Not too long later, Stan points to a craggy cliff jutting out of a nearby mountain. “Have you two ever been there before?”
Jordan and I both shake our heads.
“There’s this beautiful trail that leads right to the top of that cliff,” Stan says. “Some of the best views are up there. And if youtwo catch it at sunset, it’s one of the most romantic hikes around. Might want to give it a try.” He pulls into the parking lot of the raft shack.
Normally, I would cringe at such a statement, especially while pressed against Jordan's chest. But when I feel Jordan laughing behind me, my body eases.
“What do you think, Paige?” he asks with a smile in his voice. “Do you want to go on a romantic hike?”
I elbow him in the gut, well aware he’s teasing me. Jordan knows that I believe if there are two words that never belong in the same sentence, they are “hiking” and “romance.”
Chapter 17
PAIGE
Ian trudges up the trail in front of me, his Great Dane strides outpacing my Chihuahua steps two to one. With every dusty step up the mountain, he gets farther and farther away. I feel like Tom Hanks as he watches his volleyball drift out to sea. I want to shout, "Wilson!" but my lungs might collapse if I strain them more than I already have.
Ian pauses ahead of me, and I swear I'm hallucinating as the dirt path levels out to flat ground beneath his feet.Oh mercy!My legs pick up speed with the fortuitous turn of events. When I crest the hill, Ian pulls a bottle of KissaWater from his hiker-grade fanny pack and tosses it to me, but my hand-eyecoordination is weak on a good day, so it sails right through my fingers and ends up rolling down the trail.
"I'll get that," Ian says, running after my water bottle like a Navy SEAL on a life-or-death mission.
I take this much-needed time to double over and breathe like a woman on the cusp of giving birth. When Ian said he had a surprise date planned for this Saturday, he wasn’t joking. I was definitely surprised to find out today’s date would include sweating out every ounce of water I’d consumed in the past seventy-two hours.
I straighten, feeling a dull pain in my legs as I do. I don’t know if my muscles can handle much more strain. They still hate me from last Saturday’s rafting trip. It turns out being flung from a raft and churned in a river can leave a body’s muscles feeling like they got shoved in a paper shredder.
I pat my sweaty forehead just as a gust of pine-scented breeze blows past me. The potent smell reminds me of last week's drive through the pine forest with Jordan and Stan. Once Stan dropped Jordan and me off at the raft shack, Jordan went straight for the landline to call his mom, who was safe and sound.
Shortly after, Missy, Ji, and Colton met us at the shack, where they made Jordan and me give them a play-by-play from the moment Jordan and I crashed into the river. We did our best to give them a dramatized version worthy of the big screen, all while excluding any mention of panic attacks or the conversations that followed. Not long after, Stan gave Jordan a ride to his car, and Jordan returned home after stopping to purchase a new cell phone. Meanwhile, Missy, Colton, Ji, and I spent the remainder of the day around the fire pit, laughing about our eventful rafting trip.
Looking at my friends all together, I couldn't stop thinking about everything Jordan was missing out on and the truths he had almost admitted by the river.
“Here you go.” Ian pops next to me and places the water bottle in my hands this time.
"Thanks."
He looks out across the miles of pine and aspen trees below us, breathing it in. "This is absolutely beautiful."
"It's… beautiful." Honestly, I'm having a hard time finding anything worthy of that term at the moment, unless Ian's referring to the dirt road that's been adjacent to the trail this whole time. Now,thatis truly beautiful. Why walk up the mountain when we could get there by car?
Ian sends me a heartstopping smile. I flick my hand at several flyaway hairs and try my best to look as L.L. Bean as I can.
"You having fun, Pages?" he asks.
"Mmm." It's the safest answer I've got—not yes, not no. I follow it up with a big gulp of KissaWater.
"Great—we're almost there." Ian points to a large rock structure that's three more switchbacks above us.
"Great." I stuff my inner turmoil down and focus on lifting my sandbag feet one at a time. This time, Ian keeps pace with me as he tells me stories about his hike up Mt. Kilimanjaro. I listen between rapid breaths. Hiking is a new side to Ian, one of many I'm getting to know. Since our “blind” date two weeks ago, we’ve spent a lot of time together. Every day, I'm introduced to new facets of him—some are good, and others… well, I'm on a hike, so that sums that up.
But honestly, Ian is a great guy who I feel lucky to be with. He's kind, thoughtful, and chill, far more chill than I remember. Together, we are like a resting heart rate—strong and steady. I may not get the deep laughs or the thrilling moments like with Jordan, but Ian has a thirst for the world that resonates withme. And his smile… woo-wee. I swear, it could be weaponized to make entire armies weak in the knees.
We reach the rock structure several minutes later and climb to a flat point on the rock to sit and rest our legs. He takes out two granola bars from his pack and tosses one to me—this time, I catch it. I focus on taking deep breaths to lower my heart rate, and when I finally feel like I'm not trying to breathe in deep space, I actually find the view quite pretty. However, I would still choose the car. Always the car.
We sit in silence as we eat and finish our granola bars. Restlessness works its way through me.
"Can I ask you a question?" Ian asks after placing our trash in his pack and leaning back on his hands.
"Sure."
