"What kind of things?"
"Curious things. Excited things. Things that make me want to know everything about you and that terrifies me."
I understand exactly what she means.
"Chantay?"
"Yeah?"
"I want to meet you."
The words come out before I can stop them.
"You want to meet me," she repeats.
"I want to see if this connection translates to real life. I want to know if you're as amazing in person as you are in text and on the phone."
"What if I'm not? What if meeting ruins whatever this is?"
"What if it doesn't? What if it's even better?"
She's quiet for so long I think the call dropped. I shift forward in my chair, gripping the phone tighter.
"Max, I live in Atlanta. You live in Nevada. The logistics are complicated."
"I could come to you. I could fly to Atlanta."
"You would do that? Leave your mountain sanctuary to meet someone you've known for three days?"
Would I? The thought of leaving my cabin, of going to a city where I might be recognized, should terrify me. But the thought of meeting Chantay outweighs every logical concern.
"Yeah. I would do that."
"That's either really romantic or completely insane."
"Can't it be both?"
"I suppose it could be. Max, can I ask you something?"
"Anything."
"Are you running from something? Is that why you live alone with rescue animals?"
The question hits close to home. Because yes, I am running. From a life that consumed everything I cared about, from people who saw me as a bank account rather than a person.
"Maybe. What about you? Are you running from something?"
"Maybe. Maybe I'm running from the possibility that I might actually deserve someone who thinks I'm worth flying across the country for."
"Chantay. You are absolutely worth flying across the country for."
"You don't know that."
"I may not. But I know you're kind and funny and smart. I know you make me want to be a better version of myself."
"What version is that?"
"The version that's brave enough to leave his mountain and risk his heart on someone who might break it."
