Are you sure you want to stay home? It’s our last day here.”
Paul looks up at me from his book. “Oh, yes, the past two days have really taken it out of me. I want to rest up for our next adventure.”
Yesterday we spent the day on the Kolob Canyon side of Zion. Though we stuck to flat trails and Paul has the stamina of someone a dozen years younger, I believe him when he says he’s wiped out.
But there’s definitely a sparkle in his eye now as he tucks himself further into the corner of the couch.
God, that couch. If it were a person, I wouldn’t be able to look it in the eye. I can barely look Paul in the eye. My cheeks flame at the thought of what Theo and I have done there the past two nights. My brain instantly offers memories of the confident, commanding way he kisses me with his hand bracketing my jaw, how he looks looming over me in the darkness. Those tortured, bitten-off sounds that escape his mouth when I suck on his neck, or bite the curve of his shoulder while I’m stroking him. How, last night, after a full day of not being able to touch, he filled his palms with me—my breasts, hips, ass—like he’d been thinking of the shape of me for hours.
“Shepard.”
I jump. Theo’s standing by the door already. From under the brim of his hat, his eyes sparkle with amusement, like he knows what I was daydreaming about.
I feel bad leaving Paul here on our last day in Zion, but not so bad that I won’t take the opportunity to be alone with Theo. Plus, this means we can tackle a more strenuous hike; my body craves that burn.
“Okay, well, call us if you need us,” I say.
Paul waves cheerfully. “I won’t! Enjoy today’s letter.”
I pat my backpack, where it’s safely tucked. “Can’t wait.”
“We’ll be back by dinner.” Theo opens the door, barely moving back so that when I step past him, our bodies brush against each other. He bites his lip, grinning, and I give him a droll look, grazing my fingers across the front of his gym shorts as payback. His hand shoots out to grab my arm as he shuts the door. Cutting in front of me, he backs me up against the wood, still chilled from the early-morning air.
“Guess how many times I said your name.”
I arch an eyebrow. “Last night?”
His soft laugh brushes my lips like a kiss. “Right now.”
“Couldn’t have been more than twice.”
“Four times.” His eyes are fixed on my lips. I feel the bite of his teeth there, the slick slide of his tongue, the weight of him when I took him into my mouth last night. He had to be so quiet. His thighs shook so intensely, and when he came, his relief felt like my own. “What were you thinking about?”
I lick my bottom lip, satisfaction rolling through me when he follows the movement with an intensity I used to see on the tennis court. That single-minded attention waiting for a serve, for the chance to demonstrate his exceptional skill.
He’s good at a lot of things. I don’t hate it so much anymore.
“I was thinking about breakfast.” I let out a gasping laugh as he crowds into my space, pinning my hips to the door with his. “Lunch, too. Wondering what we’ll have for dinner.”
He smirks. “You did look pretty hungry.”
I flick his hat bill up so I can get a better look at his eyes. They’re hungry, too. “You ready for this hike, Spencer? I’m going to push you. Might kick your ass.”
His smirk turns into a full-out grin. “That sounds like a reward, not a threat.”
“You say that now, but wait ’til we’re on hour five.”
“Again, that sounds like a reward.” He ducks so his mouth is right there. Almost kissing me, but not quite. “But your threats always have.”
Before I can process that, he rubs his thumb over my bottom lip, then grazes the corner of my mouth with his. The stubble on his chin burns my skin. And so does his hand when he slaps my ass with dirty enthusiasm.
I gasp. “Oh, you assho—”
He’s already halfway down the stairs but turns back to toss me the van keys. “Let’s go, Shep. Time for you to show me up.”
I look over my shoulder at him as a drop of sweat trickles down his nose. I’d love to.
Instead, we’re hiking Angels Landing, a strenuous five-miler, with the sun blazing down, Theo randomly cursing behind me, and people passing us regularly on the trail. When the time comes for fucking, I sincerely hope it has a sexier ambiance. And less threat of death.
We’re not at the terrifying part of the hike yet, but even this portion is rigorous. The trail is carved into the side of the canyon, and though it’s wider in this series of switchbacks called Walter’s Wiggles, the drop-off is straight down with only scrubby plants to stop the fall.
“Buck up, Spencer, you got this,” I call over my shoulder. I’m winded, but my body is loving the familiar burn in my lungs, legs, and chest from the demanding incline.
