Chapter 20 #2
Misha’s expression softens, a rueful smirk playing at the corners of his mouth.
“I had a phase where I thought bringing women into my bed and exhausting myself with them would help. But it only made it way more uncomfortable, lying awake next to someone you’d rather not have in your bed in the first place. ”
The thought of Misha wearing himself out with other women stirs jealousy in me. Still, I can’t help but laugh, though it’s more out of shock than amusement. “Wow, Misha, that’s… wow.”
He shrugs, a playful grin lighting up his features. “What? We’re being honest, aren’t we? That’s what friends do, right?”
Friends…
The word hangs in my mind.
I guess we are.
So, it should be okay to open up a little too.
“I wouldn’t know,” I shrug, “Never had any friends before.”
“Well, get used to it then because you have three now,” he says nonchalantly, and my lips curl into a smile. “What’s your dirty little secret?” Misha probes, his tone teasing but underlined with genuine interest.
“My dirty little secret?” I echo, caught off guard.
“Yes, I told you that I used women to cope, and it didn’t work. Now, what do you do to cope?”
I don’t think stealing fish from the company’s aquarium counts as coping.
“I really don’t. That’s the problem.”
Misha nods understandingly. “Well, let’s see if we can fix that with a sunrise.”
We pull into a parking spot surrounded by trees, and it’s pitch-black outside when Misha turns off the headlights.
He hops out and comes to open my door before I can, holding out a hand to help me out.
Then he opens the trunk, dim light from the inside of the car shining on us as he sits on the edge to change into his hiking shoes.
I watch like a fool, but once he’s done, he stands, gesturing for me to sit down.
While I take off my sneakers, he grabs my hiking boots and kneels in front of me to help me put them on.
“I can do that,” I protest.
Misha flashes a cheeky grin. “Grey may be the one calling you princess, but I’m the one who gives you the princess treatment.”
“You’re an idiot,” I retort with a laugh, shaking my head.
Misha laughs, too, his eyes twinkling in the dim light. Then he stands, and after we secure our backpacks, he closes the lid with a thunk and locks the car, pocketing the key.
Pulling on his headlamp, he clicks it on, sending a beam through the velvety black of the early morning. We stand side by side at the trailhead, the path ahead impossible to make out.
“I’d have you walk in front of me, but then you’d be standing in the light and wouldn’t see well enough directly in front of you,” he explains, glancing back at me with a practical tone.
A shiver runs down my spine at the idea. Misha accidentally blinds me with his headlamp and quickly apologizes, adjusting the light upwards. “Are you afraid of the dark?”
“I’m not, or I thought I wouldn’t be, but this is kind of creepy,” I admit.
They always grab them from behind in horror movies, right?
“Do you want to have the light and walk up front?” he asks, already reaching up to pull it off his head.
“No, please, keep the responsibility. I’m just along for the ride.”
Misha smirks and steps in front of me, reaching back his hand and wiggling his fingers in invitation. I take it, feeling reassured by his firm grip. “Don’t worry, I’ve got you. Just hold on, watch where you step, and we’ll be up there in no time.”
As we hike, the path eventually widens and becomes steeper, allowing me to walk beside him, though he doesn’t let go of my hand, which I like more than I care to admit.
The forest around us begins to lighten with the predawn glow, shadows dancing between the trees.
“Why do you have hiking boots?” Misha asks, his tone casual.
“I used to go on hikes with my brother back home.”
“Oh, really, what was your favorite?”
“Seven Sisters Cliffs,” I say, thinking about the gorgeous view over the sea.
“I’ve never heard of it. But I never thought about going on a hike around London. I thought it was flat over there.”
“It is.” I laugh. “At least compared to here. But I haven’t been on any hikes here before this one, so what do I know.” I grip his hand a little tighter as we navigate a particularly rocky stretch.
“How come?” he probes, glancing at me with a raised eyebrow.
“I don’t really know the area, and I thought it wouldn’t be a good idea to go on paths I don’t know alone,” I admit, feeling sheepish about my lack of adventure.
Misha nods thoughtfully. “I usually hike alone, but I’d love to have a hiking buddy. So, if you want to join, you’re more than welcome.”
I laugh, a puff of white breath in the cool air. “I don’t think I can keep up with you. I hear your usual paths are way trickier than this one, and I’m already panting.”
“Well, I can certainly adapt it for you if you want to join, and I think you’ll have more endurance in no time.”
