Page 12 of Hooking the Captain
Coop chuckled and started walking, his long legs eating up the ground quickly. “Come on, slowpoke,” he teased, but it urged me to pick up the pace until I was right next to him.
As we hiked, I admired the views—the pine trees lining the trail, the jagged rocks on the side of the mountain, the way Coop’s ass filled out his black athletic shorts. He really was a gorgeous guy with thick dark brown hair, piercing dark brown eyes, and a neatly trimmed beard. He was a couple inches taller than my five feet, eleven inches—something I had enjoyed during our kiss the night before.
Our kiss.
Staying in Vermont was supposed to give me time to mend my broken heart, not go in search of someone new. Except that was the thing: I hadn’t been searching. But after playing pool with Coop and noticing those stolen glances from him, I’d found myself making the first move and admitting that I wanted to kiss him.
“You doing okay back there?” He looked back at me over his shoulder.
“Yep,” I grunted, hoping he couldn’t tell I was out of breath.
“Here.” He stopped and handed me a bottle of water.
“Thanks.” I twisted off the cap and took a swig.
“I’m guessing you don’t hike a lot?” He grinned.
“You caught me. Not all of us share the athletic abilities you seem to possess.”
He narrowed his eyes, and for a split second I worried I had messed up by revealing that I knew who he was. Instead, he took a drink from his bottle and replied, “We could have done something else.”
I shrugged. “Hiking sounded like fun.”
“Well, we’re almost to the top.”
A few minutes later, we reached the summit and paused to take in the view. I looked over the wide expanse of the area below us, and the bright blue sky filled with puffy white clouds above.
“Wow, this view is awesome. Do you hike here a lot when you’re in town?”
He shook his head. “No. I haven’t been up here since college.”
“When was that?”
“I left Dartmouth after my second year, so eight years ago.”
That would most likely put him around twenty-seven or twenty-eight. I’d never dated an older guy before. Not that Coop and I were dating, but I wasn’t opposed to the idea of getting to know him better.
“Well, this place is really cool, I’m glad you suggested it last night.”
He smiled. “Me too.”
We stared at each other for a few moments, and I was tempted to lean in and kiss him again, but as I tried to muster up the courage to make a move, a group of hikers came into view. He took a step back and cleared his throat. Trusting others didn’t come easy for me, but since it appeared neither of us were ready to share our true selves with the world—me as bi and him however he identified—I didn’t feel a need to be on guard around him.
“Ready to head down?”
“Yeah. Let me get some pictures first.” I took a couple photos with my phone, and then we turned and walked down the mountain.
As we passed the group who had interrupted our moment earlier, I heard one of them whisper, “That looks a lot like Emmett Cooper.”
Coop’s back straightened, and then he quickened his pace. I rushed to keep up with him again.
Once we reached the parking area, we stopped next to his truck. I was a sweaty mess and trying not to drop to the ground in pure exhaustion, but my fatigue was quickly forgotten when he pulled his shirt off and grabbed a clean one from his backseat. I watched in fascination.
When I finally moved my gaze from his rock-hard abs back to his face, he raised a questioning brow.
“What? Did you think I wouldn’t look?” I winked.
“Uh.” He looked at the ground. “I guess I didn’t think about it.”
