Chapter 14 #2
I began executing my tried-and-true arsenal of selfie poses, nailing the perfect casual-yet-adventurous vibe. In the reflection of my phone screen, I caught Noah studying me. His expression sat somewhere between fascination and dismay. More-so dismay.
“You know, if you want to capture the authentic Colorado, maybe you should take more pictures of actual Colorado instead of pictures of yourself all the time. You’re not the only pretty thing to look at around here.”
I looked up from my phone, surprised. “You think I’m pretty?”
Noah frowned, realizing what he’d said. His expression closed like a steel trap. “I didn’t say that.”
“So you don’t think I’m pretty?”
“I didn’t say that either.” A flush of color spread across his cheekbones like a sunrise over the mountains. Noah Barrett was BLUSHING!
“Am I not mountainy enough for you?”
“What? No.”
“Is it because I wax my underarms?”
“No.”
“Is it because I don’t wax my underarms when I don’t have to go anywhere?”
“NO.”
“I know. It’s because I don’t wear enough flannel.”
“If you’re trying to annoy the shit out of me, you can stop now, because it worked.”
I decided to let him off the hook, though I admit it was tempting to keep going. “Fine. Since you’re the authentic Colorado expert, what else did you have in mind?”
“Well ...” Noah scanned the surrounding wilderness, his eyes looking everywhere except at me. Lighting up, he crouched beside a cluster of yellow flowers that looked like miniature sunbursts. “This is Arnica Montana. Native healers used it for centuries before it became commercialized.”
“So to highlight the beauty of the state of Colorado, you want me to feature a flower named after the state of Montana?”
Noah ignored my brilliant observation, crouching down beside a clump of purple petals.
“This is wild bergamot. The bees love it.” His voice was less gruff, more animated.
Almost like he was … human. “The entire ecosystem depends on these native species.” He gestured at various plants with the enthusiasm of a little boy showing off his favorite toys. “This yarrow here can …”
“Wait, did you say yarrow? As in the stuff they put in face creams?”
“Face creams?”
“This is perfect.” I dropped into a crouch beside him, the soreness in my legs temporarily forgotten.
“Clean beauty is huge right now.” I started framing shots of the delicate white flowers, their lacy patterns forming perfect geometric clusters.
“I love the whole ancient wisdom meets modern beauty angle. That’s good.
” I waggled my finger at him. “You’re good. ”
Noah’s eyebrows drew together like storm clouds. “These aren’t ingredients for beauty products. They’re vital parts of a complex ecosystem.”
“Right, right, of course. Vital. Ecosystem. Got it.” I took a selfie with the yarrow, giving my followers a thumbs up and a wink.
Noah sighed loudly, then started back up the trail. I finished another selfie, then scurried to catch up.
We hiked some more; the trail getting steeper and the elevation gain taking its toll. It wasn’t long before my lungs were on fire. My feet were on fire. My glutes were on fire. Maybe Noah would rub them for me. Great, now my libido was on fire too.
“Remind me …” I gasped, struggling to catch up. “Remind me to restart my Pilates membership when I get back home to Los Angeles.”
Noah glanced back. “Pilates?” It was the first word he’d said to me since the yarrow incident.
“Yeah, I know.”
“I thought exercise wasn’t really your thing.”
“It isn’t. Really, any physical activity whatsoever. My thing is watching reality television on my couch and eating pistachio ice cream.”
“Sounds about right.” Noah paused, allowing me to catch up. “How’d you end up in a Pilates class?”
“It was a birthday gift from my boyfriend.” I stopped, hands on my knees, most bodily functions failing. “Should’ve … huff … kept it … puff … up.”
“Your boyfriend gave you Pilates classes for your birthday?”
“Real thoughtful, right?” I wiped sweat from my forehead. “Pretty sure he just wanted me to lose weight.”
“Your boyfriend sounds like an ass.”
“Oh, he is totally. Called me ‘fluffy’ once. Complained when I ordered dessert. Said my food posts were enabling unhealthy habits.”
Noah’s face was a blank slate. I wondered what was going on behind those bright blue eyes. “No wonder you didn’t bring him along on your little mountain adventure.”
“Hard to bring someone who’s too busy boning their new girlfriend.” I tried to laugh, but it came out more like a wheeze.
“New girlfriend? As in, not you?”
“Not me, no. Definitely not me.”
“What happened? I mean, besides the Pilates thing.”
“I brought chicken noodle soup over to his apartment.”
“He hates chicken soup that much?” Noah’s face looked like he was trying to calculate an algebra equation. Or figure out why people like Benson Boone songs.
“Long story.” I managed to get my torso upright.
“The important thing is I made a commitment never to make another commitment again.” I whacked a small rock with my hiking stick, allowing myself a brief moment of joy by visualizing the rock as my ex’s head.
“Dating is overrated anyway. Like hiking. Shouldn’t we get going?
I’m sure you have better things to do than hear about my tragic and traumatic love life.
” Reminiscing with Grumpy Mountain Flannel Pants about my past was not something I wanted to do. Even if it meant more hiking.
“I’m just trying to connect the dots between chicken soup and declaring a life of celibacy.”
“You really want to know?” I braced myself for a snide comment or another insult.
Instead, Noah simply said, “Yes.”
I relaxed my grip on my trekking poles. “We were supposed to go see a limited showing of my favorite movie, Titanic, but he said he was coming down with something and wasn’t up for it.
So, me being the daughter of my mom, decided to fix everything with chicken soup.
” I kicked another rock down a cliff, imagining my ex’s screams as if it’d been him.
“When I walked into his apartment … well, I guess he was up for other things, apparently.”
“He was with someone else?”
“With someone … that’s one way to put it.”
For once, the grumpy look on Noah’s face didn’t seem to be directed at me. His eyes narrowed. There was tenseness in his jaw. “Good thing he didn’t come with you.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Cause he’d be hanging off the edge of a cliff right about now. Or Yeti would have eaten him.” Right on cue, the wolf-dog emerged from the woods, prancing back over to join us. “Here.” He reached for my backpack straps.
“What are you doing?” I clutched them tighter.
“We need to move faster if we’re going to catch the sunrise.” He gently pulled the pack from my shoulders. “It’s not much further anyway.”
“I can carry my own …”
“Samantha. Sam.” His voice was firm, but not unkind. “You’re going to want to get set up and have your phone ready before the sun pops up over the mountains. Trust me.”
I released my grip on the straps, watching as he slung my pack over his shoulder like it was stuffed with feathers.
“So, Titanic, huh?”
“Mass tragedy seems to resonate with me. That, and Leonardo DiCaprio.”
“It’s Brie’s favorite too. She made me watch it like a thousand times.”
“Wow. Were you going for some sort of Brother of the Year nomination or something? Clothes shopping and movie watching with your little sister?”
“Something like that.” Noah smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “You ready?”
“Ready as I’ll ever be.”
“Then let’s go get your first good look at authentic Colorado.”