Chapter Twenty-Five

Post-Cruise Tour: Denali National Park

Our lips met in a gentle, testing touch that tasted of sugar and the scent of campfire smoke.

When I'd leaned toward him, I hadn't thought of anything beyond needing to feel his mouth on mine. After a second, his arms slid around my back, cradling me against him. He ducked his head so I could reach better, and my hands braced on his chest for balance as I perched on my toes.

Galaxies spun inside me, supernovas exploding behind my closed eyes. I was floating, soaring, through the vastness.

When we broke away, I was breathing hard. His face was open, stunned, blinking. His chest rose and fell as rapidly as mine. We stared at each other.

I had kissed Tanner Woods. And I had liked it.

In nine months of dating, kissing Caleb had never been like that. Never made me lose all track of where I was, melted my brain, turned my insides and my arms and legs to mush. Narrowed the universe to that single moment.

Caleb. I was supposed to want Caleb back. All my plans for the future, our safe routines and familiar patterns.

But right now my heart was beating Tanner, Tanner, Tanner.

My gaze dipped from his eyes, the same pewter as the river, to his mouth, as I considered doing it again.

He blinked and shifted backward, away from me.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I shouldn't have done that."

His words were a blast of glacier water to my brain Also, I was pretty sure I'd been the one to do it, or it had at least been mutual.

What I said was, "Right, yeah, of course, no worries."

No worries? Seriously? What was wrong with me?

I had been thinking wow, and not much else. But he might've had a point. With our history, this couldn't end well. We'd been overwhelmed by the beauty of our surroundings, or influenced by this week's forced proximity. Our families were too close. If we tried anything and it didn't work, things would be even weirder. There were so many reasons it was a bad idea.

But that kiss had been a compelling reason in favor, currently eclipsing everything else. Not to mention the whole evening, which had been one of the best and honestly the most romantic I'd ever had.

We walked to our rooms under a twilight sky in awkward silence. I would have gone ahead without him, except I didn't know if the grounds had bears, and I wasn't willing to risk encountering one on my own, no matter how weird this was.

We parted at our doors, glanced at each other and away. I had no idea what to say.

"Thanks for the s'mores lesson," he said. "And the career advice. I'm sure I'll have more for you to help me with soon, so get some rest."

Joking was his usual defense mechanism, but that didn't make it hurt any less that he didn't plan to acknowledge the kiss. I nodded, slipped inside my room, and gently closed the door.

The next day, we had a bus tour into Denali with our parents and several of their coworkers. Tanner was already on the bus when my parents and I boarded, sitting near the back by himself. My gaze found him like he was a magnet. Why did he look so good, in a blue shirt that hugged his muscles? Had he been awake as much as I had last night? Did he regret the kiss? Or did he regret apologizing for it?

I still hadn't decided which side of that line I fell on.

I would rather tie myself to the hood of the bus than sit next to him all day, but my parents took a seat together before I could join one of them.

Instead, I settled into the empty space next to Mrs. Woods and asked if she was enjoying the trip. We chatted until Mr. Woods boarded and smiled at me. Waiting for me to get up.

Fine. I could take a hint.

Next, I tried stopping at Mr. Ramirez's seat and channeling Tanner's charm. "Thanks again, sir, for the trip and booking these amazing tours. What made you decide on Alaska instead of a beach?"

"I've always wanted to see Alaska, which was part of it, but we also took an office poll." He did not, as I had hoped, invite me to join him.

"Oh, that's nice." His wife was now coming down the aisle. "Enjoy the day."

I moved on again and took a seat by myself, two rows in front of Tanner, who was staring out the window at the parking lot. If he'd seen my mega-awkward attempts to be friendly, he wasn't letting on.

The bus was filling up, and one of Mom's coworkers and his wife stopped next to me.

"Hello, Savannah. Would you mind terribly if we sat together?"

I forced a smile. "Of course."

I stood yet again. The only empty seat was next to Tanner. Mom's coworkers were all traitors.

Silently, I perched on the edge of the bench. Tanner was slightly turned so his legs would fit, and he shifted, trying to cram them into the small space and avoid touching me.

Whatever. I would show him that last night's kiss—and his subsequent rejection—hadn't affected me in the slightest. Hide the fact that I'd been awake all night reliving it, and my ridiculous brain had been wondering if a relationship with him was such a terrible idea, arguing with the more logical half that said I should pretend it had never happened and never speak of it again, like Frodo and the ring.

Except, that didn't work out so well for Frodo. I was probably setting myself up to get chased by undead dudes in black riding on grizzly bears.

Tanner was uncharacteristically quiet, and his long legs were now bent at an odd angle.

"Do you, um, want the aisle?" I asked.

He looked at me, serious and steady. "Sure. Thanks."

I let him out, then slid in toward the window.

"Window hog," he said as he sat again, stretching his legs into the walkway, and his voice almost sounded normal.

Okay then. I could pretend last night never happened if he could.

