Mouth open and poised to fling something incredulous back about how that was still not an answer, Lux falters, finding herself suddenly held close by a very strong arm on a boy whom she can't deny is painfully attractive. Not apple pie, quarterback attractive like Jones or earnestly mature attractive like Eric, but undeniably tall, dark and handsome attractive. Tasha would call him a world-class hottie. Lux just sort of blinks.

Hot, but weird. Hot. Weird. Hot. Stalker.

"Okay," she abruptly concedes. "But only if we walk. None of that whoopdeedoo jungle man stuff," she adds with a waggle of her fingers toward the canopy.