Smiling, I pull her closer. I slide my arms across the curve of her back, one hand lifting into the cool softness of her hair, cupping her head against my heart. The scent of flowers is strong in the air but nothing near as good as the sweet smell of her hair. “No wonder you were so scared today. How did they leave you alone all that time?”
“It wasn’t their fault.” I feel the hesitant touch of her fingers at my waist. “They warned me it could be dangerous. I should’ve listened when they said to stay on the trail.” Her throat works over a swallow. “It’s okay, Anthony. It was years ago.”
“It’s not years ago in your head, though, is it?”
She sighs. Her hands slide all the way around me. “Two minutes,” she mutters.
I smile again, glad to feel her relax.
“I guess I was more tense from today than I realized.”
“You’re spending every day in a place that scares you. Why wouldn’t you be?”
“It gets easier every day. My parents are both so proud I’m doing this. But,” she finally steps back to put space between us, “they would never, ever make me face an actual snake.”
I nod with understanding. “Then it’s a good thing they’re not here.” I grab her hand.
She shrieks. “Wait—you’re not still—”
“We’re going in.”
“Let go of my hand. No touching!”
“It’s for health reasons.”
“I can’t go in there.”
“You can with me. You do all kinds of out-of-character things with me. Remember? You just said so.” Still, I let her hand go. It has to be her choice. “You want to get over this?”
“Yes.” She folds her arms over her chest like a grumpy child. “But not if it means going in.”
“You know they’re behind thick glass. They can’t get you. They can’t touch you. Even if they could, I wouldn’t let them.”
She closes her eyes on a groan. “I didn’t say it was a rational fear.”
“Well. The best way to get over irrational fears is to face them in a safe, controlled environment.”
When her eyes flash open, it’s with a challenging glare. “And what are you afraid of?”
I tilt my head, thinking. “A girl I want to kiss. Constantly.”
Her eyes soften in a way that makes me want to hold her again. “You’re only saying that to wear me down on Rule 5.”
“Come on,” I say. “I’ll lead the way. I’ll even hold your hand, but only for health reasons.”
Her lips lift in a tiny smile. She looks toward the door of the reptile house. At my hand. “Fine. For health reasons.”
I slip my hand around hers and give it a light squeeze. “We’re going to do this, and it’s going to be no big deal.”
She nods and squeezes back as if she’s drawing strength from me. “But if I need to leave, we leave.”
“Absolutely.”
The entryway is lit from above with small yellow globes so it feels darker inside and definitely cooler. Air conditioning buzzes, and the stone walls and pebbled path add to the chill. There are enclosures on both sides, glowing from within. She turns her face into my shoulder, but at least there’s no “Jingle Bells.” That’s a good sign.
“We’ll start with the lizards. You got a thing about lizards?” I ask.
“Yes.” Her breath catches, speeds up.
I squeeze her fingers again, my mind scrambling for a way to help her relax.
“Grant sort of has a lizard nose,” I say. “Don’t you think?”
“What?” That makes her look up. “He does not.”
I start us walking. “Squat. Weird discoloration on the end.”
“That is such a lie.”
“Amber has a nice nose,” I add.
“I saw you flirting with her.”
“She’s got a beautiful name. Amber. It’s my mom’s birthstone.”
Her voice is a grumble. “It’s the color of over-vitamined urine.”
I bark out a laugh, the sound echoing in the enclosure. Mai stops and looks around. She’s just now realized we’ve walked past three enclosures while we were talking and we’re standing in front of a snake. Multiple snakes. She turns her face into my shoulder again.
“You okay?”
“As long as I don’t look.” She pauses. “Are you wearing cologne?”
“No. It’s my soap.”
“I like it.”
“I’ll throw it out.”
She laughs into my shirt. Then she pulls back, her eyes wide with surprise. “I’m standing in front of snakes, and I’m laughing.”
“Is that a good laugh or an I’m-losing-my-mind laugh?”
She thinks a second. “It’s a good one.”
A grin spreads across my own face. I made Mai laugh in the Reptile House. The thought puffs me up like I just hit a home run, and I want to take my stroll around the bases and soak up the applause. Jeez, grip a grip, Adams.
I clear my throat and turn back to the snakes. “Let’s meet some more of these guys.”
“It’s not that good of a laugh.” Her gaze shifts over the backlit enclosures. Her knees wobble.
“I got you.” I tug her forward. “Come on. I want you to meet Felix.”
“Felix?”
I gesture to a diamondback rattler watching us from behind heavy glass. Its checkered body is draped over a thick branch, black eyes shining like marbles. “Think of a snake as having a name. A mom and dad. It’s not all that different from us.”
“Oh right. Very similar. It has no arms or legs and yet, somehow, it can kill you faster than you can blink.”
“Nah.” I squeeze her fingers. “It takes much longer than that to die of the venom.”
“Anthony!” She smacks my shoulder with her free hand.
It only makes me want to grin more.
I’m not supposed to be grinning.
I’m supposed to find her annoying. I’m supposed to be annoying. Would she be annoyed if I kissed her? Because I would really like to do that.
I shake away the thought. The point is to get over this, not get in any deeper. Why should I care that she’s being all brave right now? Sure, I’m feeling protective of her—I’d feel that way with anyone. I’m just providing snake therapy. It’s a public service. She’ll get back on her high horse as soon as we’re out of here and I can go back to being annoyed.