Chapter 19
The sunset came and went, and Reid and I are back to coexisting by the time the sky fades.
I refuse to let it get in my head. Therapy went well, she reminded me of how far I’ve come and actually made me sit with the feeling of pride.
It was uncomfortable to say the least. I felt like I had to pee the whole time, I couldn’t wait to expel that feeling from my body, even though it was a good feeling.
That fucked with me a little—it hit me how messed up I really am. When did I start to let fear of loss keep me from feeling anything at all? I’d like to say it started when Damien’s wife died, but I think it goes deeper if I’m being honest with myself. I’m scared to figure out when it all started.
Visualizations are working. I can see myself up at the trail head, confidently preparing to race, and more than that, I can feel it. I can feel the success of landing a jump in my body. I’m ready.
Part way through my visualizations, my phone starts vibrating—it’s Callum. We’ve only facetimed a few times, so I shake myself out of my head and try to brush my hair out a little with my fingers before answering.
“Hey, Beautiful.”
My cheeks flush every time he compliments me. I’m pretty sure that’s a good sign, but I can’t be sure—I’ve never done this before. I’ve had a few hookups over the years, but nothing has been serious.
At least I’m feeling something for someone who isn’t Reid. I focus on his chestnut brown eyes. “Hey, handsome.”
It sounds more natural than the last time I said it, and I count that as a success. “So,” his eyes dart around his hotel room, “I was wondering if you wanted to go out tonight?”
I didn’t see that coming. In hindsight, I should have.
We’ve been flirting for over a month, so it was probably about time we went on a date.
Comparative to the timeline in the books I usually read, I’m pretty sure we’re behind.
I’m channeling my inner Wyoming Addie—the version of me who’s brave and free.
I try to say ‘yes’ but somehow combine it with ‘yep’, and it all comes out a bit jumbled.
Callum’s laugh trickles through me like warm honey. “So that’s a ‘yes’?”
Nodding demurely, I focus myself on my breathing again. It’s slipping away. He’s staring at me intensely. “What? Do I have something in my teeth?”
His eyes are darting again, but this time between my lips and my eyes. Voice shaky, he replies, “No no no, you’re perfect. I can’t believe I scored a date with THE Baddie Addie.”
Callum’s joking, but it still feels good.
“You better savor it,” I joke back.
He’s smiling the words, “Oh trust me, I will. I’ll pick you up at 7?”
My finger hovers over the end call button while I nod again. I have to hang up before I fuck this up. Callum waves goodbye, and I throw my phone against my bed as the call ends and let out a strangled scream into my pillow.
It’s been ages since I’ve been on a date. I’m not sure I remember how to do it, but I promised myself I would try. I keep it casual with a pair of yoga pants and my vans. The top I choose is one Riley got for me—it’s tighter than I’m used to, but my boobs look good.
Fuck it, I’m gonna let my hair down too. It’s messy, half curly, half wavy, but it’s mine and I’m gonna own it. Who gives a fuck if some guy doesn’t enjoy the way the dead proteins on my head lay across my shoulders?
He’s staying at a hotel downtown, and part of me wonders if he’ll invite me over after the date. I already know I’m not ready for that, and I’ll say no. But it would be nice to be asked…I think.
Having him pick me up from my literal vehicle feels stupid, but I lean in and try not to think too hard about it. He’s trying to be sweet, so I’m doing my best to let him. He’s playing classic outdoorsy music, gentle strums of guitar with a bit of poetry mixed in.
It’s nice…he’s nice. I deserve nice, right?
The village is still very much alive. There’s a few fires scattered throughout, and a mix of families and mountain bums are soaking up the summer skies.
The warm glow from string lights fills the air, just like it did in the gazebo when Callum and I officially met.
It’s Kismet—or a signal that the menu is going to be overpriced. Either way, I’m going to appreciate it.
For a second, just a second, I find myself wondering what Reid is doing tonight.
I texted him to let him know he could use whatever was in the fridge and the miniature kitchen in Willa if he needed.
I’m not sure why the idea of him being bored or lonely got to me so much.
Chances are, he’s with that girl from last summer.
He’s probably kissing her under the stars, and he’s surely not thinking of me. I do my best not to think about him.
Callum is talking about how he got into mountain biking. I cling to his words, trying to make them mean more than they do. We’ve basically had this conversation ten times by now. It’s the only thing we really have in common, so I keep hanging on. He says, “I was born on a bike.”
What he actually means is that his parents wanted him to be successful, and they had the money to support his passion.
I always wonder how many phenomenal riders there would be if everyone was afforded the same gear and connections.
