Worst Intentions (Book One)

Chapter 20

With only shafts of moonlight squeezing through tall branches and lightening our path, we trudge through the woods for so long, we could've been walking in circles for all I know. Trevor's probably chosen the scenic route just to mess with me. Either that or my assumptions were right and he doesn't know where he's going.

As if the sound of my feet dragging along the earth and stirring up the smell of damp leaves and pine needles is not enough, he glances back every other minute to make sure I'm still tagging along. Each time I get the impression that he's berating me for not moving fast enough, so I bite my lip to keep from voicing certain choice words that vibrate on the edge of my tongue.

Becoming increasingly lightheaded, I push myself forward until I finally snap, the fatigue in my legs making me stop. "I need a break."

Trevor whirls around and expels his breath in a long, exasperated sigh. "Fine. Sit down while I gather some wood to start a fire. Looks like we'll be stuck here awhile."

"Sit down where? What if there are snakes lurking around?" I don't know why this random thought popped into my head after wandering in this wilderness of weeds and bushes for hours, but now I can't dismiss it.

"Yeah, that would not be ideal. We don't want you fainting again."

His attempt at ridiculing me brings back the memory of our first encounter. Like a damaged reel of film, it replays bits of clips I wish I could erase forever. The snake. The fright. Me passing out in his arms. Should've known it would become more fodder for his arsenal of jabs to use against me.

"Celia? Celia!"

I blink back into myself and give a full-body shiver that feels like a dog shaking off water. Only it's Trevor I'm shaking off. "When I was five . . . I almost died because of a rattlesnake bite. So screw you for making my fear of snakes seem trivial and unwarranted."

The curtain of impassivity drops from his eyes, his expression sheepish, like a chastised schoolboy. He doesn't apologize, not that I expect him to, but at least he has the decency to appear remorseful. Without a word, he grabs a stick and clears a small area of foliage, then gestures for me to take a seat on a fallen tree trunk.

Reluctantly, I settle on it and lean on the trunk at my back, resting my head against the rough bark and stretching out my aching legs. Trevor stands there as if he's been silenced, watching me. Slowly, a frown settles onto his forehead.

"I shouldn't have said that. It was insensitive and uncalled for."

Color me surprised. Is that his way of saying he's sorry? "Wow, that must have felt like barbed wire coming out."

The barb hits the mark, but instead of inciting him further, Trevor brushes it off and goes about gathering small twigs to start the fire, then places everything in a pile. Reaching into his jeans' pocket, he pulls out a set of keys that has a fire flint attached to it. A couple of tries and the dry tinder catches fire. I welcome its warmth and the little bit of light it provides, hoping it will keep critters and crawlers away.

Trevor sits so close to me our shoulders are practically touching. Whether it's intended or not, I'm not sure. I glance over at him, at his mussed hair and gorgeous eyes fringed with long lashes, and in that moment I really wish they were touching. No matter he rejected and mocked me like it's his pastime. You're such an idiot. Grinding away another layer of my molars, I catch the slightest hint of cologne and mint on him when he leans forward to throw another branch into the fire.

Damn him, why does he always have to smell so good?

He brings the collar of his hoodie to his nose and inhales. "Glad you approve."