Franey Trail in the Cape Breton Highlands National Park has always been a favourite of mine. Despite its incredibly steep and rugged trail, the view is a reward worth sweating for.

After an hour and a half of climbing, sweating, feeling my muscles burn, and venturing off the trail to find the geocaches we came to locate, Nova and I are sitting at the top on the large, flat rocks, enjoying the panoramic view of Clyburn Brook Canyon. Franey Mountain's rock face stands out like a sore thumb and the river through the valley creates a winding, defined line through the greenness. It's a clear day, so we can also see the Atlantic Ocean, from Cape Smokey to Ingonish.

"This is so beautiful," Nova breathes as she takes in the view.

All I can do is nod in agreement, Sure, Vancouver has its beautiful moments, but there's nothing as breathtaking as Nova Scotia. No matter where you look, it can always catch you off-guard.

Shrugging off the backpack, I kneel down and unzip it, removing the items we packed: two water bottles, a container of green grapes, and two sandwiches that we picked up at a local deli before driving out here.

Nova sits down beside me, our legs dangling off the edge.

"So," I say, handing her the vegetarian sandwich she ordered. "You like?"

"More like love," she replies, gazing at the view. "It's stunning. How did you know about it?"

I bite back the smartass comment about how I lived here for a while. "East and I used to do a lot of hiking during the summer. He actually hated this hike because of how steep it is. The guy always used to say it hurt his knees or some bullshit like that. In fact, he hated it so much that once a year was his limit."

Nova laughs. "Sounds like East."

I look down at the sandwich in my hands, smiling to myself. This feels good. It feels like we're getting along better than ever. Although I still feel a little shitty from yesterday, I push past it. I don't know much about Nova's past romances, but maybe she had a rough relationship with a guy and doesn't want to step back into the dating world too quickly. If that's the case, then I respect her decision.

Suffice to say, I've basically erased what happened yesterday and replaced it with what I woke up to this morning.

As soon as I opened my eyes, I knew something was different. The smell of lemons and vanilla was potent and I could feel her hot breath on my skin. I was shocked to find that the usual barrier of pillows wasn't separating us and that her cheek was pressed against my shoulder.

And I will admit, I laid there for a good five minutes, enjoying how close she was before I got out of bed and headed downstairs. The whole way down, I thought about how a situation like that has to count for something. Anything.

Surely some part of her can sense this – the chemistry between us.

"Warren?"

I shake away my thoughts. Obsessing over what she can and can't see isn't going to help me. If I'm going to find a way to break down the walls, I need to gain her trust.

"Yeah?" I ask.

"Thank you for..." She lifts her hands, palms up, in a helpless gesture.

While my heart aches a little for her, I still have to suppress a laugh. She's thanking me for bringing her here? Does she forget the day I proposed this insane idea?

"I know you probably don't understand what I mean by that," she continues. "You probably think I'm crazy for thanking you for dragging me into this. I just...I don't regret agreeing. I hope that makes sense."

Again, my heart aches for her. She doesn't know how to express her emotions in words. I want to know, so badly, what happened before she moved the Vancouver. I want to know why she acts as she does.

Earn her trust.

"You don't have to say a word," I say. "I totally understand."

A small smile spreads across her lips as she gazes at the view. "I wish my family could see this. And Carter – he would have loved this."

My ears perk up. Who is Carter? A friend? Her long-distance boyfriend that she never told me about? The options are endless.

"Who's Carter?" I ask before I can stop myself.

She looks at me with bewildered eyes, as if she never meant for me to hear those words.

"He...I...Shit."

My eyes widen. Nova Elliot swearing in front of me? This is something new.

While I want to press her for information, I bite my tongue. She's turned back to the valley, but her body is still angled my way. I have enough common sense to know she wants to tell me something, she's just having a hard time figuring out how to do so. It's Body Language 101. Simple as that.

"Nova," I say softly, resting a hand on her shoulder. "You know you can tell me. Seriously – I'm all ears."

She shakes her head, still refusing to look at me.

Okay, then.

I turn my attention to my sandwich and take a bite. If I don't find something else to do with my mouth, I'm going to end up saying something that will get my ass kicked.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see her look at me. There's a puzzled look on her face, one that makes me want to reach over and hold her hand in comfort. I tighten my grip on the sandwich, vaguely aware that the juice from the tomatoes is now running down my forearm.

I hate this, not being in control. Girls that have crossed my path have never been this complicated. And now Nova's got me spinning out of control.

"Carter," Nova starts, picking at her chipped nail polish. "Was a good friend of mine back in Alberta. We'd known each other since we were kids, and then, as we got older, we grew apart. After high school, we went our separate ways. He broke my heart."

I set the sandwich down. "What happened?"

"You know how it goes, Warren. You have that one best friend that you think is going to last until the day you die, and then you just grow apart. The ordinary, daily calls turn into months and then years. It always happens." She shrugs, but the look on her face tells me there's more to this story.

