Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

L ila

The first rays of dawn push through the thin line of trees below, casting a soft glow over the rocky ledge. My breath catches as I open my eyes, reality hitting like a punch. The air is cold against my skin, but the warmth of Holt's body at my back makes me hesitate before I shift. His arm is heavy across my waist, his breathing steady, deep, like he has no regrets about the night we spent tangled together beneath the stars.

For a moment, I let myself sink into the comfort of it. I close my eyes again, inhaling the earthy scent of him, mixed with pine and the crisp morning air. His chest rises and falls against me, and I try to memorize the feel of it, like it's something I can hold onto. But then, the doubts creep in, cold and relentless.

Emails. Deadlines. The carefully curated world I built online. A life where everything makes sense, where every post has a purpose, and where there's no room for messy entanglements like this.

I edge out from under his arm, moving slowly to avoid waking him. The chill hits immediately, a reminder of the real world outside the warmth of his embrace. I pull my knees to my chest, wrapping my arms around them as I stare out at the stretch of mountains, the mist curling between the peaks. My thoughts race, tangled like the knots in the ropes we used to climb up here, and I can't shake the sense that I'm about to unravel everything I've worked for.

A rustle behind me, and then Holt's low, sleep-rough voice cuts through the silence. "Running off already, princess?"

My spine stiffens, and I take a moment before glancing back at him. His hair is tousled, his lips curled into that cocky half-smile, but there's an edge to his gaze that wasn't there last night. I press my lips together, forcing down the flood of emotions his voice stirs. "I'm just thinking."

He sits up, his eyes narrowing as he watches me. "Thinking about what?" He moves closer, each step a reminder of how easily he fills up space, how he's always challenging me to take up my own. "About last night? Or about how fast you're going to run back to your perfect little city life?"

His tone is sharp, but I hear the question buried beneath the sarcasm, the edge of uncertainty in his words. I force myself to look at him, to meet those intense blue eyes. "I need to think about what I'm doing here," I say, my voice barely more than a whisper, but it gains strength as I keep talking. "About what happens next."

His expression hardens, and he steps even closer, his shadow falling over me as the sun rises behind him. "Is that what this was to you?" he snaps, each word cutting deeper than I want to admit. "Just a ‘few nights in the mountains'? Jesus, Lila, I thought you were different."

Anger flares, hot and raw, driving me to my feet. I spin to face him, my cheeks burning. "You don't know anything about me, Holt!" I snap, my voice ringing out across the empty ledge. "Not everyone can afford to live like you, without any plan, without thinking about the consequences. Some of us have responsibilities. I can't just... abandon everything and hope for the best."

He crosses his arms, the movement making his muscles flex under his shirt, but his expression is as hard as granite. "Or maybe you're just scared, Lila," he counters, stepping so close I can see the fire in his eyes. "Scared of wanting something that doesn't fit neatly into your little plan. What are you really afraid of? That you might actually be happy here? That this might be real?"

The words strike like a blow, knocking the breath from my lungs. My hands curl into fists at my sides, and I feel a crack open inside me, raw and painful. But I can't let him see it. I lift my chin, throwing every ounce of defiance I have into my glare. "I'm not afraid, Holt. I'm just being realistic. Not everyone can live in a fantasy world where all that matters is the next thrill."

The bitterness in my voice hangs between us, colder than the mountain air. He flinches, just barely, but I see it. And I hate that I care. I turn away, wrapping my arms around myself as if that can hold me together. "I have a career back in the city," I continue, my voice quieter now, more like a plea than an argument. "I've worked so hard to build something, and I can't just... throw it all away."

He lets out a rough laugh, the sound cutting through the early morning stillness. "Fine. Be realistic, Lila. But don't pretend that's all this is. You felt it last night as much as I did. And you're running because it's easier than facing it." His hands flex at his sides like he's fighting the urge to reach for me, but he doesn't. He just stands there, a storm brewing behind his eyes, the same way one rumbles through the mountains before it breaks.

His words pierce deeper than I want them to, but I force myself to keep my back straight, to keep my voice steady even as my throat tightens.

"I–I don't know what to say, Holt." The words slip out, barely loud enough for him to hear, but I feel their weight settle between us.

For a moment, I think he might grab my arm, might pull me back into the mess of us, but he just stands there, his jaw clenched, his shoulders rigid. I gather my things quickly, stuffing my sleeping bag into my pack, my fingers trembling with the effort of keeping my composure. Each motion feels like a goodbye, like closing the door on something I don't quite understand but know I can't afford to want.

I don't look back as I start down the trail, even though every step away from him feels like it's tearing something inside me. The path is steep, rough beneath my boots, and I focus on the sound of my footsteps, letting it drown out the thoughts swirling in my head.

But as the distance grows between us, I can't shut out the memory of his touch, the way he looked at me last night like I was the only thing that mattered. And I can't escape the gnawing ache in my chest that tells me I've left more than just a night under the stars behind on that ledge.