“Maybe…” I chuckle, “… but I doubt it. My legs are already shaking.”
Misha pauses, his silence hanging in the air.
“What?” I ask, coming to a standstill.
Please don’t let him be considering taking me back already.
But before I can say something else, he confesses with a mischievous grin, “Sorry, I have a dirty mind.”
My laughter bursts forth, genuine and unguarded. “Oh my God, Misha.”
He joins in, his laughter mingling with mine in the cool morning air as he pulls me back into a walk. “Sorry, but hey, I didn’t say anything. You were the one bringing it up.”
We continue laughing, the sound echoing lightly through the trees as we make our way up the trail.
After walking for a while longer in comfortable silence, we finally reach the summit. It’s still draped in the darkness of the early morning, but the sky is sprinkled with stars like scattered glitter.
With a hint of pride, Misha announces, “Here we are.” He releases me and stretches out his arms, turning in a circle as if he wants me to take in the view.
“Wow, it’s really… dark,” I quip, smirking at him.
He glares at me playfully before he drops his backpack and pulls out a blanket, spreading it on the grassy ground before sitting and tugging me down beside him. He switches off his headlamp, and I marvel at how his features are just visible—softened edges in the low light.
A shiver races through me, more from the dropping temperatures than exhaustion.
“Do you have another jacket with you?” Misha asks, frowning at me.
“No, only the one I’m wearing.” I hug myself for warmth, rubbing my upper arms.
“You’re freezing because you were sweating on the way up, and now that you’re not moving, it’s getting cold with the damp jacket,” Misha explains, then instructs firmly, “Take it off.”
“But that’s—” I start to protest.
“Take off the jacket,” he repeats, a gentle firmness in his tone.
Reluctantly, I peel it off, and Misha pulls off his jacket, draping it around my shoulders. Gratefully, I slip my arms through, the warmth enveloping me instantly as he zips it up for me.
“Thank you,” I murmur, feeling the heat start to seep back into my bones. “But now you’re going to be cold.”
“Don’t worry, I didn’t sweat.”
“Show-off,” I mutter, making him chuckle.
Misha pulls a down vest from his backpack and puts it on. Then he hands me his water bottle. “Here, drink something.”
“I have my own,” I reply, holding up my bottle.
With a chuckle, he teases, “Miss Independent, please let me take care of you, okay? You may have water, but I have the holy grail for hikes.”
Curious, I ask, “What’s that?”
“Sweetened, warm fruit tea,” he reveals with a wink.
I take the bottle from him and take a tentative sip. The warm liquid is comforting, and I hum in delight. “That’s perfect.”
He grins, reclaiming the bottle to take a sip himself. “Told you.” After putting it away, he wraps an arm around my shoulders and pulls me close. The shared warmth and his presence chase the remaining chill away.
And makes my heart beat a little faster.
“Better?” he asks, his voice low and close.
“Much,” I affirm, leaning into him.
This is something friends do, right? Cuddle for warmth.
Misha lies down on the blanket and gently pulls me down beside him so my head rests on his upper arm. He smells like walking into a greenhouse full of leafy plants or overturned dirt in the early spring after a light rain.
I love it.
Drawing me closer, I let go and snuggle in just as his soothing voice whispers, “I’m sorry you’re cold, but it will get better in a minute when the sun comes up.”
“In a minute? It’s still dark,” I protest, skeptical of his optimistic timing.
“I know. We were faster than I thought we would be. You’re fit,” he comments, offering a smile. He points up at the sky. “See, Venus, the morning star, is already on the horizon. That means the sunrise isn’t far away.”
“You’re into star stuff now?” I tease, following his gaze to the twinkling lights above.
“My father loves astronomy. Back in Greece, the stars were much brighter and more visible, and we went out to go stargazing a lot,” he explains.
“Do you miss Greece?” I ask with a yawn, cuddling some more into his warmth and making the jacket rustle.
“Not really. We came to the States twenty years ago. Everything felt so much cooler, bigger, and newer. I loved the sweets and the music. Music is actually how I learned the language,” he shares.
“Where is your family now?”
“They’re back in Philly.”
“Philadelphia?” I turn a little to look up at him. “That’s far.”
“Not as far as London,” he points out, snickering.
I decide not to pursue that thread. “Do you miss them?”
“Of course I do. But it’s fine. Like I said, there’s a lot going on there. I love to FaceTime them, but it’s… maybe I overdosed on family,” he admits.
“What does that mean?” I press, intrigued by his choice of words.