Page 26 of The Rival (Looking to Score 2)
The trail is within walking distance of the cabin, so by the time we reach the first marker, I’m already working up a sweat. The air is thick and humid, like it might rain.
“Did you happen to check the weather before we left?” I ask.
“No.” Alex frowns, looking up at the blue sky. He pulls out his phone and huffs at what he finds. “Damn. Rain, but not for two hours. Want to risk it?”
“I have faith in us.”
It doesn’t start to drizzle until we’re already halfway back. Alex is just finishing a story about a family camping trip gone awry when the first droplet splashes against my cheek.
“—poison ivy like you’ve never seen before. I’m telling you, Nelle just laughed at my misery. And—oh shit, here it comes.” Alex reaches out to show me a single drop resting between the manly veins on the back of his hand.
Instinctively, I reach out to wipe it away, and an electric shock zips through my fingers and ignites a warmth between my thighs. When I meet Alex’s eyes, he smirks and arches a thick eyebrow.
“Ready to get wet?”
In more ways than one, I almost say as a blush takes over my cheeks, but I can’t let that innuendo slide. So I tell him, “It’s always a good time to get wet.”
The look on his face is worth every word of my reply to him.
Unfortunately, the drizzle turns into a solid rain in minutes. Soon, we’re laughing as it begins to pour, the raindrops turning our clothes a shade darker.
“How far are we from the cabin?” I ask, squinting through the downpour.
“About twenty minutes, give or take.”
“I’m not much of a runner, so if you want to go ahead, I can meet you back there.”
Alex scoffs. “I’m not leaving you.”
My heart does a happy little pirouette in my chest, and I hide my smile beneath the bill of my cap.
We walk until we’re soaked to the bone by the summer rain. The sun peeks out from behind the clouds, casting fragmented rainbows across the sky, but the rain’s just getting started, based on the darkening clouds moving our way.
When we make it back to the cabin, we linger on the porch to kick off our shoes and wring out our clothes—at least, whatever we can manage without taking them off completely. When Alex lifts his shirt to shake some of the rain from it, my gaze snags on his oblique muscles that dip into the low waistband of his shorts. I’m mesmerized.
“How about we change, and then I’ll get started on lunch,” Alex says with a friendly grin, his tone teasing.
Crap. He definitely caught me staring.
“Cool,” I choke out, leading the way indoors.
Once I’ve peeled off my wet clothes and towel-dried my hair, I find myself wishing I’d packed more than shorts and yoga pants. Maybe a sundress would have been nice. But then again, I’m not here to impress anyone, and Alex wasn’t intending to stay all summer.
Not that I want to impress him or anything.
I settle on some cozy, and most importantly, dry clothes—a gray knit sweater, drawstring shorts, and matching chunky socks.
By the time I wander into the kitchen, Alex is already changed, busy at the island assembling two sandwiches.
“What’s next on the docket?” he asks, handing me a plate holding a turkey and cheddar sandwich.
Be still my heart. The man even put lettuce and tomato on it.
“I don’t know,” I say between perfectly delicious bites. “Nothing outdoors, I suppose.”
The rain is coming down harder now, and the sky has turned an ominous shade of gray.
“That makes sense,” Alex says. “But it’s still your birthday. I’m game for whatever.”
Since he’s facing away from me, I let myself stare at the curve of his broad, muscular shoulders, and appreciate the messiness of his still-damp hair.
“I’ll try to think of something,” I say.
Alex squeezes my shoulder as he passes me to clean up the kitchen.
When I finish my last bite, the kitchen is sparkling clean again, and Alex has taken his phone and made himself scarce.
I can hear him speaking to someone in a hushed tone, and curiosity spirals through me. Could it be a woman? If so, he hasn’t mentioned anyone special. Curious, I wander into the living room a few minutes later and find he’s stacked board games and puzzles on the coffee table.
“This is the best I could come up with,” he says, appearing behind me. “Sorry about the rain.”
I wave him off. “It’s not your fault. And I don’t mind the rain.”
Alex shoves one hand in his pocket. “Still, it probably makes for a lame birthday.”
I inspect an old-fashioned game of Clue and shake my head. “When I accepted this gig, I figured I’d be spending my birthday by myself. Believe me when I tell you that this is better than being alone.”
