But this guy was the real deal. Page after page— she had to go twelve pages in before she found anything other than some race time. According to the dates, this guy had been doing this for at least the past ten years. Then she found a ski resort page. He worked at the ski resort. That’s what he told her, so he had been telling the truth. He was a ski instructor and first aid person. Interesting. That was as different from her life as you could possibly get. Same with Dylan.
She pushed aside thoughts of Dylan. Dylan was, as far as she was concerned, off her radar screen. He may still be lingering on her skin in that deep, sensitive part of her belly, and the scent of him might still be on her sweater—and maybe in the crook of her elbow, and behind her earlobe and—
Oh stop it, Laura, just stop it. The guy had a girlfriend. He was trolling the online dating sites, probably just to find a one-night stand or because he was a sex addict or—who knew? No more Dylan. In fact, she had blocked his number on her phone, removed him from her “Favorites” on the online dating website, and she was 100 percent done. Just wrote him off. No more Dylan.
Mike, on the other hand—Mike was new. Fresh. Untainted. What could she learn from Mike? Some protective voice inside her said, Are you a complete and utter moron? You’re going to go at twilight, during dusk, and walk a multi-mile trail in the woods with some guy you’ve never met yet— are you crazy?
Josie knocked her out of her reverie. “He seems interesting. I’m trying to imagine you running a—” Josie gasped, “—marathon.” Wheezy laughter. “Uh...I just can’t.”
“You just lost your free latte.”
“You know me, I’m a fast metabolizer of caffeine —that’s what my genetic testing showed me. You have to get me one! This—” she pointed to the cup of coffee Laura had just made her—“isn’t enough!” She mooned a begging face.
“Did your genetic testing show that you consume enough caffeine to mimic a sun-addled mosquito on crack every day?”
“Yes.”
“Really?”
“Yes, it did.” Josie nodded soberly. “And so therefore, that explains why I need you to buy me a triple latte, Miss I’m Going to Say Yes to Life.” Josie frowned, “So was the sex any good last night?”
“What?! Why are you asking me that?”
“Well, we’re talking about saying ‘yes,’ so it seemed like a natural segue...”
“Of course it was good.” Laura rolled her eyes, her chest heaving a bit as she sighed deeply. “Too good.”
“What do you mean, too good? Is that possible?”
“Well, it’s too good when it turns out he has a girlfriend. He was just, phew— oh boy, Josie.”
“The best you’ve ever had?” Josie asked.
“Well,” she sighed heavily. “Yeah.”
“You’re sure he has a girlfriend?”
“The pictures made it clear.”
“Damn. Well, maybe you can say ‘yes’ to this guy you’re seeing tonight.”
“Yeah.”
“Yes.”
Huff, huff, huff. Laura was more out of shape then she’d ever imagined. Her idea of exercise was lifting her hand from her mouth to the bag of Doritos or lifting the spoon out of the pint of Ben & Jerry’s. No, she chided herself, that wasn’t really true. She took the stairs at work, and that wasn’t a joke, considering the fact that she worked on the thirty-second floor. And she and Josie power walked around her neighborhood (Josie jokingly called it their Mugging Prevention Program), but this kind of sustained, prolonged effort that used muscles that involved the hard work of uneven terrain, hiking along the trails and the woods? This she wasn’t used to.
And that was OK. Really. Mike was a sweetheart who slowed his pace down and who was absolutely, fantastically interesting. Talking about everything from books that Laura hadn’t read since college, but had always loved, to movies—who knew he had a Christopher Guest obsession, too? She couldn’t wait for a second date where they could sit and watch Best in Show, and she could enjoy having that someone finally who appreciated the humor.
Second date? She was getting ahead of herself.
And she really liked that.
“Laura, are you OK?” Mike asked, a look of concern covering his face as she wheezed slightly while rounding a bend and staring at the tall hill leading to the summit. Too tall. Too high. Too little air. Ah, hell. What had she agreed to? Huff huff huff.
