turned. Hood up. Still as hell.
I swallowed the lump in my throat and looked away.
Hemingway trotted ahead of me like he owned the damn forest.
The trail started wide and forgiving, but I knew better.
We were only ten minutes in when the incline kicked up and the complaining began.
“Whose dumbass idea was this?” Kane asked, panting dramatically.
“Yours,” Sloane snapped, not breaking stride.
Rhett grinned, chewing his second granola bar like this was a vacation. “Man, just wanted an excuse to show off his calves.”
“I hate all of you,” Kane said.
I laughed, tucked between Lena and Sloane, my arms already damp with sweat, hair pulled into a messy bun that wasn’t helping much.
“It’s kinda peaceful,” Lena said, breathy but cheerful. “Like, no phones, no pressure—just trees.”
“Just humidity and regret,” I mumbled.
Hemingway trotted along the edge of the path ahead of us, tongue lolling, tail wagging like he’d trained for this. The boys made fun of him, but he owned this trail like he built it.
“He’s gonna need a full spa day after this,” I said.
“He’s gonna need a hip replacement,” Rhett called out.
We pushed forward. The trees thickened, sunlight dappling through the leaves in patches, making everything feel a little magical. Or maybe that was the dehydration.
Trace was toward the front, silent, steady, head slightly bowed, lost in a place none of us could reach. Alden and Kane walked behind him, deep in some conversation I couldn’t hear.
Sloane slowed her pace a little, looking back at me. “Hey, we were thinking—me and Lena are going to head back to start setting up for dinner.”
“Oh, right,” I blinked. “That’s today.”
She smirked. “Your birthday’s always today.”
“I try to forget.”
Rhett scoffed. “We didn’t.” Kane threw an arm around my shoulder and handed me a protein bar wrapped in a bow. “Happy birthday, Chaos Queen.”
I laughed but it didn’t reach all the way. It never really did anymore.
“We’ve got something planned. Come with us?” Sloane said.
