His large tongue snaked out toward her face, and she turned away with a laugh. She caught Everett watching her intensely, and a lump of unease rose in her throat at his unreadable expression.
“What?”
“I want to make you laugh like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like you’re free.”
Everett stood up then and reached out for her hand. She took it and let him help her to her feet, grabbing his arm with her other hand when the world spun a little.
“Whoa, that was weird.”
“Sometimes the altitude can make you lightheaded if you aren’t used to it.” His arm snaked around her waist, and she felt his lips brush the top of her head. “But you can lean on me for any reason.”
The seriousness of the offer was only strengthened by the way she felt in his arms. Safe. Secure. Protected. And the urge to do exactly what he wanted—to let herself go and put herself in his care—scared the hell out of her.
She was so out of her element with Everett Silverton. He was too good to be true, which usually led to something bad.
They started back down the mountain silently, even as Everett hung onto her hand. Callie wished she knew what he was thinking, what he was feeling. For some reason, she felt like she needed to fill the silence.
“My mom was an alcoholic too.”
Everett stopped and looked at her. “What?”
“My mom was an alcoholic. Wine was her drug.” With a bitter laugh, she added, “To this day, I still can’t stand the smell of it.”
“But . . . why?”
Callie moved past him down the trail, but he kept pace with her, his hand still gripping hers. She could feel his questioning gaze on her as she stared at the ground. “I can’t . . . it’s hard to talk about, but I just wanted you to know that I understand what you went through with your dad. Sometimes we don’t deal with pain or trauma well, and it’s just easier the use a bottle to block it out. I’ve been on both sides of the coin, and I started working the program because I didn’t want to live my life that way.”
Everett squeezed her hand. “I was scared for a long time that I was going to end up like him, especially after I came home. I was dealing with so much shit, and I was so tempted to take a bottle and sink into oblivion.”
“But you didn’t.”
“No.”
Callie could feel the space between them growing. Did he think she was weak for giving in? Was this it? Had she shared too much?
When they reached the trailhead, Everett released her hand, and it felt like all the warmth in her body left with him.
Callie walked over to her Jeep and loaded Ratchet inside, while Everett stood off to the side, waiting. When she shut the door and turned, he looked as awkward as she felt.
“Thank you for showing me the trail. And I’m sorry—”
“I thought we weren’t going to say sorry?”
Her heart squeezed. “You’re right. I just . . . ”
“What?”
“Nothing,” she said. “I’ll talk to you later, I guess.”
It looked like he was going to say something more, but he stopped.
As he turned to walk away, panic overwhelmed her and before she knew what she was doing, she reached out and put her hand on his arm. “Everett.”
When he faced her once more, she took a deep breath and stepped up to him. Climbing up onto her tiptoes, she kissed the corner of his mouth and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. If this was going to be the last time she saw him, she was going to kiss him. And let herself go.