Page 25 of Aim for Love

Glaring at Scott, I see Nora nudge Mollie.

“You have a massage license?” Mollie asks.

Keeping my eyes on the rest of the group hiking in front of us, I shrug. Still the same number we left with and everyoneis staying on the trail. “It’s something I picked up. It comes in handy in my line of work sometimes.”

“Now I’m picturing you and the guys back at the adventure center giving each other massages at the end of a long day,” Nora says. “It’s not a bad picture.”

“Shirtless, obviously,” Sophie adds.

“Obviously,” Nora agrees.

“We unfortunately can’t provide that service to everyone in the group,” I say stiffly, wishing I’d avoided this conversation.

“And we don’t expect it from you,” Mollie says hastily, clearly trying to save me.

“Wedon’t expect special treatment,” Nora says, and she and Scott share a grin. “Although maybeMolliecan expect some…specialtreatment from you, Hunter.”

Mollie is bright red. She’s still walking, but her hands look frozen in place at her sides. Her body language screams that she doesn’t know what to do.

“I don’t know that Mollie wants special treatment,” I say slowly.

Nora opens her mouth, and Sophie smacks her arm. Scott is watching this exchange like he wishes he had popcorn.

And then I decide to speak up. Because, if there was a manual for this situation, it would remind me that time is short and I only have a few days with this woman. I might as well enjoy them. “If she does, I’d be happy to provide a massage back at the lodge, though. Or my place.” I tack on the last bit because if I’m going to be bold, I might as well go all the way. I’ve blamed Tom for not wanting to step out farther onto this limb, yet Tom won’t care, not really. He might hold me to a higher standard than he does Scott, but he won’t hold it against me if I have a little fun. Right?

Mollie’s startled eyes meet mine. It’s possible I’ve taken this too far, and still, despite all our friends watching and drawingtheir own conclusions, I don’t care. I want Mollie to know I’m here forher.

Then she smiles at me, and it’s like we’re alone in this forest together. “I’d like that,” she says. “It’s a date.”

Then it’s settled. Because I know one date won’t be enough for me with this woman, and more than that can only mean one thing. We’re having a summer fling.

ten

MOLLIE

I’m notsure what to expect from a shared house where a bunch of outdoorsy guys live. Perhaps muddy shoes everywhere, mountains of beer cans, and athletic gear stored in the pantry.

But the house Hunter takes me to, which is near the adventure center, looks like my parents’ house and is maintained about as well. There’s a nice wrap-around porch—swept clean—and while the front roomisfull of gear and shoes, everything is lined up in rows and tidy piles. The dining room table is full of maps and guidebooks—words like “rock climbing” andUtah’s 50 Best HikesandColorado’s Fourteenersjump out at me but I don’t poke around.

When Hunter directs me to his room, down a hallway of closed doors, I stop in the doorway and close my mouth. His room is filled with books. There are two full bookshelves against one wall by a desk, and there are also stacks everywhere. There’s a stack on his nightstand and another on the floor by the bed. There’s a stack on the windowsill, propping open the window, and another by the door-jam as we walk in. Most of the stacks have bookmarks poking out of some of the books.

“How many of these are you reading at the same time?” I ask, turning in a circle once I manage to cross the threshold of the room. I’m surrounded by more reading material than I’ve seen anywhere outside a library. “And how many do you read every year?”

Hunter stands barely inside the door with his hands tucked in the pockets of his jeans. “I’m kind of a grazer. I read a chapter here and there when it’s relevant to my interests at the time. I don’t always follow through on reading the whole book. Often, I come back to things.”

“Are there more in your closet?”

He laughs a little. “Maybe a few.”

Moving slowly to give him the chance to protest, I walk over to the closed closet door and open it. Even under a pair of cleated bike shoes, there are a few more books.No skeletons in this closet, merely a well-rounded man.

I wasn’t expecting my emotional reaction to that, like a punch to the throat. Getting to know Hunter is hard, because everything he reveals about himself makes me want to know more. I want to hug all this information, along with the man himself, close to my chest and squeeze. I can’t be the only woman to have seen this closet—can I?—and I wonder if we’ve all reacted this way. And all lost him in the end, this man who is so much more than we expected.

Swallowing back all the feels, I face him. “I like it,” I say.

His mouth tugs up into a grin. “Sorry there’s not really anywhere to sit.” He pulls out the desk chair and moves the stack of books off it, offering it to me.

I look between the offered chair and the bed. With a bite of my lower lip, I choose the bed. I’m not here for a relationship. There’s no reason to pretend otherwise. This is a temporary arrangement between Hunter and me. I need to keep my eye onwhat I want to get out of it, as Nora said to me before slapping my butt and sending me off to “have fun” after the hike.

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