“I hope you don’t think I’m getting out in the hea—”
“Let’s go.” David appeared on my right, opening my door.
“How did you get there so fast?”
“Come on.” He grabbed my hand, leaning in to unbuckle me. “I wanna show you something.”
Chapter Eight
The trees opened out to a forest trail before us, and the sun streaked through gaps in the tightly laced canopy, splashing long, dust-filled beams across the path. Above us, the summer heat looked on, forbidden to taint the cool, kind of clay-scented air.
“Watch your step here.” David steered me around a small cluster of rocks hidden beneath a pile of leaves.
“Thanks. I totally didn’t see that.”
He gave a soft nod, sliding his hand off my lower back. “I know.”
“So, where are we going exactly?”
“South-west.”
“Hm. Helpful.” I looked to the path ahead, then up at the ball-shaped glare of the sun through the trees, using my hand as a visor. “But actually, we’re going slightly more south.”
“True.” David nodded. “The path we’re on heads south, but turns to the west up ahead.” He stopped walking and looked at me. “Wait, how did you know that?”
“I’m Aussie.” I used my best homeland-sounding accent. “My friend Mike taught me how to roughly guess my direction by looking at the sun—said it would come in handy if I ever found myself in the bush…with a strange guy…who might not turn out to be so nice.”
“Right.” David wiped a hand across his grin as he started walking again. “Sounds like Mike’s a smart man.”
“Yeah.” I followed after him, making no real effort to catch up. “Taught me some defensive moves, too.”
“Is that so?” He sprung up right in front of me, catching me as my face hit his chest. “You weren’t hinting at me about anything, were you?”
“How did you get there so fast?”
“I was standing right here, waiting for you. You really should watch where you’re going.”
I glared up at him quizzically.
“Ara? I asked you a question. Were you suggesting I’d be capable of hurting you?”
“How would I know? I don’t really know you.”
His eyes left my face before he turned and trudged off. “Ouch.”
“Well, you don’t really give me much to go on.” I chased after him. “I mean, you’re so secretive all the time.”
“Secretive?”
“Yeah.”
“About what, specifically?” He stopped again, wearing a defensive smile.
“Um—” I stopped walking too. “Well. I really don’t know.”
“So…you want me to be less secretive about nothing specifically?” He nodded once and started walking again.
“How do you do that?” My footfalls came down hard on the muddy leaves, slipping a little with the weight of irritation.
“Do what?”
“Take my well-thought-out point and turn it into nothing.”
The smile sparkled in his eyes as I caught up to him. “It’s a talent of mine.”
“It’s annoying. I really hate you for it,” I said in a light-hearted tone.
He stopped again, almost as if he’d been sprung back by an elastic hinge. “Hate is a very powerful word, mon amour. Do not use it unless you truly understand its value.”
“Okay then…” I folded my arms. “I despise you…” Affectionately.
David smiled to himself. “I can live with that—for now.”
We walked in silence for a bit then; me, trying to control my breath so I didn’t sound puffed out, beside him, who walked so straight and tall I wondered if he really felt the ground beneath his feet at all.
“But it’s true, you know,” I said after a while.
“What?”
“Your inability to elaborate. I’ve asked you heaps of questions about yourself and, somehow, you’ve managed not to tell me anything. And I didn’t even realise how little I actually knew until Emily started telling me all about Spencer, you know, what brands he likes, what colour his bike is. And she hadn’t actually even spoken to him yet.” I shook my head. “I don’t even know if you like cats or dogs.”
He laughed to himself, his boots crunching dry leaves beneath his steps. “Cats, if I’m sitting at home on a cold night; dogs, if I’m going for a run.”
“You run?”
He nodded. “I like to keep fit.”
I let that simmer for a while, thinking about everything.
After a minute of silent companionship, David stretched out his arm and pointed ahead of us. “See that slight thinning of the trees up ahead?”
I nodded.
“That’s where we’re headed.”
“What’s up there?”
“It’s a surprise.”
Everything with you is.
We walked toward a newly decaying cedar tree, laying sidelong, slanted a little down the slope of the trail, making a wooden partition between us and the sudden openness of whatever was beyond. As we came nearer to the opening, the muddy clay smell disappeared under a damp, kind of mossy scent, spiked with the lemony fragrance of tree sap.
David stepped up quickly and took my hand, guiding me around the tree. “Welcome to the lake.”
“What the…”
The leaves stole my gaze upward before casting it out to the unspoiled, reflective body of water in front of me. A grand pathway of clover blanketed the trail toward the edge of the lake, and tiny hovering bugs danced above the star-shaped foliage left abandoned by maple trees. Though the sky dominated the space, it still felt cool and shadowed and kind of…private. A place not so very different from the mountain-surrounded picnic spots my dad used to take me to, but with an element of magic to it, like, somehow, I could believe we were the only two souls left in the world.
“David, this is beautiful.” I searched the vacant place beside me where David no longer stood, finding him leaning on a bulky, waist-height rock, right by the water’s edge. “How did you find this place?”
“It’s not something you’d find on a hike.” He unhitched himself from the black rock and walked behind it, then squatted down. “No one comes out to this trail anymore.”
“Anymore?”
He stood up, smiling, and presented a pillow-sized black bag. “This land is owned by my family. We closed the hiking trails to outsiders about a hundred years ago.”