Suddenly Theo’s closer, nearly at my back. “Logically, I know that you wore those shorts because they’re functional, but your ass in them is the only thing keeping me going right now.” He reaches out to grasp my spandex-covered hip with firm fingers, his thumb digging into my ass. “Also, the fact that you’re destroying me is hot.”
Pride buzzes inside me. “Where’s that competitive spirit?”
“Slid off the side of this trail after the twelfth switchback.”
I laugh. There are twenty-one.
“And anyway, I’ve always liked watching you kick ass, Shepard. Even if it was mine.”
“That’s not true at all.”
I appraise him. Despite his complaint, he looks like he could go for days. His cheeks are flushed, his forearms damp. But his strides are long and confident, and he’s only slightly more out of breath than I am.
He grins, catching my lingering eyes. “Completely true.”
“Not in high school.”
“For sure in high school.” I give him a look, and he holds up his hands, laughing. “Maybe you were annoyed by our competition, but I loved it. Either you were complimenting me in your ass backwards way, or you were killing it. Do you know how fun it is to see you get that homicidal glint in your eyes?”
“Oh please,” I scoff, like I didn’t inherit my focused murder eyes from my mother.
Theo’s breath dances over the back of my neck as he gets closer. Probably a distraction so he can overtake me. “You saw me as someone to battle against, and I admit I saw you like that, too. But there were times when you felt like my only equal.”
My foot catches on a patch of silky dust and I slide, only to catch myself against the wall. Theo’s right there, half a second behind me, crowding me to safety. My heart races, both from the brief loss of control and from his words. From how true I want them to be now, not in the past tense.
“Okay, well,” I say slowly, “that was a decade ago.”
“You’re kicking ass now, too.”
My eyebrows raise doubtfully. “You’re impressed because I’m a competent hiker?”
“It’s very hot, don’t underestimate that as a skill.” I roll my eyes, trying to break free from his grasp, but he keeps me caught. He bends down so he can murmur in my ear, “Not just that, though. After I made you come last night—”
“Oh my god,” I choke out with a laugh, pushing at his stomach. But he just smirks, not giving me an inch of space. A foursome passes us, the couple in back looking at us with amused smiles.
“I spent some time on your TikTok once you fell asleep. You’re good, Noelle, and I knew it as soon as you picked up your camera in Yosemite. You had this look on your face—the same look you’d get when you’d volley a ball back and you fucking knew you were going to get that point. It’s that I’ve got this look, and every single time you have that camera in your hand, it’s there.”
I swallow hard, staring up at him. There are people moving around us, feet shuffling in the dirt, breathless conversation, but it all bleeds away with his words.
“I admittedly don’t know shit about photography, so take my opinion with a grain of salt. What matters is you know you’re good, and it seems like you need someone to remind you that you know it.” Theo’s eyes track over my face. “So here I am, reminding you.”
His words warm me, but it doesn’t change the situation waiting for me at home: no job, no place to call my own. “I don’t have my shit together the way you think I do.”
I give him a piece of my secret to see what he’ll do with it. Search his face for any sign of dimming interest, or suspicion.
But his eyes are clear, and it does something so intensely dangerous to my heart, flares it with hope and feelings I refuse to name. “Neither do I.”
“You really, really do,” I whisper.
He sighs, pushing back a strand of hair that’s fallen from my ponytail. “Let’s keep climbing.”
“You good?” Theo asks as we come to a section that’s chainless, just a six-foot expanse of red rock with the valley swooping below us on either side. One wrong move and we’re dead, literally.
I swallow. “Um.”
Theo’s hand comes to rest on my back, right under my cropped tank top. My skin is sticky with exertion and fear. “We don’t have to keep going.”
I force myself not to look down, instead focusing my gaze straight ahead, where the canyon seems to go on infinitely, the monolithic rocks curving into the horizon. It’s so beautiful that my throat goes tight. “I want to get to the top. I’m just scared.”
He lets out a shaky breath. “Me too. But I’m with you, I want to get to the top.”
I take one step, toeing out to the unprotected path.
“Be so fucking careful, Noelle,” he says, his voice deepening. “Take your time. Don’t rush it, okay?”
“Okay.” But the word is so quiet that the air snatches it away, and I don’t know if he hears me at all.
We go silent, not even words of encouragement shared between us. The last portion is a straight climb up. Behind me, Theo’s breath saws in and out, and the cadence of it, the fact that I’m hearing it at all, sends a supernatural calm through my body.
And then we’re there. The earth flattens out and spits us onto a plateau. It feels like we’re at the very top of the world.
