Chapter 23

Chapter Twenty-Three

Charlie

W e spent the morning and a couple of hours after lunch in the studio, sketching a nude model. Contradictorily, staring at a naked lady, trying to etch her likeness on a giant piece of paper, finally settled my hard-on. The model was neither Bess, nor particularly hot, but the act of drawing took my mind off all the things I wanted to do to Bess. Well, not entirely. I was still the average man, thinking of sex every seven minutes. But that sort of frequency allowed other thoughts to enter into the mix, creating the illusion of control.

In the afternoon, we returned to the cabin to get ready for the hike.

I watched Bess fill up a water bottle and fit my empty shoe box she intended to use for leaf collecting inside her little backpack.

“Is that all you’re taking?”

She looked up, confused. “What? They said it’s only a couple of hours and we’re coming back for dinner.”

“Yeah. Plenty of time for some snacks, and to try my binoculars.” I grinned, lifting the pair I’d hung around my neck. “These have a built-in camera.”

She cocked her head, smiling sweetly. “Of course they do.”

Something had changed. I’d felt it from the moment we kissed in the cafeteria. There’d been a flash of confidence and challenge in her eyes, and passion that felt at odds with her earlier words. She’d looked at me like she owned me, which felt accurate. But my response to her was so visceral I hardly cared about the power dynamics. I only wanted to touch her.

I’d behaved like a lovesick teenager, giving her the upper hand, and she’d taken it. Not to gloat or reject me, even if she believed we had no future. She’d relaxed into herself, teasing me by playing an obnoxiously PDA-prone couple. I wasn’t sure if she felt jealous of the other women or if it was an act, but I enjoyed those touches, sneaking peeks at her at every opportunity. Bess had been drawing her heart out, graduating from soft shading to dynamic charcoal lines. I was so proud of her my heart ached.

“Don’t worry, I have trail mix for both of us. The good kind with chocolate.” I could only hope my preparedness was a draw card and not another reminder of my privilege and unbridled spending.

“Humans can survive two hours without snacking,” she said, but looked a little pleased as she pointed at my state-of-the-art rucksack. “So, what else did you pack?”

“Well, I’ve got the basics. A fresh pair of socks, a hydration pack?—”

“A what?”

I showed her my portable hydration bag, tucked to the side of my backpack, ready for sipping.

“That’s convenient. Are you also wearing a diaper so you don’t have to stop for wee-wee?”

“Damn! I knew I forgot something.”

“Haha. What else?” She reached for my backpack. “Come on, tell me! I know you want to.”

I grabbed her wrists to stop her from going in. Her eyes sparkled like the night sky filled with fireworks, and my chest responded by contracting. I could easily keep her here, locked into me. I didn’t want to force her, but the way her lips parted and breath hitched, I knew she wanted this.

“Sorry about teasing you,” she said breathlessly. “I’m sure it’s all very useful stuff.”

I released her arms and threw the rucksack on my back to stop her from diving in. I’d packed the hammock. Not that I expected to need it, but what was the point of buying all these things if you didn’t keep them handy?

“A portable espresso maker,” I confessed instead.

“What about the milk steamer?” She lifted an eyebrow.

“I grabbed some half and half singles from the cafeteria. It’s not a proper espresso, but the fresh air makes everything taste better.”

“I was kidding.”

“I’m not. Coffee tastes ten times better when you’re out in nature. Have you never tried it before?”

She looked down. “I don’t do a lot of hiking.”

“My family used to have a cabin up here, not far from Cozy Creek. It was sold a couple of years ago.”

Because dad wanted to invest in a jet. To show off. I’d loved that cabin, but it hadn’t been big enough for entertaining clients, and our life was nothing but a big show, designed to impress. And it did, with anyone else but this woman.

Me in my hiking boots and Bess in her worn-out sneakers, we ventured out of the cabin and onto the path leading past the parking lot, towards our nominated meeting point. The rain clouds had dissipated, leaving the afternoon air fresh and sky blue. The blanket of dark evergreens covered the hills, dotted by all shades of orange—like a fresh painting, hung to dry.

We joined the others, sporting various high-end backpacks and feather down vests and jackets, faces shielded by baseball caps. Bess’s faded windbreaker stood out, making me feel like one of the posers. Still, I worried she’d get cold.

Leonie stepped out of the main building, waving her arms like a happy strawberry in her red, puffy vest. “Looks like the weather gods are finally on our side! Is everyone ready? Got your water bottles? Snacks? Cameras? The alpenglow should be amazing tonight.”

“What glow?” Harry asked.

“It’s the optical phenomenon that makes the horizon glow in reddish tones right after sunset. It’s gorgeous!”

“I think I saw it the first night when I arrived.” Bess’s eyes shone with excitement.

I’d make sure we saw that glow again. But I’d be watching her face, not the horizon.

“Let us begin.” Leonie guided us to the far corner of the car park where a narrow, winding path led down a rocky hill, soon joining in with more of a beaten track that dipped into a forest of quivering aspen, so intensely yellow we all gasped.

“It’s like I’m drinking the color,” Bess said, her voice quietly reverent.

Leonie slowed down her naturally glacial pace, which suited me fine, until we emerged from the aspen, and I saw the endless, gradual climb ahead of us.

“Feel free to go at your own pace,” she announced, stepping aside to let the brisk walkers get past her. “Just follow the path. When you get to a small hunting cabin with a red door, please stop there and wait for the rest of the group.”

“How far is the cabin?” asked Miranda.

“It’s only a twenty-minute walk, roughly.” She glanced at Miranda’s heeled leather boots. “You have the option of turning around there and coming back if you don’t want to walk the loop track.”

