Untraceable (25 page)

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Authors: S. R. Johannes

Tags: #YA

BOOK: Untraceable
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Only instead of pulling up, I yank on his arm, catching him totally off guard.

A look of shock replaces his blazing smile as he tumbles into the river. He catches himself with his hands, but not before his face smacks the water. I immediately crack up. It feels good to laugh again. Like really laugh.

Mo springs to his feet in a nanosecond and plasters on an I’m-going-to-get-you expression. He cups his hands together and splashes me, soaking the small part of me that’s still dry. I fight back with a fury, kicking water in his face. At this point, we’re both hysterical. When I see my chance, I slop off through the water, lifting my legs high for speed.

Mo chases after me.

Screaming, I try to escape, but he tackles me. As I scramble to get away, he clutches onto my ankle and pulls me backwards. Rolling over, I fight him by squirting water in his face.

Instead of splashing back, he holds down my hands and kisses me. I feel as if I’m gliding on top of the river like a canoe. The water sloshes in my ears. We kiss for several long minutes before parting.

I frown. “I think that was cheating.”

“All’s fair in love and water war. Couldn’t let myself be brought down by a girl again.” Deep crinkles spray the corners of his eyes. Water droplets fall off his dark hair and land on my lips. “Your eyes are the same color as the Alexandrite I gave you.”

I tilt my head back and laugh. “Are you serious? That’s your line! Wait, are they twinkling like the stars too?”

He smirks. “How come every time I give you a compliment, you make a joke?”

Because I’m scared to death?
“Because I’m naturally funny?”

He doesn’t bite. “Maybe you’re afraid of something.”

I shift uncomfortably at his insight. “Of what? You? Hardly.”

Mo pecks my forehead. “No, not me. Of
us
.”

Us? Are Mo and I an “us”? A “we”? My face singes. For once, I can’t come up with a clever retort.

He opens his mouth as if he’s going to speak but stops short.

“What is it?”

He props his butt on his heels. “Nothing.”

“You were going to say something.” Mo doesn’t respond. Instead, he slicks back his wet hair and pulls his soaked shirt away from his toned chest, making a sucking sound. I click my lips. “Now who’s pushing who away?”

Mo holds out both hands and lifts me to my feet. Our wet bodies press against each other. He wraps his strong arms around me. “Is this close enough?”

I shrug. “Not quite.”

He pecks me on the lips. “Come on, then.”

“Where to?”

Mo tosses his backpack over one shoulder. “To my place.”

“Out here? Isn’t that a little strange?”

He shrugs like he’s never thought about it before. “I don’t think so. I like it. It’d be harder to hike in everyday and find samples. Why not just enjoy it before my semester starts up again?”

“Good point.” I try not to appear too excited at the thought of heading off into the woods with him. “But I’m all wet.”

“Don’t worry, there’s no dress code. I’ll get us warm. Plus I owe you some home cooking.”

I bite back another protest and follow him up the embankment. After gathering our things, we trek deep into the woods scattered with shadows dancing in the dimming light. The further we go, the thinner the path and the thicker the foliage. The sun is still setting in the sky, but down on the forest floor, it’s already night time, making it hard to follow his outline.

“Mo? Where are you?” I whisper.

A beam of light breaks through the trees a few yards ahead. “I’m over here.”

I steer in his direction, with my hands out in front, protecting my face from protruding branches and creepy spider webs. I wince as a wiry branch snatches onto a clump of my hair and rips several strands at the root.

Up ahead, an arching line of light sweeps across the ground and reflects off something shiny to my right. “Hey. Shine the light over here a second. I want to see something.”

Mo doesn’t answer.

Squatting down, I press the faint LED light on my watch. Something glimmers from under a pile of wet leaves. I brush my hand along the ground until my fingers touch something hard and cold. I hold up the shiny object, trying to make it out in the glow of my watch. Too dim. I try to note the coordinates too even thought it’s hard to see.

“Mo, I need your flashlight.” He doesn’t answer so I stuff the object into my pocket. “Mo?”

I try to focus on anything in front of me, hoping my eyes will adjust. The woods grow quiet. My heart flutters.

Then out of nowhere, someone grabs my shoulder.

 

 

Survival Skill #28
 

 

The type of shelter needed depends on the equipment, terrain, and climate.
 

 

Directly in front of me, Mo flips on his light with it glowing under his chin. “Boo!”

I clutch my chest, checking to see if my heart has stopped or fallen out. I hit him with both hands in the chest. “Geez! You’re lucky I didn’t flip you over my shoulder.”

“Come on. You knew it was me.”

“Doesn’t matter! Any time someone jumps out in the dark, it freaks you out.”

“Sorry.” He squeezes my hand. “Come on, my place is over here.”

I stumble behind him as his boots crunch through the dead leaves.

He stops me with both hands and holds me still. “Stay here.” I stand solo for a few seconds, watching the shadows move around me until a lantern offers a reassuring light. “Time to relax.” Mo motions for me to sit down as he pokes a long stick into a heap of charred twigs.
 

Minutes later, twirling flames illuminate the area. It takes a few moments for my eyes to adjust before I notice his man-made, lean-to shelter. A roof, made of leaves, nestled between two tall trees. Under the shelter, a piece of black tarp stretches along the ground. A rolled-up, army green sleeping bag and a wool blanket rest on the artificial floor.

He catches me staring. “Fancy what I’ve done with the place?”

“You have great taste. I’d say a little country mixed with a dash of rustic.”