I tip my chin up, hands on my hips, trying to grab my breath back. The sky is so close. If I could just reach my hand up, and Gram could just reach hers down . . . maybe we could meet again. It’s the closest I’ve felt to her since she died.
I turn to Theo to say something profound, but he cups my cheek in his hand and presses his body and lips to mine. It’s a soft, tender embrace. He’s winded; his mouth opens over mine for a few gulps of air before he pouts his lips again, giving me one plucking kiss, then another.
“Holy shit,” he breathes out. He inspects my face, devouring every curve and corner like he’s reassuring himself that we didn’t in fact fall to our deaths. Then he kisses me again, this time deeper. I grip his forearms, sinking into the feeling of him, the hard beat of my heart and the shaking fear and exhilaration in my muscles.
“Look at the view,” I say against his mouth when we pull back for a breath.
His thumb grazes over the plane of my cheek. “I am.”
He holds me in his gaze for a beat, and right then, I know he really sees me. Then he turns, dropping his hand from my face as my chest swells, curling an arm over my shoulders so we can take it in together.
The sky is an endless, sun-bleached blue, the earth split into two beneath it. The canyons on either side are an ombre of red, pink, orange, and white, topped with trees. They’re massive, jagged, and ancient, layered from millions of years of microscopic, patient movements interrupted by cataclysmic events. It feels like life, those slow, steady moments of everyday routines, and the cracks made by life-changing things: love, death, other losses.
“God, I miss this.”
I look over at Theo, at the wonder painted on his face. “What?”
He gestures out in front of us. “This. Traveling. Living. I don’t know.”
“You haven’t been living?”
“I don’t think so,” he says, his eyes wandering over the view.
I don’t think I have, either. It’s certainly never felt like this.
I lean my cheek against his shoulder, scooting closer as his arm tightens around me. “All right, so what would Theo Spencer do if he were really living?”
His shoulder lifts in a sigh. “I’d do this, but for longer. Travel all over the place.”
The image plants itself inside my head, though I have no right to think it: my sand-crusted skin pressed up against Theo’s on some beach, a sweating drink next to each of us, tasting the ocean on his lips. Exploring new cities on the other side of the world together. Future things we haven’t agreed to.
Theo brushes his fingers along my bare shoulder, bringing me out of my secret thoughts. “You gonna take some pictures?”
I give him a look. “Do you even know me?”
He grins. “Let me take a picture of you first. Memorialize your success at not falling off the side of the mountain.”
“Just because I fell one time—” I try to sound annoyed, but his happiness is infectious, so I duck my head to hide my mirrored emotion, pulling my camera from my bag.
He frowns down at it after I hand it to him, until I take pity and show him where the shutter release is. “Just like this, so you can see through the viewfinder.” I push the camera up to his eye and he nods, then drops it an inch, squinting playfully over the top.
He points to a few feet away. “Go stand over there. In front of that bush so you’re not right on the edge.”
I make my way over, unable to wipe the stupid grin from my face. Theo’s adorable when he’s clueless and lethal when he’s playful. The combination of the two might destroy me.
“Noelle,” he calls, and I look over my shoulder just as he takes a picture. I’m still startled by the sound of my name in his mouth, so distracted by the thrill it sends spiraling in my stomach, that I don’t have a chance to school my expression. He grins knowingly. “Got you.”
When he pulls me onto a slab of rock after I’ve taken my pictures so we can read the letter from Gram, he winds his hand around my thigh, securing me to him even further. He has me so fully that I worry how I’m going to untangle myself when this is over.
But that’s not for me to worry about right now. Instead, I open the letters and read Gram’s words from my spot on top of the world.
January 26, 1957
My dearest Paul,
I thought being with you without my parents’ blessing would be terrifying. It’s scary, but so much less so because I have you.
I don’t know what’s going to happen. We have until the school year’s over before we discuss our next steps. Eventually, I’ll have to tell my family, and I don’t know if this happiness will last or if it’ll be taken away again. I could write a thousand lists to help prepare myself, but just like with that damn dinner, it won’t make a difference. Anything could happen in the future. Good, bad, who knows?
Tonight, after you dropped me off at home, I decided that I’m going to let myself be happy right now. I’m going to do this for me, for you, and not concern myself with what ifs or the future.
I’m telling you this so that if I start worrying or making lists, you can help me push it aside. Right here and now is exactly where I want to be.
Yours in this moment,
Kat