“Oh, thank God.”

Bess traipsed ahead of me at an impressive speed. I had to take the occasional running step to stay at her heels. “Why are we running?” I asked when we’d overtaken the other ladies and were leading the pack.

She whipped her head around, flabbergasted. “What? I’m not running. I’m walking.”

“I beg to differ.”

“This is my natural pace.” She resumed her half-flying walk, hurdling protruding roots and shrubbery like it was an obstacle course and someone was timing her.

I took a deep breath and tried to adjust my stride to match her speed. “It’s like we’re running away from predators.”

“I live in a scary neighborhood. If you amble, people think you’re looking for someone to hook you up.”

“With what?”

She threw a telling look over her shoulder. “Anything.”

“Okay, I get it. But since nobody is chasing us with drugs, religious tracts or fake Rolexes, can we slow down a bit? So, we don’t miss the scenery. Weren’t you supposed to collect leaves?”

She stopped so abruptly I crashed into her back. “Sorry.” I retreated a step, and she turned around.

“You’re right. I should get that box out of my bag.” She took off her backpack and negotiated the shoebox into her hands, then turned to continue.

The rocky, grassy plain turned into an evergreen forest that closed out most of the sunlight, only letting the occasional beam of light through. The air felt cooler and more humid, the soundscape more intense. With no autumn leaves, we walked in silence for a while. After initially slowing down a smidge, Bess was back to her original speed.

If the distance to the cabin took Leonie twenty minutes, we’d be done in five. But she may have not been using her own pace as the measuring stick, since the path continued for several minutes with no hunting cabin in sight.

Instead, we came to a roadblock. A fallen spruce tree lay across the path like an impenetrable wall of needles.

“Shit!” Bess hopped around, looking for a way through. “We’ll have to go around,” she finally concluded, pointing at the thick shrubbery. “Heads or tails?”

I followed her gaze, taking in the roots sticking up at one end, and the top of the huge tree, somewhere further along. At both ends, the ground was covered in thick shrubbery of bushes and tree saplings. “Can’t we just wait for the others? They might cancel the hike when they see this.”

But Bess was already wading through the waist-high growth towards the roots, using the shoebox to shield her eyes from the occasional higher branch.

“I can see the path,” she called, her voice filled with excitement. “It’s not far. We just have to get through here, duck under these…” she lowered her head to avoid a root and disappeared out of view. “It’s here, Charlie! There must be a tight bend in that path right after the tree.”

I sighed and followed her. I almost had to get on my hands and knees to make it through, but she was right. The path seemed to continue on the other side.

“I told you!” She grinned as I brushed needles off my jacket.

“So, you did. Do you think the others are able to follow us?”

She tilted her head, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “So, what if they don’t? We can check out the cabin and the view and come back, right?”

I shrugged. “Sure.”

Bess sprinted down the path, an actual skip in her step. I had to admit, I didn’t hate the idea of losing the rest of the group. I quite liked it.

After a moment, we emerged from the forest and the path turned narrower, almost disappearing into the long grass. I saw a hilltop rising behind a stretch of trees, the likely location of the cabin. Soon, we were under the aspens again, drinking in the yellow.

“It’s magical,” Bess gushed, finally slowing her pace. She even stopped to take photos and gather some leaves, gently placing them into her box.

We continued walking through the forest until the path came to a fork. Bess cast me a confused look. “Didn’t she say we just follow this path to the cabin?”

“Maybe she didn’t remember this part. Do you want to turn back?”

“It’s probably this one, though,” she argued, pointing at the slightly wider path leading up. “That other one looks like a dead end. I’ll check.” She ran down the smaller path and soon called to me. “Yeah, this gets tinier. I don’t think it’s this one.”

When she re-emerged, we continued down the wider track. The aspens gave way to maple trees glowing in orange and red. Bess took more photos and gathered more leaves. “Have you found any pinecones yet?” she asked me.

I smiled, shaking my head. Pinecones hadn’t even crossed my mind since yesterday, even though we’d been walking through a forest. My attention was on her, the sheer joy and energy she radiated.

“I can help you later. I’m sure we’ll come across some pines soon.” She scooted by a large maple tree, browsing the leaves, and hummed something. Her voice was soft and beautiful.

“What’s that?”

“Autumn Leaves. An old song that popped into my head.” She looked up, a little embarrassed.

“Do you want to listen to music?” I pulled a pair of earphones from my pocket, offering her the small white container. “I don’t think I have that song, but I’ve saved a lot of music on Spotify.”

She gave me an odd look. “It’s okay. But you should put them on, so you don’t hear me sing.”

“I have another pair for me.” I dug up a pair of identical wireless earphones to show her.

“My phone battery drains too quickly if I listen to music. And I have nothing saved on my phone, anyway.”

“We can both listen on my phone.”

I mentally browsed through my playlist, wondering if I had anything romantic. Should I even try something like that? It felt manipulative, and I wanted something real. I wanted us to be for real.

“You serious?” She stood up, her eyebrows pulled together. “Can you hook up two pairs of earphones to the same phone?”

“Yes.” I smiled at her shocked expression, and waited patiently until she picked up the white container from my palm, clicking it open, staring at the standard pair of earphones like it was a diamond ring. “Wow.”

I wanted to pull her into my chest and hold her so tight. So, so tight.

You’ll scare her off.

“Okay, Charlie. Play me your favorite song.” Her eyes bright and expectant, she placed the earphones into her ears.

I swallowed. This was it. Time to share exactly what was in my heart. Choose between playing it safe or playing something real. What did I have to lose?