Chapter Twenty-Five
Amelia
When we got to the room, I immediately plugged in my phone to charge. Rory hadn’t said a word since the lobby, but he had followed me to the room, so I guessed the lure of a warm bed outweighed his fear that I would throw myself at him again.
I had never felt so humiliated in my life, and it was my own fault. What was I thinking, starting an argument like that in a public place? When Rory had left the bunkhouse and I’d returned to the counter to retrieve my pack, the other people milling around in the lobby had blatantly stared. I’d thrown them my best New York glare and hefted my backpack, slinging my arms through the straps.
Mrs. Anderson had looked at me sympathetically. When I’d thanked her for her help, she’d smiled kindly. “Of course, dearie. Just go to the front desk at the hotel. They’re expecting you.” She’d hesitated for a moment, then added in a low voice, “For what it’s worth, I think you’re wrong about young Rory.”
I was pretty sure she was right. Rory’s response to me in the tent had been pretty damn real. The question was, why was he fighting it? I needed to think—but first I needed to get clean.
I turned to him. He looked disturbed, miserable. Well, that made two of us. “Do you mind if I shower first?”
He shook his head. “Of course not. I’ll go to the bar and give you your privacy. But we need to talk about something.”
“Don’t worry, I won’t assault you in your sleep.”
He sighed. “That’s not what I was going to say. Look, today was really hard for you, and it’s likely to be worse as we go on, especially if the rain continues. I think you should consider stopping here in Sligachan. It’ll be easy enough for us to get a ride from here.”
I was shaking my head before he even finished the sentence. “No. I’m not quitting.”
“Amelia, please. If you keep pushing your knee, you could do permanent damage to it. If you quit now and take care of yourself, you can come back another time and do the trail.”
He was right—I knew he was right. But I couldn’t quit now. “I can’t. I need to do it now. I know you must think I’m ridiculous, but I just…I’m so afraid that if I don’t finish the hike, Carrie will never wake up.”
I sank down on the edge of the chair, utterly drained from the fight in the lobby and now this.
Rory knelt before me. “I don’t think you’re ridiculous. Determined, brave, and stubborn as hell, but not ridiculous. Never that.”
I forced myself to look away from those eyes, like bottomless pools of seawater after the rain. He spoke so sincerely, but all the pretty words in the world didn’t matter if he was refusing to help me. I had to finish. If he backed out on me now, I’d have to find someone else to guide me. It wouldn’t be the same, but I couldn’t let him derail me. Maybe Mrs. Anderson would know of someone that I could hire.
He laid his hand on top of mine. “Look, I promised I’d help you, and I won’t go back on my word.”
I snapped my gaze back to his, hope rising within me. “Really?”
His lips curved. “Especially since you’ll just do it anyway.” I felt my face grow warm. Was I that transparent? “At least this way I won’t have to worry about you hiring some feckless jackass to help you finish. But I had to ask.”
I nodded. “I appreciate you looking out for me.” Even if he was the most frustrating man on the entire island, and likely the entire country.
He got to his feet. “Do you need help with anything before I go?”
I wondered what he’d say if I asked him to help me get undressed. He’d probably do it out of obligation, but I didn’t want that. If he undressed me again, I wanted it to be because we were about to give in to the attraction between us. “No. I’ve got it. Thanks.”
“Look, I’m sorry about before—”
“I really need that hot shower, Rory,” I said, not wanting his apologies. If he couldn’t admit to himself that he wanted me, then there was nothing to say.
He just nodded and left the room.