“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.