He nods. “Spot on. That’s exactly what I was going for.”

I check out his sleeping quarters. “So no tent? This is where you stay—every night? Still seems a bit odd.”

“That coming from a girl who talks to a cranky bike named Luci.”

“Touché.” I can’t help but laugh, knowing he’s so right.

“Besides, I told you. I’m on field study for school.” Mo pours some water from his canteen into an iron pot and hangs it over the fire. “Cuppa tea?”

“Sure, but isn’t that a little formal for a fire pit?”

“Nothing but the best for you, blossom.”

A few minutes later, he pours the steaming liquid and hands me a stainless steel cup. I welcome the warmth between my hands. Even though it’s the end of summer, the nights are growing cooler and being damp doesn’t help. I shiver while sipping the hot liquid, the strong black tea trailing warmth through my body. Even though I’m more of hot cocoa kinda gal, the tea is surprisingly good.

Mo reaches into his duffle bag and pulls out a dry t-shirt.

I whine. “Hey, no fair! How come you get to be dry?”

“Bloody hell. Have some patience, woman.” Mo strips off his wet shirt without any notice. A thin layer of moisture glistens on his ripped body. I ignore my urge to jump him and force my jaw to stay shut. Don’t care who you are, gaping mouths are never sexy. I keep my eyes on him. If I look away now, it’ll be obvious I’m uncomfortable. He slips both arms in the holes, before popping his head through the middle.

Then he tosses me a different shirt.

I don’t move quickly enough to catch it so the shirt lands over my face. I frown under the cotton. After today, “graceless” will be my new middle name. I pluck the draping shirt off my head. “You could’ve warned me.”

“Sorry.” Mo pinches his lips together, stifling a laugh.

I smile, wondering if my face is as red as it feels. “Okay, maybe I’m not the most coordinated person.” For some reason, around this guy, my brain won’t send the right messages to the right place in time.

“Always? Or just with me.”

Is this guy a mind reader or what? “Don’t flatter yourself, mister.” I smell his woodsy scent and fight the urge to bury my nose in the shirt like a bloodhound. Just as I go to change, I stop, realizing he’s watching me. “Privacy, please.”

Mo snaps his fingers in jest and spins around. “Can’t blame a bloke for trying.”

I peel off my damp t-shirt and slip into his dry, comfy one. A scent of smoked wood lingers in the cotton. I steal a quick sniff and hug myself, feeling protected by the thin layer of fabric. I tie a knot at the waist and rip the hairband out of my matted ponytail. I tousle my damp, stringy hair. “It’s safe.”

When Mo sees me, his mouth drops open. My heart sinks. Nothing sexy about wearing dirty pants, an oversized shirt with a bulging knot, and wet, moppy hair. He exhales. “You look smashing.”

I wave him off. “Please, good thing it’s dark. Must be the shirt.”

He inches closer. “You look fabulous to me, shirt ...” He raises his eyebrows. “Or no shirt.” He grins at his remark and cups my face. I drop my head back, inviting him in for another kiss. I want so much to be close and connected to him again, even if it’s only for a few seconds.

Mo tilts his head to one side and kisses me. As his lips encircle mine, I hold the back of his neck tightly, forbidding even an inch of space to come between us. Don’t want to give him enough room to pull away. His warm tongue sweeps across mine, teasing me to play. Mo’s breathing quickens, and he wraps his fingers through my hair, tugging me closer. His heart pounds against my chest as our kiss intensifies.

A few seconds later, he steps back and composes himself.

I move closer. “What?”

“You hungry?”

Since he’s stolen my breath away, I can only nod.

Mo begins cooking. He seems so comfortable in the woods. Not many people can be.

Something dawns on me. Maybe I’ve finally found someone just like me.

After enjoying a juicy dinner of fish cooked in foil and more tea, he shows me some of the rock samples he’s collected. The night air makes me tired, and I yawn as he explains that granite is North Carolina’s state rock.

Mo chuckles. “There’s my clue to stop talking about rocks.”

I shake my head. “I think it’s North Carolina’s cue to pick a more exciting rock. I mean, granite? Honestly. What about rubies or diamonds?”

“If it makes you feel better, emerald is quite abundant here as well.” He massages my shoulders for a few seconds, causing me to yawn again. “Tired?”

“Relaxed.”

“Come here then.” He wraps a blanket around us. We cuddle as we stare up at the canopy of branches above us. Lightening bugs twinkle around us, like strands of blinking Christmas lights.

I nudge him with my elbow. “Thanks for the dinner. It was delish. You sure know your way around a fire.”

A crimson glow from the campfire illuminates the side of his face. “Anything for you.” Mo rolls onto his side, pulling me down with him, and gently plants little kisses all over my cheeks, throat, and nose, Little ripples swim along my arms. He teases my lips until I surrender. His tongue twirls through my mouth, searching for a dance partner.

Somewhere inside my head, I want to be consumed. To crawl inside Mo’s body and hide from my life. Like a yolk tucked safely inside an eggshell. Surrounded, protected.

Without warning, he moves back a fraction of an inch, hovering over my lips, tickling them with his breath. He searches my face for something. “I know this sounds strange, but I’m falling for you, Grace.”

How does he just throw that out there? No holding back. My heart pounds with excitement, fear, and disbelief all mixed in one. “It doesn’t sound crazy at all. I feel the same way.”

He traces one finger down my ribs, making me squirm. Then he puts a few inches of distance between us. “We should stop. Maybe it’s time to get you back.”

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