I blinked at him, trying to organize my thoughts. “In a million years, I never imagined you saying that. You hate my dad.”
“I hate that he hated me, and then I went and gave him a damn good reason to.” He shrugged. “When we get back to L.A., I’m going to grovel, and I’m really not looking forward to it, but I’m honestly just hoping that I’ve at least won you over by that point—”
“What?” I asked a little too loudly. Dr. Messina shushed me from her seat across the hut.
“—because I can’t fight a war on two fronts. What do you mean, what?”
“When we get back to L.A.?” I asked. “You mean…you’ve thought about that?” About what would happen once you actually caught me.
“Well, yeah. We’re not going to be on this ship forever, right? Unless you have some lifelong plans that I’m not aware of?”
He’d thought about more than the chase, the pursuit. He’d looked ahead to when real life was going to hit us again. God, I hated the damn cameras, because I wanted to kiss him, to show him what I couldn’t find the words to say. Instead I leaned my forehead against his shoulder and breathed in, knowing he’d just knocked loose one of the last bricks in my defense against him.
He pressed his lips to my hair and rested there for a second.
It wasn’t enough for a moment like this, and yet it meant everything.
I don’t know how long we sat there, but the next thing I heard were the chants of the incoming Dani men. As they entered the hut, in ceremonial clothing and faces painted with bright colors, I lifted my head and reveled in the beauty of a different culture.
“Amazing to think they’ve never met before,” Landon whispered as the women entered, their faces painted with the same bright colors. I knew from class that they only married outside their own villages, but that both parties had to consent before the matchmaker would agree to their union.
I looped my arm through Landon’s and drew my knees tighter to my chest to give the men room to circulate. They chanted and sang what I knew were tribal songs about marriage, rotating between the women in their official ritual of courtship. Around and around they moved, the excitement palpable in the air as one by one, they sat next to the woman they intended to court.
“Imagine that,” I whispered. “No dating, just finding your person and saying yes to the rest of your life.”
Finally they were all seated, cross-legged, hands intertwined as they sang.
“That’s a huge decision for a split-second meeting,” he noted.
“Not as much for the men,” I added. “They can take more than one wife, but the women can’t.” I looked over and watched him as he studied the ceremony. “Would you want that? More than one wife?”
He looked down at me, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “I can barely keep up trying to chase you. So that’s a no.”
Softly laughing, I looked back to the men and women who sat next to the person they would marry. The hope in their eyes was enough to overflow into me.
“But I would have sat next to you,” Landon whispered into my ear. “I would have fought off any man who thought he was a better fit and paid whatever price your father demanded, and then some.”
Chills raced over my skin, prickling and warming me all in the same breath.
“No price would have been high enough, no challenge big enough. But I would have won.”
“So sure of yourself?” I asked, just loud enough for him to hear me over the singing.
“Yeah. I am. Because I know you would have fought for me, too.”
My chest filled with the sweetest pressure, and I pushed it down, knowing exactly where it led—knowing that I wasn’t ready. “In an alternate timeline,” I said, remembering our earlier conversation.
He tipped my chin up but didn’t kiss me, simply looked deeply into my eyes until I was sure that I would melt into his. “In every timeline.”
I looked away when I couldn’t take it anymore, when the force of our connection threatened to override my common sense.
His words stayed with me long after the ceremony, and I couldn’t help but realize that we’d sat there in the same position as the newly intendeds—arms intertwined, ankles crossed.
In every timeline, indeed.
“It’s like you’re twelve and back at Camp Sunnyville,” I muttered to myself as I walked down the path of bungalows our class had taken over for the night. Of course Camp Sunnyville hadn’t been in the middle of a rain forest or had its accompanying humidity.
Between the ceremony and the hike back to our residence, it had to be at least midnight. If we were in the States, I would have texted Landon. Or Facebooked him. Hell, Twitter might have been an option.
The minute my temporary roommate’s boyfriend showed up in our little thatched cabin, I got the hell out of there. No chance I wanted to hear whatever was going to happen on the other side of our room.
I wasn’t even that close with Leah, nor did I ever want to be.
With the full moon above me, all the bungalows looked the same. Crap. Which one was he in?
“Rachel?”
I spun in the darkness toward Hugo’s figure. “Hey. What are you doing out here?”
“I could ask you the same.” He laughed.
“I’m looking for Landon’s room. My roommate needed to put a sock on the door handle.”
“Ah,” he said with a deep head nod. “I understand. I’d say that you’re welcome to come back to my room, but I have a feeling you’re not just looking for an escape.”
“Yeah…” I sighed. “Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize. You two have some weird magnetic pull that I’m not stupid enough to get between. I have a feeling whoever does gets crushed.”
Like Wilder.
“Yeah, we’re…us,” I said, failing to find a better word.
He laughed. “You and Leah and those Renegades. I think he’s in the last one on the right. I remember him being alone, too.”
“Thank you!”
“Want me to walk you down?”
“No worries, but thank you for offering.”
“Okay, but I’ll wait here until you get inside.”
With a wave, I was off. I tightened my hands on the straps of my day pack and walked the distance to Landon’s bungalow.
As I walked up the steps, I turned to see Hugo watching, and I waved in thanks.
A soft light shone from under the door, and I paused, my hand raised to knock. What was I doing here? Other than avoiding the sexcapade in my own room? Maybe I was looking for the same thing. I rested my forehead against the smooth wood of the doorframe and took a deep breath.
I’d already let him get so close. Despite my best intentions, he was right there, close enough to my heart to break it again, and I was a breath away from surrendering everything to him. But Landon had always been about the chase, and that’s still where we were—he was still chasing me. What happened if he caught me?
You won’t be so bright and shiny, and he’ll move on.
The thought rocked me, because the more time I spent with him, the more I knew I didn’t want him to move on.
But how much worse would it be in a few weeks? Months? Wasn’t it better to get the breaking done now, when I was only losing the possibility of Landon?