Page 45 of When We Were Reckless
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I held her hand for the entire trek to the waterfall, the head torches guiding the way. The first part of the hike was mostly flat, the dirt path surrounded by a few scrubby bushes and sparse trees. Toward the end, the descent was steep, bordered by cypress trees with Spanish moss hanging from the branches. The night air was musky, scented with earth and pine, but I could still detect Quinn’s citrusy scent. I inhaled it with every breath I took.
She smelled like summertime, like hope and possibility.
It was easy to envision Quinn on a SoCal beach, her blonde hair bleached lighter from the sun and saltwater, her apricot skin bronzed and glowing. She would probably love California as much as I did. I’d moved to Temecula because it was a motocross hotbed, and last summer, I’d been house-hunting, all set to sell my place in Texas and make Temecula my permanent home.
But in May, when I moved out of the condo I was renting, all I wanted to do was get the hell out of there and never look back.
I guided her down the steep incline, keeping her right behind me so my body would block her fall. Rocks skittered beneath our feet, and when she stumbled and slammed into me, my arm snaked around her back to steady her, a reminder that this was a stupid-ass thing to do late at night.
I’ve done a lot of stupid shit in my life. I had taken a lot of risks without giving it a second thought. I dove off cliffs in Mexico. Jumped out of an airplane without a parachute. I’d done more tricks and stunts on a dirt bike than I could count.
So this wouldn’t have been a big deal if not for the fact that I was responsible for Quinn’s safety.
The sound of rushing water grew louder, and a few minutes later, we came into the clearing at the base of the waterfall. The moon was big and bright tonight, shining on the water cascading from the sixty-foot travertine drop in front of us.
“Oh,” Quinn breathed, stopping in her tracks to take in the sight. Now that we’d reached our destination, we removed our head torches. “I love this.”
“I thought you would.” It was hard to see at night, but that didn’t dim her joy.
She dragged her gaze away from the waterfall to me. Her hair paled in the moonlight, face cast in shadows. Then she walked to the edge of the water pooling at the base of the falls. I grabbed her waist and pulled her back against me, my mouth close to her ear and my arms circling her middle. “Don’t get so close. I don’t want you to fall.”
“Too late. I already have,” she said quietly, her words barely audible over the sound of the rushing water.
Maybe I’d imagined those words. Maybe Quinn had said something completely different. But that was what I’d heard.
I moved her back a safe distance and took off my jacket, laying it on the ground for us to sit. She did the same with hers, and we sat side by side, her shoulder leaning against my upper arm, knees hugged to her chest.
“Have you ever brought anyone else here?”
I turned my head to look at her face in profile, her straight nose, and the long sweep of her dark lashes. “No.”
She smiled like that made her happy. “Have you… I haven’t seen you much.” She cleared her throat, her words hesitant like she was afraid of the answer. “What have you been up to?”
I didn’t mention the night I’d gone out with Tanner and ran into Tasha. I could have taken her home and fucked her, but I didn’t. Instead, I’d gone home and jerked off to the vision of Quinn in my head, which had pissed me off. I’d also spent countless hours watching and analyzing my races, pinpointing where I’d gone wrong and what I could have done better.
“I’ve been working out a lot. Mountain biking. And I’ve been doing a lot of dozing.”
What I hadn’t been doing was going to the track.
“Dozing?” Her brow furrowed. “Sleeping?”
I laughed and rolled out my shoulders. They were stiff from all the hours I’d spent clearing my land. My dad had been so thrilled with my plan he’d offered to send me an entire crew from his construction company, but I’d declined. I wanted to do most of the work myself. “No. Bulldozing.” I smiled at her confusion. “I’m building a playground.”
“A playground.”
“Mmhmm.”
“What kind of playground?”
“The kind with dirt jumps and ramps.”
Her whole face lit up, and her mouth formed a comical O that made me laugh again. “That’s so exciting.” She hesitated a moment before she asked, “What made you decide to do that?”
“You.” It was true. Mostly.
“Me?”