If she thinks she can bullshit her way through something like this, she's wrong. While I'm not a big fan of emotions because they tend to get the best of me, I'm good at reading them. There's something about the way she's acting that makes me think she wants to tell me, but doesn't know how to.

"You wanna know what I think?" I ask, leaning back. I cross my legs at the ankles and tilt my head to her.

"What?" she asks.

"I think you're telling me a variation of the truth. I think you want to tell me what happened, but you're too scared to."

"I'm not weak," she frowns.

"I never said you were," I shrug. "I think you're as strong as you are beautiful, Nova. But what you told me is definitely not the same story you told my sister. And if it was really bad enough to make her cry, then it must haunt you in ways people can't comprehend. Whatever happened is what makes you think twice about opening up to a person; makes the urge to push them away stronger; makes you reject the idea of being in a relationship with another man."

She sighs and slowly nods. "Look at that," she says sadly. "It seems as though Warren Ashford has me all figured out."

"Not even close," I say. Although it spikes my adrenaline, knowing I'm on the right track with the mystery, I know I still have more information to extract. "Not even close because I'm only guessing. You can never truly understand someone until they tell you the story. Otherwise, you're inferring. Besides, this conversation is going to end up just like the last one – you're going to tell me that you're not ready, and then remind me that you promised Hazel that, one day, you would tell me everything."

Nova glares at me, and I have to fight a grin. I'm right.

"So," I continue, reaching back to grab her a water bottle. "Let's push this aside and not let it ruin the day. Tell me what your favourite part of the trip has been so far – aside from spooning with me every night."

Just like that, Nova's features instantly brighten. Not to their full potential, but close enough that I'm happy with the results. I watch as she thinks back on everything we've done. I watch the way she chews on her bottom lip and twirls a strand of hair around her finger. Both are characteristics that I used to hate but now find to be adorable.

"Well," she says, "I'd have to choose today. This trail, the view – everything is stunning. I like all the burning muscles and sweat paid off. I love the nature side of Nova Scotia, but I would like to see a little more of the city. Maybe check out where Greyson and Hazel met. Go to a mall. I like looking at the architecture and stuff, seeing the differences between what living is like here compared to B.C. or Alberta."

I begin to contemplate what we could do. Considering the fact that the drive here, to Cape Breton Highlands National Park, was a little over four hours, there's no chance we'll be able to make it back before everything's closed. "Why don't we do that tomorrow?" I ask. "I know a really good pub we could go to for dinner. East and Julia could join us."

"That would be a great idea," she smiles.

Though she smiles when she says this, I can see the faint haunted look in her eyes. The very fact that she has the ability to hide her past behind a smile alarms me. People hide their pasts from one another for a reason. A reason that seems good at the beginning, but usually ends with heart-wrenching consequences.

I've decided I don't want things to end badly between us. When all this is over, if there's some possible way, I want us to at least be friends. I want to be more than friends, but I can tighten the restraints if need be. I don't want her to walk out of my life and never be seen again.

It goes against everything I originally thought, and I hate my mind for establishing a contradiction. I should leave her alone. I should walk away when we get back to Vancouver. But I can't.

Nova looks at me with those dark brown, expressive eyes. Deep beneath the haunted look, I see a smouldering look, like the heat of embers before the flame ignites. Her eyes flick down to my lips for a fraction of a second before she turns back to the view. Images of yesterday replay in my mind, and the confusion and self-disgust return in full swing.

It's at this moment that I wonder if she knows she has the ability to break someone else's heart.

I sure as hell deserve to have my heart broken by a girl, considering how many times I've had sex with them and then tossed them to the curb.

I just never thought it would hurt so much.

* * *

The day ends on a happy note.

After taking our time completing the 7.5-kilometre loop and finding numerous geocaches along the way, Nova and I climb into the vehicle and begin our four-hour drive home.

Our conversation and any negative feelings were soon forgotten, but I guess that's what happens when you're so focused on finding plastic boxes of junk. We found twenty-five geocaches, all varying in sizes.

Halfway home, Nova fell asleep in the passenger seat, and she's been asleep ever since then. So, as soon as I pull into the driveway and shift into park, I go right ahead and unbuckle her. I then pull her into my arms and carry her up to the house as she sleeps.

It's almost ten, and the house is still wide-awake. Voices, all of which I'm able to decipher easily, echo down the hallway. I decide that I should probably let everyone know we made it back safe and sound before I take Nova upstairs.

The kitchen lights nearly blind me. On the countertops are empty bottles of beer, boxes of pizza, and bridal magazines. Surrounding the mess is the main group: Easton, Julia, Hazel, Greyson, and my parents.

Mom is the first one to notice me and an unconscious Nova. She smiles and gives me a nod as if to say, Thanks for letting me know. Hope you had a good day.

I smile back and then look at Hazel. She gives me a thumbs-up and it takes everything in me to not roll my eyes. Sometimes I hate that Hazel and I can talk to each other with simple facial expressions. The thumbs-up was totally to say I'm making good process.

"Hey, Warren!" East slurs.

I look at the drink in his hand. "Dude. You can't save it for the wedding?" I joke.

