Page 15 of Uncharted Desires
“I ended things with her.”
“You two are always ending things.”
“No, she’s always ending things,” he amended, as he stepped over a large fallen tree. Kat’s short legs had a much harder time, and he turned to help her over.
The trees were tall and wide, with thick canopies that blocked out the sun. Monkeys chattered in the branches above as birds circled overhead. But not a trace of humanity anywhere. Despite the surrounding beauty, she felt a chill run down her spine as she wondered what lurked unseen beyond the bush. She felt ill at ease within the wide expanse of the unknown, even if she was slightly enjoying the peaceful sounds around her.
“Why take her back then?” she asked, her movements stopped as his blue gaze left her momentarily stunned. He grabbed her hand, and, before she could protest, lifted her over the tree.
“That’s how she was, and for a while, I was fine with it. She’d get mad about something stupid, break up with me, go out with some young rising star, and post it all over social media. I’d apologize in some grand fashion, and she’d be back.”
He was still holding her hand. She had known one side of West—the spoiled, standoffish, and selfish side—but she was seeing there was more, and that was bad, bad, bad.
His heat wrapped around her, and even after a night spent floating in the ocean, she could still smell his soap: crisp sage, pine, and something unique to only him.
He released her, and she walked ahead of him. “That sounds like an awful relationship.” She forced herself to ignore how good he smelled.
“I realized it was, and I ended it officially when we were in Paris. That’s why you haven’t seen anything posted. She doesn’t want anyone to know. She keeps trying to get me back, but I guess at some point you discover you want more for yourself.” His hand reached out, pulling her back. “Let me go first.”
“Why? I’m perfectly capable of going first,” she said, crossing her arms. “I can find water, climb over logs, swim. And shocker—this little woman can move tree leaves just as good as you.” She knew she sounded childish, but she needed distance between them. She didn’t want sweet, nice West—the West she had worked with their first year together. The West that had made her believe in silly things, like rich rock stars could actually be nice guys. That might ruin her when this was all over.
West’s eyes were smiling on his ridiculously tanned, handsome face, and for a moment, she forgot why they were even arguing.
“What?” she said exasperated. “Are you laughing at me?”
“No,” he said, a slight chuckle in his voice. “It’s just, right now, in this situation, you’re so cute. And I know that’s going to make you mad, but Kat, you don’t have to be strong. We are lost on an island, dehydrated, hungry, tired. I have no shoes, my feet hurt like hell, and from what I can tell, this island is uninhabited. I’m not sure how we’re getting out of here, so please let me be just a little bit helpful to you. Why struggle to get over the log when you can have help?”
He had voiced the fears she hadn’t wanted to think about. The thoughts that she had pushed to the back of her mind. She had compartmentalized their problems into survival mode. First had been finding land. They had done that. She hadn’t gotten to the “get off the island” or “get home” part of the plan yet.
“One step at a time, West. Water first,” she said, willing the tears to stay back. How could he see right into her soul like that? He didn’t even know her. She didn’t need his permission to not be strong, and she wasn’t about to crumple because big strong West was going to save the day. If she wanted to struggle over the log, then she’d fucking struggle to get over the log.
In what felt like hours of walking, they both had fallen silent, West’s body aching for water and rest. He could only imagine how Kat felt. He saw a bead of sweat glide down her neck, and his imagination ran wild. What would she taste like there? How would she react if his tongue took the same path?
“You know this is all your fault,” she grumbled, gesturing for him to walk ahead of her as they closed in on a large tree, shaking him from his thoughts.
“Didn’t we just have this conversation? I’m pretty sure you could have found help, but fine. I’ll bite. You shouldn’t have tried to save my sorry ass at all. You should have just let me fall in.”
“Probably.” She shrugged. “In the immortal words of the esteemed Alanis, ‘you live, you learn.’”
“Ah yes, now there’s an album I had on constant rotation in my childhood.” His tone was laced with sarcasm.
“I’m sure Jagged Little Pill was at the top of your list,“ Kat laughed, and West wanted to make her do it again, the sultry sound flowing through his entire nervous system, making him feel all his nerve endings. He didn’t think he’d ever seen her so relaxed around him.
He turned around with his hand over his heart as if she had wounded him. “I have absolutely nothing against female empowerment rock anthems. I write love songs and praise everything about women, for Christ’s sake. I love women.”
She made a face as if to say yeah, right.
“So, what made you give a big fuck you to your old man’s music? I mean, he can’t love your choice of genre.”
West’s jaw clenched, trying not to let her see she’d hit a nerve. The subject of West and his father was a contentious one, one he didn’t want to talk about. It hadn’t been easy growing up in the shadow of one of the ’80s biggest rock stars.
“He’s not exactly proud,” he said. “But I didn’t quit music completely and become a fireman or something normal, so he deals with my ‘girly’ rock, as he calls it.”
“I think you would make a great fireman. Is that want you wanted to be?”
West thought about it for a minute. No one had really asked him what he wanted to be. Everyone had just assumed he wanted to be a musician. “For the longest time, I thought about every job I would do that wasn’t being a musician. I wanted to be a pilot the most.”
“So, what changed?” she asked. “You obviously became a musician, and I personally think you enjoy it.”