Page 48 of Thoroughly Pucked

“I don’t entirely know. I looked it up—the fear ofsnakes. Did some research. I can’t figure it out. I just fucking hate them,” he says darkly.

“I shouldn’t have suggested we go hiking,” I say, guilt clawing at me. Why didn’t I realize this would trigger him? I was so focused on finding an activity that felt fun and adventurous for three people on a makeshift honeymoon.

But Dev stops again, tilts his head my way. Glares. “It’s not stopping me. I like hiking. I like moving. I like exercise. Don’t you even for a second think aboutnotdoing something because of me.”

His eyes are blazing. And they heat me up. Or maybe it’s the way he’s facing the fear anyway.For me. “Thank you,” I say.

“You’re welcome. Now let’s go. Dammit. Everyone knows honeymoons are for hiking,” he says dryly.

A laugh bursts from me. “Yes, they are.”

We soldier on, wandering past the water many feet below. Supposedly, there’s a bench around a loop in this trail with a view of the clear, bright blue waters, then the mountains all around us. I want to take a picture there, a memento of the trip.

We stop talking for a minute or so as the path narrows. We meander along, farther away from the water, till Ledger breaks the silence by clearing his throat. “What about you, Aubrey? You’re not afraid of S-N-A-K-E-S,” he says, and Dev turns back, rolling his eyes. “What’s your irrational fear?”

As we trek away from the water, deeper into the cool of the evergreens, I give it some thought, then avoid the truth. “I’m not actually sure.”

“You have to be afraid of something,” Ledger says.

He’s right. No one is fearless. But I don’t love saying mine. I try to turn his question around. “It’s funny that you ask. I hear so much of my clients’ fears. We tend to talk about everything. Their worries, their days. Fear of getting old, fear of dying, fear of spiders. Fear of intimacy. I try to listen to all of them. I try to help them if I can.”

Dev peers around me again. “Are you afraid of that?”

“Of what?”

“Feeling helpless,” he says easily.

Oh. Was I that obvious? Maybe I was.

Up ahead, I hear a rustling of leaves, then a gurgling sound. “Yes,” I admit.

“When do you feel helpless?” Dev asks as we reach the stream. There’s a huge log across it, a makeshift bridge.

My throat tightens. We shouldn’t be talking about things like fears on a platonic honeymoon. It makes you closer. It makes you like someone. It makes you care.

“When do I not?” I ask as I step onto the huge, felled tree. When we reach the other side, we’re deeper into the woods. It’s both quieter and noisier. The sounds are birds chirping, branches crunching, water bubbling. But the place becomes more serene, and quieter in that way.

“Do you mean because of your dad?” Dev asks gently after another minute of silent walking.

“Yes, but sometimes I feel like I can’t help my momeither. I think I can, but I don’t have what she needs,” I say.

“What’s that?” Ledger asks.

I turn to him, feeling helpless all over again. “She misses my dad.”

Sadness crosses his eyes but understanding too. “I’m sorry.”

“I shouldn’t be such a downer. It’s a trip. An adventure. It’s not time for being sad,” I say, and as I walk, I hunt for happier topics. Games. Events. Food. Something. Anything. “What’s your favorite?—”

My foot stumbles on the edge of the path.

Dev grabs my hand, jerking me close to him. My heart skitters. “You were about to step off the trail,” Dev says calmly, right as Ledger’s hand comes down on my hip, holding me firmly.

Dev’s eyes swing to the side of the path. Slowly, fearfully, I follow his gaze. Then gasp. There’s a sharp drop-off. A steep hillside. Maybe ten feet or so into the stream.

Right now, I’m up against Dev, my heart beating in my throat. I’m in front of Ledger, his hand curled on my hip. Neither man lets go.

I’m not afraid of a thing now. Although the fear of never kissing your brother’s best friends is a new one to add to the list.

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