20 - Melissa

20

Melissa

As soon as I stopped trembling, Ash led me backwards to the cliff ledge where we had taken our first break. He made me sit down and drink the rest of my Gatorade, and then we climbed the first section straight back down to the ground.

Ash never said a word, but as we removed our gear and tossed it into his pickup truck, it seemed like he was judging me. Which I couldn’t blame him for, because I felt like a massive failure. I’d spent my precious money on an activity that I couldn’t even finish.

The drive home was silent.

“Sorry,” I said when he dropped me off at the climbing office.

He frowned at me. “Why?”

“For fucking up halfway through the via ferrata.”

He shrugged his broad shoulders without looking at me. “Not a big deal.”

“It’s a big deal to me. I don’t like to fail.”

“Sometimes people fail,” he said simply.

“Not me .”

“You didn’t piss yourself.”

I couldn’t tell if he was joking or not. He wasn’t the kind of guy who told jokes… or even smiled, for that matter.

“How many people piss themselves?” I asked doubtfully.

He swung his head, gaze crashing into mine. “Everyone who falls. Literally everyone.”

His intense stare was too much for me to handle, so I got out of the truck and hurried away.

I was exhausted as I biked back to the cabin. I knew that was probably thanks to the adrenaline rush of nearly falling off a mountain. Sure, I was never really in any danger; the safety line easily held my weight. But it still felt like I had nearly died.

It was a very different thrill than what I was looking for.

I ordered a burrito from the campsite food truck and ate it on my porch with a homemade whiskey and Coke. In all the chaos of falling, and the aftermath, I had forgotten about what had shocked me enough to slip: Ash said he was in prison.

That had to be a joke. Right? But once again, he didn’t seem like the kind of man who joked around. Like, at all.

But if he was telling the truth… then how did he end up there? What crime did he commit?

My imagination ran wild with possibilities all through the next morning. The only thing that stopped me from obsessing over it was getting a text from Noah.

Noah : Hey there, beautiful! Hope I’m not texting too early, but I’m headed to my shift and wanted to say that I hope you have a wonderful day!

Me : It’s 10:00. Do you really think that I would still be sleeping?

Noah : I don’t know your habits! Maybe you’re a night owl.

Me : I went to bed early at your place the other night ;-)

Noah : Those were unusual circumstances. We wore ourselves out.

Me : Yes. Yes we did.

Noah : I’ll be home tomorrow morning. How about another kayaking date, if you’re not busy?

Me : I’ll check my schedule. Hold please.

Me : Checking.

Me : Still checking.

Me : Yep, my schedule is still clear. I have literally nothing to do while my ankle heals.

Noah : Perfect! Maybe I should date immobilized women more often. Not only can you not get away very fast, but you don’t have any excuse when I ask you out :-)

Me : I’ll have you know I can get away very quickly on Ash’s bike.

Noah : True. I guess I’ll have to be polite to you.

Me : How ever will you survive?

I considered asking him if Ash really had been in prison for two years, but I held back. I didn’t want to steer the text conversation in that direction. Besides, it would be better to ask him in person so I could gauge his reaction.

When I lowered my phone, I noticed Jack gathering supplies from a storage shed on the back side of the main office. There was a pile of helmets similar to what Ash and I had climbed in yesterday. That intrigued me, so I walked over to snoop.

“Where are you going?” I asked. “Are you doing via ferrata?”

“What? No,” he replied brusquely. “I’m leading the campers in an off-road tour in the hills around Mount Crested Butte.” He pointed toward several four-wheeler ATVs parked nearby.

“And you didn’t think to invite me?” I asked with fake offense.

Jack stared at me, then tapped the bulletin board on the wall of the office. “There are fliers posted everywhere. You could have signed up.”

Oh. I had noticed the fliers listing activities like that around camp, but hadn’t given them more than a passing thought.

“Maybe next time,” I said, and started walking away.

“Wait.”

I turned around. He was stretching out a hand toward me, and quickly lowered it to his side.

“You should come,” Jack said. “If you want, I mean.”

“I don’t want to be a bother, especially at the last minute…”

“The tour’s not full,” he insisted. “I’ve got an extra ATV. It’s just sitting around. I actually have to drive them regularly so the fuel pumps don’t get clogged. You’d be doing me a favor if you came along.”

I blinked in surprise. There was no sarcasm or annoyance in his tone. He seemed like he genuinely wanted me to come along. What was going on?

“Unless you have something better to do today…” he offered.

He was right. And as I had just told Noah, I had nothing on my schedule.

“Sure. I’d love to come. As long as it doesn’t aggravate my ankle.”

Jack allowed himself to smile. “Your ankle will be fine.”

I changed clothes and returned to the front office. By now, the other customers were gathered in front of the vehicles with their helmets on while Jack addressed them.

“Never turn your vehicle on until you are fully clipped into the harness,” he was explaining to the group. “Keep your helmet on at all times, except for when we break for lunch. If anyone is caught breaking these rules, the tour will immediately end. Any questions?”

A little boy, not even a teenager, raised his hand. “Are we allowed to do a wheelie?”

“Do you know how to do a wheelie on an ATV?” Jack asked bluntly.

The boy shook his head.

“Good. Don’t try.” Jack looked up at the boy’s father. “Don’t let him try. It will go poorly. Any other questions? Good. Grab a vehicle and strap in. We’re leaving in two minutes.”

“You should work on your customer service,” I told him while the others all climbed on their four-wheelers.

Jack gave me a sideways glare. “My customer service is fine.”

“If you’re going for the annoyed tour guide vibe,” I replied.

He grumbled something incoherent under his breath.

I climbed aboard the last ATV in the group. Most of the customers were sharing, two people per vehicle. Three of us—me, Jack, and another guy who looked creepy in a way I couldn’t explain—got to ride solo in our own vehicles. The safety harness started between my legs, then came up and wrapped around each thigh, holding me down on the seat.

Jack verified that everyone was properly secured. When it was my turn, he reached between my legs and gave the harness a sharp tug. It was a totally innocent—and necessary—gesture, but I still felt a strange tingle at having him grabbing in that general area.

He’s polite to me for five minutes, and I’m already acting stupid . I shook it off as Jack clipped into his own vehicle and addressed the group.

“Follow me, keeping at least three lengths between each vehicle,” he instructed, then drove down the path leading out of camp. The four-wheelers rumbled to life and followed him, one by one.

A silly grin spread across my face as I slowly engaged the throttle. The entire vehicle vibrated beneath me. Between my legs. Firmly pressed against my lady-parts. That rumbling increased as the vehicle moved forward, following the line of ATVs snaking through the camp.

Okay. I could see why people liked these things.