"Party for the rest of my life, man," he grins.

I grin back, shaking my head. I'm suddenly not tired from today's hike anymore, so I tell everyone I'll be down later; that I need to put Nova to bed before she wakes up and murders me for carrying her as I am.

After I've laid Nova down and tucked her in, I clean myself up a bit and then head back downstairs.

Hazel is the first one to speak: "So, how was everything?"

A plan quickly weaves through my mind and I pull my sister to the side, careful not to bump her glass of wine. This moment is the perfect time to try and get the truth out of her. I know some vital pieces of information and my sister is slightly drunk.

"Nova told me about Carter," I say, putting on my best sad face. If I want to gain more knowledge, I need to play the part.

It's like my sister instantly sobers up. A painful look crosses her face for a moment before she frowns. "What exactly did she tell you?"

I repeat what Nova said, all while making it sound as sad as possible. Maybe, if I pull the right strings, she'll reveal what I want to know.

Hazel stares at me through my whole dialogue. Right up until the end, when she looks up at the ceiling. "What's his last name?" she finally asks.

The question is so abrupt that I blink. "What?"

"What's Carter's last name?"

Shit. I never thought about that.

When I don't reply, Hazel laughs. She gently pats me on the shoulder. "Oh, Warren. When are you going to learn that sisters can always tell when their little brother is attempting to trick them?"

I roll my eyes. Damn her. How could I expect my sister to be drunk? She's never gotten drunk a day in her life. One glass of whatever poison she's chosen for the night has always been her limit – even when she was a reckless teenager. She would never break a promise she's made.

"Look at it this way, little brother," she smiles, wrapping an arm around my shoulders and guiding me back to the kitchen. "You've made progress. I can see it in the way she acts around you. She enjoyed that kiss at the dress store, by the way. I could tell."

"Okay, Haze," I say, feeling my cheeks heat up. "That's enough. I only kissed her because that jackass, Ian, wouldn't get off her back. It was nothing."

"Okay, Warren," she replies in a mocking tone. "I may be the faintest bit intoxicated, but I know for a fact that my memories are intact. She enjoyed that kiss more than you did."

I shake my head. "Whatever you say, Haze."

"Big sisters are always right," she smiles.

I'm just about to make a sarcastic remark when Easton comes up behind me and slaps me hard on the back. I spin around, frowning at him. "How much have you had to drink?" I ask.

"He's had a lot," Julia replies. "So much that if Nova heard the number, she'd skin him alive."

"C'mon, guys," Easton says, leaning heavily on me. "I'm not that drunk. Besides, it's my fucking turn to get drunk and your turn to pick up my sorry ass. It's the least you could do after all the Friday nights at the club."

I quickly glance at my parents. Luckily, they show no signs of hearing what Easton just said. I can't risk letting East spill the truth about me in front of them. Not only will it break Mom's heart, but it will also piss Dad off.

I look at Julia. "I think East needs to go to bed."

Julia nods in agreement. "Come on, East. It's time for bed."

"Aw, c'mon," he whines, tapping Julia on the nose. "I had plans, baby. We were –"

"Okay," Greyson says. "It's bedtime, buddy. Go sleep off the alcohol."

If it's Greyson's words or Julia's pleading look that works, I'll never know. Within the next couple of minutes, Easton and Julia are heading upstairs and I'm able to relax.

"Poor kid," Mom says as soon as they're gone. "He's going to be so ill tomorrow."

Biting back a yawn, I glance at the time. Half an hour has passed and the tiredness from the hike has rebounded, setting in my bones like cement.

"How was your trip with Nova?" Mom asks. "She was quite exhausted, wasn't she?"

"Yeah," I shrug. "She fell asleep during the drive back. Figured I'd let her sleep – that's why I carried her in."

Mom smiles. "Always such a gentleman, just like your father."

I nod wearily. If only she knew the truth; what I'm really like beneath this act.

"You know what, Mom?" I ask, suddenly feeling gloomy. "I think the hike is beginning to hit me now. I'm gonna head to bed."

As usual, Mom hugs me and says goodnight. My inner kid secretly loves her hug, but my twenty-three-year-old self says otherwise. I'm an adult. I don't need hugs from my mom. Man, if East were here, he'd laugh his ass off at me.

I'm sure Nova would beg to differ – she'd probably think the hugs are fucking adorable.

I quiet my mind. I gotta stop myself from thinking like that. As much as I want to win her over, I have to view this from the logical side. People like her and people like me don't mix. Opposites don't attract – we're not protons and electrons, or two magnets.

God, I think to myself. I'm starting to sound like Nova.

Wishing everyone a good night, I head upstairs. Nova is still asleep when I enter the bedroom. From the light of the moon shining through the open window, her face looks angelic. A strand of her auburn hair has fallen across her cheekbone, creating a sharp contrast. Without thinking, I reach out and tuck it behind her ear.

"Why did it have to be you?" I murmur. "Of all the girls...Why does my heart keep straining for you?"

The question fades into the silence of the night, unanswered and forgotten by everyone and everything in the world.

Except me.