Page 47 of Cain
I like it.
I hate that I like it.
But I like it.
A lot.
“Date?”
He nods.
I lick my lips.
“Just simple. No drama.”
I want to say no. There’s no profit in seeing him again. He’s a reminder of things lost.
“Okay.”
What the fuck, Faith?
“Really?”
I roll my eyes.
He pulls me into a hug and smacks his mouth against mine. It’s a playful kiss.
“Tomorrow at eleven.”
“In the morning?” I ask as he’s leaving Nectar.
“Yeah.”
“I have a shift.”
“Already talked to Ricky. He’s giving you time off.” He blows me a kiss and waves before disappearing.
I press my palms against the counter, exhaling slowly.
What are you doing, Faith?
I don’t know.
Yes, you do. You’re playing with fire.
20
SWEET THING
CAIN
She doesn’t ask where we’re going. She just comes along.
I pull off the gravel road and park at a scenic vista point that most tourists pass by. From there, we cut across a narrow, pine-lined trail that winds toward the ridge above the falls. The path is soft with needles and damp earth, and sunlight filters through the canopy in golden stripes, casting a cathedral glow over everything.
We move past small rivers swollen with snowmelt, their water rushing over mossy rocks. The air smells like sap and wet stone.
It’s mid-spring, and though the air is still crisp, the cold no longer bites. Not when the sun shines.
