“For the record, I’m getting that Yoda thing engraved on your tombstone,” he deadpans.
“Hey, you’re the one who wanted to hang out with me all night. I’m not responsible for any of the weird shit I say in the next few hours, thank you very much.” I watch as Will aims for an exit I don’t recognize. “Where are you taking me?”
Stealing a fry, he grins. “Somewhere even higher than you are.”
“A walk in the woods? Seriously? It’s four in the morning and you want me to exercise?” I whine, following Will down a hiking trail and wondering why high Kass lacks basic brain functions.
This is the definition of dumb, not to mention so unlike me. I would never, in a million years, advise someone to follow a guy into a forest alone at night, yet here I am, agreeing to my brother’s best friend whack plan without blinking.
“Relax. It’s a five-minute walk tops,” he assures me.
I refrain from arguing, shadowing him down the narrow path. Will’s “secret spot” turned out to be a lot farther from home than I expected. It took us almost two hours to get here. Crazy part is, I didn’t mind the drive, too busy bickering with him about who finished the fries.
We can hear cars whooshing in the distance. This jogging trail is situated near the highway, separating the road from an obviously wealthy neighborhood. I’ve never been to this area before, but Will seems to know it like the back of his hand.
Yes, Will is dragging me into a random forest at four in the morning, but at least, it’s a nice forest. The path is paved and bordered by white lights. I bet a bunch of vegan girls jog here in the morning and post about it on their Instagram stories.
“Somewhere higher than I am.” I recall his words. “Are we climbing a tree?”
He slows the pace, thinking his answer through.
“That’s exactly what we’re doing.”
What the fuck?
“Just a bit further.” He motions, stepping off the trail and venturing into the woods.
This is it.
He’s going to kill me.
“Okay, you’ve just reached a whole new level of creepy, Martins,” I mumble under my breath.
He smiles at that but doesn’t grace me with a response, focused on finding his way. His way to where, you ask? The best spot to bury me, probably.
Five minutes later, he stops.
“Thank fuck,” he rejoices.
That’s when I see it.
A tree house.
“I was starting to think someone tore it down,” he adds.
I assess the wood structure and its hanging ladder for a few seconds. It’s far from the path, well hidden, probably hard to find unless you know where it is. It’s the kind of house Kendrick and I desperately wanted as kids but never got because our parents can’t build shit. Dad always said he would do it only to bail whenever we reminded him.
I zoom in on the old, cracked ladder. The whole place looks like a dream. An old, faded, abandoned dream. My guess is it’s been a hot minute since Will was here.
Fascinated, I move close—
“Careful!” he blurts, gripping my waist and yanking me backward so fast the breath is knocked out of me. Sagging against his chest, I screech and gape at my feet, realizing I almost stepped into some sort of ditch. It’s covered in dead leaves, just about impossible to see. Looks deep, too.
“You good?”
I hear his question, but all I can think about are his hands on my waist.
“Kass?” he asks again.
“I-I’m sorry?”
“I said are you good?” He lets out a quiet laugh, so close the warmth of his breath tickles my ear.
“Uh, yeah, I-I’m good, great, fantastic.” I clear my throat.
He releases my hips.
“Come on. View’s better up there,” he says, as cool as a freaking cucumber, and as I watch him climb up the ladder…
I can’t help wishing I felt that way, too.
“Is this yours?” I ask, hair waving in the wind, feet hanging in the emptiness. We’re both sitting near the edge of the open tree house, staring at the horizon.
The sun will be rising soon.
“It used to be. My dad and I built it when I was a kid,” he explains.
“Oh, you live in the neighborhood?”
“Not anymore. We moved.”
Well, duh. It took us a while to get here. He’d be way too far from school. I’ve never cared to find out anything about Will’s life before, convinced he was nothing more than Kendrick’s clown friend. But now? I wish I’d bothered to listen when my brother talks. Just so I would know a thing or two about the blue-eyed mystery next to me.
“Yeah? How long ago was that?”
He shrugs. “I don’t know. Like ten years.”
“No way you haven’t been here in ten years.” I scrutinize the cabin. Barely any leaves lie inside. This definitely isn’t a decade’s worth of dirt. Not to mention the foundation of the tree house feels rock-solid.
“I still come here from time to time. To clear my head.”
“Let me guess, I’m the first girl you brought here?” I huff in expectation of a major cliché.
“Please,” he scoffs. “I lost my virginity right where you’re sitting.”
Annnd there he is.
He laughs. “Look, if it makes you feel any better, you’re the first girl I brought here with no intention to shag.”
I force a smile, nibbling at the inside of my cheek. Is he saying he doesn’t want to shag me? As in ever? Not that I want him to want to shag me but…
Oh my God, Kass, shut the fuck up.
“Thanks. I feel real special.” I cradle my legs to my chest, hugging them to my body and resting my chin on top of my knees. It’s getting chilly out. “How is that a good hookup spot though? What’s your line? Hey, want to go fuck in a tree?”
“Who says I need a line? Chicks get all mushy when you show them your childhood tree house,” he jokes—I think?
“Is that why you brought me here? To make me mushy?”
He looks up and smiles.
“Nah. I brought you here for that.”
My mouth dips open when I catch the distant mingle of colors blending through the trees. We have a perfect shot of the rising sun from up here.
“Holy shit.”
“I know,” he whispers.
We don’t say a word for over five seconds.
“Can we just never leave?” I ask.
“We’re going to have to, eventually. Preferably before you turn into a block of ice.”
So, he noticed how cold I am.
“I’m fine,” I lie.
He doesn’t say another word, removes his jacket, that he found lying in the back seat of his car earlier, and drops it on my shoulders, no questions asked.
I heave a chuckle. “You’re the most confusing guy on earth, you know that? One second you’re talking about shagging in a tree, and the next you’re giving a girl your jacket.” I stare up at him. “I feel sorry for anyone who’s ever had the misfortune of falling in love with you.”
When the words escape my lips, a mix of emotions race through his eyes. Pain, annoyance, or is it… shame? He avoids my gaze, suddenly colder than I am.