For a few moments, her brain was free of everything. All she could feel was the two of them breathing in unison, everything at peace, her body at rest in the knowledge that she was in Riley’s arms, where she belonged.
After weeks apart, the first times were always like this, almost manic in their desperation to be near each other. But now would come the slow and long and easy—
Like a rubber band snapping against her skin, reality came crashing back.
There would be no slow and long and easy this time.
There shouldn’t have been anything at all.
She slapped at his shoulder. “Let me down.”
“Wildfire.” He didn’t move.
“I mean it, Riley. Let me down.”
She could feel the panic bubbling up inside of her. She needed to get away. He was going to want to talk now, and nothing had changed.
The only thing that had changed was he’d proved she still wanted him.
He backed away just enough for her to disengage their bodies and scoot over to the side to pull her underwear and pants back on.
“Wildfire, we need to talk.”
She looked up to find him buttoning his jeans. “We really don’t. This doesn’t change anything.”
She grabbed her jacket from the floor and kept herself pressed up against the wall.
She had to get out of here. If he touched her now, pressed her for the truth, she was going to crumble. She couldn’t do that. Not to him. Not to herself.
A sob was choking up from deep inside of her. A scream. It had been there since she’d gotten her diagnosis, but she’d kept it buried inside.
She couldn’t let it out now.
“Wildfire, talk to me. Whatever it is, we’ll work it out together.”
She pulled her jacket up to her chest and held it in front of her like a shield. “Not this time,” she whispered. “Not all bad guys can be fought.”
“What does that mean?”
What the heck was she doing? Being cryptic was just going to make him more concerned and curious, not less. She needed to make this cut as clean as possible.
She straightened, cleared her throat, and dropped the jacket to her side. “You shouldn’t have come here, Riley. Yeah, the breakup sex was great, but that’s over now. You need to leave. You know you have no interest in doing this race again. You’re here because of us.”
She pushed away from the wall. She had to show strength now. Any sign of fragility was going to have him trying to play protector. She slipped her arms into the sleeves of her jacket. “We’re done, Riley. It’s that simple.”
“And if I don’t accept that?”
“Sorry to tell you, you don’t get a choice. You shouldn’t be here. There’s nothing left for you to win. So just go. Make it easier on both of us.”
Without giving him a chance to respond, she turned and walked out the door.
Chapter 5
Her contagious laughter rang out through the entire camp. An animated, rowdy guffaw that ended with an adorable little snort.
Phoenix knew where the laugh was coming from without even having to look. But he looked anyway.
He wanted to look.
The young nurse with his same name. Although somehow Riley sounded infinitely more sexy attached to her than it did to him
He’d seen her every day in the four days since the race started, but they’d only been able to talk to each other in passing. She’d been busy assisting the older doctor in treating any injuries the Wild Wyoming Adventure Race participants had received.
Phoenix had never been so disappointed to not be injured in his life.
The cut he’d gotten on his arm today pulling a kayak out of the river definitely wasn’t something he’d normally bother a medical professional about—barely more than a scratch.
But since the sexy nurse with the striking pink hair and I-love-life laugh wasn’t currently examining someone else, he thought now would be a good time to show her his mortal wound.
As Phoenix, he’d parachuted out of airplanes, SCUBA dived with sharks circling around him, and snowboarded in the pristine snow of the Alps in areas only reachable by helicopter. None of those things stole his breath like the sight of the impish grin on this woman’s face as she glanced up at him from her perch on the picnic table as he approached.
“Hi, I’m—”
“Phoenix,” she completed for him. “I think everyone here knows who you are.”
It was one of the few times he wished his recent YouTube escapades hadn’t made him somewhat of a celebrity. But then again, without those he wouldn’t be in this race.
Wouldn’t be here with her.
“Phoenix is just a nickname. I’m Riley Harrison.”
She held out her hand. “Riley Wilde.”
He took her hand in his but didn’t shake it. Just held it, eternally grateful when she didn’t pull away and stare at him like he was some sort of creep.
Just let her hand rest in his.
“Everybody’s already calling us Boy Riley and Girl Riley,” he said, thumb stroking over the back of her hand.
“I guess that’s better than other possibilities. Short Riley and Tall Riley. Crazy Riley and Nurse Riley.”
“Beautiful Riley and the Riley Who Won’t Leave Her Alone.”
Her smile got even bigger. “This is the first time we’ve even really talked.”
“I didn’t want to bother you. You’re working, treating the injured racers. I know that’s important.” He stroked her soft skin again, then let go of her hand. “Actually, that’s why I came over. I almost mortally wounded myself today with a kayak.”
Her hazel eyes grew serious, and she sat up straighter. “Why didn’t you tell me you were hurt? Want me to grab Dr. Lewis? I’m just here shadowing him so I can take over medical supervision of the race next year.”
“Actually, do you mind looking at my injury? I trust your medical opinion. But I’m afraid I might need an amputation.”
He slid up his sleeve and held out his forearm to show her the tiny scratch.
She laughed softly—a sound he was becoming addicted to pretty damn quickly. “Wow. It’s amazing you made it back to camp of your own volition with a wound this serious.”
Her fingers slid over the scratch and their eyes met. “I’m very brave,” he said, somehow able to keep a straight face.
Her smile.
God. Her smile.
“You are very brave, Phoenix.” She stroked his arm again. It was the most decidedly sexual, non-sexual thing he’d ever experienced, and he wished there weren’t dozens of people walking around them everywhere.
“I need a nickname for you. I can’t call you Girl Riley.” She let go of his arm, but only to reach down into the medical kit next to her and pull out a small adhesive bandage and begin taking it from its wrapper. “Do you have a middle name?”
“Nope. My mom and dad couldn’t agree on one—one of the ten thousand things they couldn’t agree on before they finally divorced—so I’m just Riley Wilde.” She put the bandage over his tiny scrape.
He caught her hand again. She didn’t pull away again. “Alright, Wilde, I’m going to call you Wildfire. Seems perfect for you.”