“Oh, I’m fine,” she lied. “Just not used to these tall hills. I’m more accustomed to doing eleven street blocks downtown while carrying my morning latte. Not hiking up a steep mountain while carrying a stainless steel water bottle. I’m adjusting, though— I’ll be good.”
He smiled and stared at her. “You’re a good sport you know?”
“I have to be. I don’t think I have the oxygen to run away.”
They both laughed in unison and Laura felt a warmth spreading through her. She couldn’t quite believe the way that the past two days had gone. First, she’d had an absolutely amazing date with Dylan. She could still feel him on her skin, even though she had slunk out of his apartment like a sorority girl sophomore learning how to navigate the world of one-night stands. Then again, it wasn’t exactly her fault that he had pictures of his girlfriend all over the place; funny how that killed the mood. All of that was (hours) behind her, for now here was this golden boy, smiling at her and standing there like Thor at the gates of Asgard, taking her on a hike.
Mike was about as opposite of Dylan as you could possibly get. Tall— if he was shorter than 6’5” she’d be surprised— blonde, maybe Danish, with piercing blue eyes and the lanky body of a thirty-something guy who walked like he was seventeen and still a little awkward. Just looking at his body told her he was a true athlete, and he had told her himself he was a ski instructor, so obviously he was coordinated, toned and balanced, and could move with fluidity and grace whether they were hiking, skiing, or...in bed?
She, on the other hand, felt like a giant cotton ball right now. A sweaty, huffing cotton ball. Who wanted nothing more than to relax in a hammock with a pitcher of sangrias.
And an oxygen tank.
Yet here she was, about a quarter mile from the summit of some crazy-ass hill that he wanted her to climb to the top of. She could expand her horizons. This was something new. He was sweet, quiet, kind of taciturn—but not in a bad way. Nothing was awkward. Nothing was uncomfortable. He was just a man who didn’t talk too much. He preferred, obviously, to act, to stretch, to move— to move up that damn hill. Which she now stared at as if she were looking at the top of Mount Everest.
“So, we’re really going to climb up that?” she asked, trying to keep the skepticism out of her voice.
“Yep, we really are!” he grinned. “But,” he patted the log next to him where he’d sat down, stretching out his long legs, his arms toned and golden, eyes kind and nervous. “We can take a short break.”
“A short break?” Eek. She didn’t mean to sound so overwhelmed, but if she paused, took a deep breath, and did an inner inventory, she had to admit that this hike was killing her. This may be her true walk of shame, especially if Mike had to call 911 and have her hauled down this mountain on a hand-held stretcher. With her luck, Dylan would be the paramedic on call.
Don’t think about Dylan!
“OK, a long break.” His hearty laugh put her at ease. What was most comfortable, though, was what he didn’t say— how he just moved from laughter to quiet, the silence self-composed and genuine. He wasn’t shifting around or twitching in his own skin. He just wasn’t going to say anything if he didn’t have anything to say, and yet his nonverbal communication was calm and sweet. Mike was just there, with Laura, and the two were spending time together. That was enough.
She liked this. It was new. Time and space were enough, and as the seconds unfolded gradually into minutes, the minutes now more than an hour, she felt like she was spending time in a bubble with this new man, learning an entire new language of mindfulness.
“Whew,” she said, collapsing on the log next to him, trying to suck in her belly at the same time as her hamstrings cried out in relief.
Laura suddenly felt like a complete ass, her calm focus from just seconds ago vanquished, replaced by a self-consciousness that was most unwelcome. Not exactly experienced with dates like this, she’d overdressed and now, many miles into this hike, she was dripping with sweat, her hair limp and plastered against the edges of her face, her body flushed with the heat and the exertion of this trek up this crazy tall hill. She felt about as feminine as a wet tissue and yet that kernel of woman in her did have a spark of femininity, because she was responding to Mike in ways that shocked her.
Her body should have been spent from the night with Dylan. Rather than finding herself halting or tentative, it was as if what she had done with Dylan the night before had opened her up like a flower blossoming, giving permission to show its true colors and to spread itself in full glory—and right now, Laura was ready to spread herself again.
Easy, girl, she told herself as she stole another look at Mike.