Except this vehicle was more regular school bus than fancy coach, and we could barely breathe without causing our knees to knock or our arms to brush. Every contact sent lightning through me. Cars were safe in thunderstorms, but what happened when the lightning was on the inside? I might make the vehicle combust if Tanner's shoulder grazed mine one more time.

I tried to make myself small against the window, but Tanner kept peering at the view, and I didn't want to let on that his nearness was affecting me, so I let him lean against me to watch as the bus left the safety of the highway and drove into the heart of the park.

"Sorry, is this okay?" he asked. "There's lots to see."

"Yeah, fine." My voice sounded too high. "I'm happy to switch anytime you want."

"Nah, I'm good, if you are."

"Great."

We fell silent. The crowded bus was a good excuse not to talk.

The vehicle seemed safe enough, but I hoped we weren't traveling off road and it wasn't going to break down and strand us in the middle of nowhere. I should have brought more food and water. Bear spray. Maybe gas, and spare car parts. A flare gun and a satellite phone.

The greens were rich on the endless hills, and we crossed several small rivers. A guide came on the speakers to tell us about Denali—six million acres, one-third of which was total, untouched wilderness. This was the only road in the entire park.

A ball of nerves formed in my stomach at the idea that there was so much wildness. No people, no buildings, no refuge from storms or cold or wild animals. I knew parks like this were good. The planet needed them, and preserving species was important. I didn't want to see it paved or developed.

I just preferred not to visit the wild places unless they had nice hotels. Or any hotels, even if they weren't so nice. Or just a permanent structure that a moose couldn't trample while I slept.

"I see why it's called the last frontier," Tanner said. "You should love that. It's like space."

I glanced at him. Were we doing the pretending now? "That's the final frontier. And I like it because I know I'll never go there."

"You could."

"I prefer to admire it from Earth."

The guide said that park rangers used dogsleds to do their jobs in the winter when the roads were too snow-covered for vehicles.

"Awesome," Tanner said.

"Sounds cold."

"Sounds hard-core."

"Until you freeze to death and your dogs eat you. Or vice versa. I'm not sure which would be worse."

We drove on through endless hills. Sometimes the road was enclosed by mountains and I'd forget how huge the place was, and then the view would open up and I could see into the distance that it kept going forever. A moose watched us from the trees. The guide pointed out sheep on a mountain. Without binoculars, I didn't see much more than white blobs.

Our first bear sighting was far up a hillside, a lone animal nosing around in the grass. A closer-up image appeared on screens throughout the bus from cameras mounted atop the vehicle. It was grayish brown, with a hump on its back.

Grizzly.

I swallowed hard.

The guide gave us grizzly bear facts. I could have gone my whole life without knowing they could stand up to eight feet tall, had a better sense of smell than a hound dog, and could eat ninety pounds of food a day.

"You don't have to be faster than the bear," Mr. Woods said. "Just faster than the guy next to you."

I was fast, so at least there was that.

"That's a common misconception," said the guide. "If you run, the bears see you as prey and they're more likely to chase you."

So much for my advantage.

At our first stop, a short trail led up a hill, with views of mountains covered in patches of green, yellow, red, and orange. A shallow river wound through the valley. The air was cool and damp.

I could see for miles, which in a way was nice. No bears would be sneaking up on me.

"I'll guard your back," Tanner said.

"What?"

"You were totally watching for bears."

"I was not. I was admiring the natural beauty. Where bears might happen to live."

He let out a soft chuckle, and I shivered.

I gazed at the view for a while before glancing at him, to find him just looking away. When it happened again, a tingle shot through me.

A soft cry came from nearby. I whirled to see a boy sitting on the ground, holding his ankle. Tanner ran over and was the first by his side.

He kneeled next to the kid. "What happened?"

"I tripped."

The parents raced toward them from farther down the trail as Tanner checked the boy's ankle.

"It's probably a sprain, but you don't want to walk on it until you know for sure," Tanner said.

The dad bent to pick up the boy but grunted and clutched his back, leaving the boy on the ground.

"May I?" Tanner asked, then when they agreed, added, "Do you guys have a car?"

They pointed to an RV parked near our bus.

Tanner scooped the boy up easily. I trailed behind them on the path to the parking area as Tanner carried him like he weighed nothing. The calm, confident way he'd taken charge was impressive. And more than a little attractive.

Tanner asked the kid about his Batman shirt and whether he'd seen a bear yet and his favorite candy, and it was all very adorable.

After he settled the boy inside, the dad shook his hand, and the mom hugged him.

"Thank you for your help."

"He only darted away for a second. I'm glad you were there."

"It was nothing," Tanner said. "Glad I was around. Enjoy your trip."

They entered the RV, and we turned to find our parents watching. Mr. and Mrs. Woods were studying Tanner with puzzled expressions, like they didn't recognize their own son.

He was proving he'd be good with a gym full of kids, capable of handling emergencies. Even though I could take no credit for his charm or his skills or him being pretty incredible, I was proud.