Rowan isn’t the type of guy to jump into bed without it meaning something more.
He told me as much, and that night, with my nails scratching over his skin, didn’t meannothing. It was more than just sex, with his body flush against mine, his lips pressing on the soft spot beneath my ear as I gasped his name.
“You take it from me so well.” The sound of his voice turned me frantic, pushed me closer to a dizzying height. When I asked him to keep talking, he’d buried his face in my neck, and, with his scruffy beard rough against my skin, said, “I want you to come for me, Lola.”
I’ve had casual hookups.
What happened with Rowan was the furthest thing from that. The look on his face the next day was one of betrayal, not of ambivalence. And I’m not going to let my fear hold me back from giving this one more try.
I park my car along the side of the road, just like I did before, and lock it, taking a deep breath and hoping I don’t see any bears on my way up to his cabin.
The hike is about three miles long, mostly uphill, and impossibly tranquil. I almost wish I’d brought my camera along — maybe I could make it a sort of sequel to the Ecotra video I posted — but then I think better of it. The whole point of that video was that disconnecting is what’s good for you. Experiencing life without the need to quantify or capture it.
By the time I see the slight curve of the cabin’s natural roof, I’m dripping with sweat and breathing hard, my muscles pleasantly surprised by more exercise that doesn’t take place in a sterile gym environment.
Another flush of fear moves through me. What if I knock on the door and he ignores me? Rowan took me out and showed meall the trail cameras he has, lining the road and surrounding the forest around his cabin. He will have seen me coming.
Like last time, I have to climb over the fence, but this time I’m quicker about it, my body stronger from the hikes I’ve been going on in the city. I drop down and take a deep breath, turning to the cabin and forcing myself to take one step after the other.
For a second, I entertain the thought of climbing on the roof and dropping down onto the back porch again, but it’s too risky. I could just as easily fly over the other side, and that wouldn’t be a happy ending for anyone.
So, instead, I walk right up to the front door of the cabin — which is dug a little way into the ground, a gentle slope that you’d miss if you were ten yards away — and knock on the door.
Blood roars in my ears, which turn red from the embarrassment of the moment. I knock again.
Two minutes tick by, excruciatingly slow, and he doesn’t come to the door.
In fact, there’snomovement inside.
Feeling like a total creep, but not wanting this trip to be for nothing, I move to the window, cupping my hands and looking inside. Surprisingly, the blinds and curtains aren’t drawn, so I’m looking right into the living room, which is dark and empty, the fire out, the throw blankets neatly folded over the couches and chairs.
“Cheese!” I call because surely she’ll bark in response. But there’s nothing. When I move to the other side, peering in through the window in the kitchen, I realize with a sinkingfeeling that the metal food and water bowls for Cheese are no longer to the left of the sink.
I pull back from the window, heart thudding, and run a hand over my hair, which is slick to my head with sweat.
Rowan is gone.
“So, fine,” I say out loud, because I’m not going to let go that easily. I grab a chair on the front porch and turn it to face out into the woods, so I can see him when he comes walking up. Crossing my legs and pushing my hair out of my face, I say to the empty air. “I’ll wait.”
CHAPTER 26
ROWAN
It’s been too long since I’ve been in Seattle. The bustle of the streets is like I remember, and today the sun is high in the sky, golden light refracting off the buildings as a cool breeze blows through, carrying with it little round yellow leaves from the Red Alders in the area.
Cheese is with Belle, and I’m sitting in the lobby of a nice building downtown while the receptionist makes a call, eyeing me dubiously.
I dressed down in a simple pair of jeans and a sweater, a ball cap pulled low over my face, my beard scruffier than I normally let it get. To leave the mountain was one thing, but to come into the city is another. I’ve had my head on a swivel since I got into town this morning.
When Pete walks into the lobby, looking puzzled, it takes him a moment before his eyes focus on me, and a whole range of emotions move over his face.
“Rowan,” he says, walking right up to me, eyes wide. “Everything good, man?”
“Yeah.” I clear my throat, and we stand awkwardly for a second. “Just, uh, in the city and wondering if you could do me a favor.”
“Just in the city,” Pete repeats, like he’s not quite sure what to make of that.
“Right.”