Mountain sports are expensive and the barrier to entry is very real, even if rich kids pretend it’s not.
We find a boutique pop-up that serves gourmet grilled cheese. I’m skeptical, but Callum proves me wrong—it’s delicious.
“It’s pretty good, right?”
The cheese is half melting out the side of my mouth, and my subconscious immediately drifts back to the last grilled cheese I had and who I shared it with.
Under me, the leather bench squeaks as I shift closer to him. “Yeah, it’s good.”
We find our way to an old gondola cabin turned private seating area. It’s intimate, maybe a little too intimate. The conversation is flowing, but it doesn’t last long.
“I should have asked you out sooner.”
I put on my best flirty smile. “Well, why didn’t you?”
“Well…” He pauses for a long time, like the words he’s looking for might not exist. “I always thought you and Reid were a thing.”
I’m beet red, I can feel it. I do my best to appear nonchalant. “Oh, no. We’ve always just been friends.”
He looks skeptical, and I can’t blame him. “Oh. I always got the sense that he didn’t want other men to get near you. That seems to be the consensus among the guys.”
My eyes roll back involuntarily. “He thinks he has to ‘protect me’. He treats me like a little sister.”
The sound that Callum makes is embarrassing.
It’s the kind of sound someone makes when it’s clear they don’t believe you, but they’re going to let it go.
He can see straight through to the depths of my soul.
My unrequited obsession for Reid is wide open in front of him to dissect.
I’m so damn obvious, but he takes pity on me and lets it go.
We shift the conversation to tomorrow’s race, and that brings on a different sort of anxiety.
“Usually I’m terrified, but this time I just can’t wait to prove myself,” I tell Callum, and I’m surprised how truthful it feels.
“That’s awesome, Addie!” Callum sounds genuinely excited. “What changed?”
I can’t tell if he’s asking because he actually cares about my journey or because he’s looking for tips.
“I got a new therapist and started going twice a week.” I laugh like it’s a joke, but I’ve never been more honest. “Journaling has really helped too, giving myself a set time and space to express all of my fears so they don’t consume me when I’m on the trail.”
“What do you journal about?” He stutters. “Sorry if that’s intrusive.”
“No, it’s fine.” It is fine—really, it is. In a way, it’s relieving to actually talk about this with someone. “I kind of just dump out all of my worst thoughts and most irrational fears. It feels dumb at first, but I feel a little lighter after.”
He leans in like he wants me to keep going. I’m certain now that he’s asking for advice. It shocks me, since he’s always been a competent rider. Not a superstar, but skilled, and he’s never once come off as scared, even though he’s explicitly told me he is.
I lean in some too. “I still can’t believe you get scared. You always seem so sure of yourself.”
Callum laughs, like actually laughs. “Addie.”
He stares at me with wide eyes and I motion for him to go on. “Of course I get scared Addie. We all do.”
The shock is painted on my face. Sure, I know logically that other riders must get scared after an injury or a crash, but they never appear to be affected by it. Reid doesn’t, that’s for sure. I let that realization sink in a bit before replying, “None of you guys ever seem scared.”
“I think some people just process it differently. You never seem scared either, Addie.” He touches my arm lightly as he says my name, and I do my best to let it rest there and not draw myself back.
“You must not be watching. I freak out every time I ride.”
The night draws to a close, and he drives me back to my van.
There’s still a light on in Reid’s van when Callum drops me off.
For half a second, I consider inviting him in, but it’s not like I have anywhere for him to sit anyway, so I decide to do something out of character instead.
Leaning over, my lips gently graze his before pulling away too fast.
I lose my footing and almost fall, but he catches me. His strong arm loops behind my back and pulls me up to stand. He moves his hand up to the back of my head, and he pulls me in like he did that first night we met. Our lips brush again, more forceful this time.
Heat drifts through my cheeks and down my throat, but it stops there. The smudged outline of Reid’s van against the night sky keeps pulling my attention.
My hand comes up to push Callum back slightly, and as he plants a kiss onto my forehead I can tell right away he liked this kiss. He wants more, and I wish I could give it to him. My mind is tumbling down the pit of desperation that is my addiction to Reid Hastings.
“Night, Callum.”
“Night, Addie.” His eyes trail down my body. Instinctively, I wrap my jacket around myself as Willa clicks open.
Shame drifts over me. Tonight could have been perfect if I could have gotten out of my own way. Out of habit, I check to see if Reid’s still up before sliding my window shut. There’s no light spilling from his van—I’m disappointed. A foolish part of me thought maybe he’d come to check on me.
After a steadying breath and some toothpaste, I pull out my journal and bare my soul.