“We chatted about random things. He asked me about school, I asked him about work. You know, all that boring shit. Things didn’t used to be that strained between us. You knew I always liked Shane. Well, at first I did. Anyway, I finished my beer and asked if I could have another. He said, ‘Sure. Help yourself.’ So I did. It was when I was in the kitchen at the fridge that he came up behind me. I turned around so fast I just about fell into the butter, he scared me so bad. And then he kissed me. Just like that. Like he thought that was okay.”

When she pauses, I wait for her to continue, but she doesn’t. “So what did you do?”

“Nothing. When he leaned back, I told him I had to go. So I grabbed my shit and I left.”

“And that’s it?”

“I was freaked out, Laney! Wouldn’t you have been? I mean, imagine what kind of position that put me in. Yes, I’d been warning you about him, but to say he tried to kiss me would only make you think badly of me, which is really sad but true.”

“So you’re saying that because I had faith in my fiancé, you felt you had no choice but to sleep with him to prove a point?”

“God!” Tori exclaims, throwing her head back. “Laney, no. I’m just saying that I knew you’d have to see it for yourself to believe it. That’s all. Cheese and crackers, woman!”

I’m too angry to be softened by the expression—cheese and crackers—that Tori has used all our lives, one that I always loved. At the moment, I have no tender feelings toward her at all. I just feel manipulated. And foolish.

“And now I’m supposed to thank you for sleeping with my fiancé to open my eyes? Well, forgive me if I just can’t muster up any sincerity for something like that.”

I can’t help the bitter edge to my voice. She’s lucky that’s all she’s getting. I jerk my hands out from under hers and sit back in my seat, needing a physical distance from Tori.

“Laney, that’s what I’ve been trying to tell you. I. Didn’t. Sleep. With. Him.”

“And you expect me to believe that?”

“Why wouldn’t you? When have I ever shown the tiniest bit of interest in Shane? I think he’s a total girl. I like my men manly, you know that.”

I narrow my eyes on her. “But we both know you’ve mistakenly fallen into bed with the wrong guy before.”

Her cheeks turn a little pink. “I won’t argue that, but never with your guy, Laney. Never. I would never do that. I knew you’d be home. I knew if he was the kind of man I thought he was that he’d do it in a heartbeat. I’m just sorry that I was right.” Tori closes her eyes and whispers, “I’d give anything for him to have proved me wrong.”

Suddenly, I feel . . . too much. I feel trapped. Suffocated. I feel tears threaten. I feel stupid and alone and confused. And I feel the need to get out of here.

“Tori, can we, um, can we finish this later? I really need to get going.” I don’t look up as I grab my purse and slide from the booth. Tori doesn’t move to follow me. Or try to stop me. But before I can wheel my cart far from her, she reaches out and touches my arm as I pass.

“I love you, Laney Holt. I always have. You’re like my family.”

I wait until she moves her hand before I walk away. I push my buggy back to the produce aisle, where I left off. Tears are streaming down my face the whole way.

I give the last strap a tug, tightening it around the bundle of supplies tied to the small bed at the back of the Jeep. I check the other tethers to make sure they’re secure. When I’m pretty confident all our shit won’t fall out in the middle of a mudhole, I turn to Laney.

“Ready?” I ask.

She smiles widely and nods her head. It’s the first time she’s seemed really . . . herself since she got back from the grocery store yesterday. I don’t know what happened, and I’m not about to ask. I’m not sure she’d tell me, anyway. That thing where Laney’s not like most women—the ones who feel the need to spill their guts on a regular basis—works against me in some cases. Like now. I wonder what’s wrong, but I don’t want to give Laney the wrong impression by seeming concerned.

You don’t want her to think you care, you asshole?

I hide my frown as I open the passenger door for Laney. I don’t know why I don’t want her to know that I care. I just know that I don’t. Maybe it’s because caring comes with responsibility, and Laney doesn’t know that I destroy the things I care about. She doesn’t know that I can’t be responsible for her. It’s not just that it’s more comfortable for me. It’s that it’s best for her.

We’re both quiet on the drive up into what we locals call the “mountains.” To those people who grew up around real mountains, these are more like really big hills covered in trees. But for people who live in a state that has a lot of flat land, these are mountains.

When we get to the tricky parts, the areas that travel over stretches of the river and go up and down really sharp inclines, I notice Laney grab the handle above the door and brace her feet against the floorboard.

“Now you know why they call them ‘oh shit’ handles,” I tell her with a grin.

She smiles, but her eyes are wide, which makes my grin that much bigger.

A couple of times I hit a deep spot in the river and it jars us both pretty good. Laney gasps, but doesn’t say a word. She’s just flushed-faced and beaming when I look at her. She’s learning to enjoy the shocks and surprises in any given moment. The thrill of a rush. The pleasure in not watching life from the sidelines. I know she was kind of looking for it when we met, but I can’t help but watch her with a little bit of pride, to look at her when she’s enjoying herself and think to myself that I did that. It makes me happy in some way, in some place I’d rather not explore too deeply. I just know I’m not ready to give it up quite yet. I’m not ready to give her up quite yet. So I’m gonna make the most out of this weekend.

“How much farther?” she asks at one point.

“Maybe four miles. Something like that.”

She once admitted to me that she’d never been camping. I couldn’t believe it. But it seems to be true, if I’m only judging by her level of excitement. And that’s fine with me. I’m excited, too. Just for a different reason. I plan to have as much sex with this woman as I can possibly cram into three days and two nights. I need to start working her out of my system. I need to get this thirst for her under control. We don’t have much time left, and I have to be ready to let her go.

As always, thinking about her leaving is like having a storm cloud settle over my life for a few seconds, which is exactly why I don’t spend too much time dwelling on it. She needs to move on with her life and so do I. Once this is all said and done, we’ll go our separate ways and that’s that.

But still, I don’t really enjoy thinking about it.

Up ahead, I see the clearing come into sight. When we top the knoll, I pull to a stop on one side of the camp and cut the engine. The instant the Jeep’s throaty purr can’t be heard, the sounds of nature seem ten times louder. Birds chirping, water rushing over rocks, the wind rustling the leaves—it’s the most peaceful loud in the world.

I get out and start unpacking our supplies. Laney comes to stand behind me, holding out her arms. “Okay, gimme something.”

I quirk one brow at her. “I’ll give you something,” I say suggestively.

She grins broadly. “I mean give me something useful.”

I say nothing for about three seconds before I lunge for her. She’s ready for me, though, and she takes off across the clearing, screaming at the top of her lungs. It only takes me a few long strides to catch her, and when I do, I wrap my arms around her waist, pull her back up against my chest and swing her like I’m going to throw her. “What was that you said?”