13. Oliver
THIRTEEN
Oliver
“Now this is more like it.” Frankie sipped on her coffee and did a little shimmy in her chair, a fuzzy blanket wrapped around her like a shawl.
I chuckled. “See? I told you you’d like this.”
“Only this part,” she corrected. “I could have done without the first portion of the morning.”
It had taken us nearly two hours to get from the car to a giant yurt settled on private ranch land. Giles had mentioned that this was a popular spot for guests of the lodge, and I thought it would be the perfect excursion to take Frankie on. I hadn’t quite anticipated how much she would dislike snowshoeing, but overall, I’d say it was a win. She even stopped us at one point on the walk up here to snap a picture of the view. Maybe she wasn’t hiking’s biggest fan, but at least she’d stopped to appreciate it for a second.
The yurt was covered in thick rugs and had a wood-burning fireplace that heated the whole place. Less than ten tables were scattered around. There were a few other groups of two and one family in the back corner. All had passed us on the trek over here. We were the last to arrive, but thankfully, the breakfast hadn’t run out. The pancakes, bacon, eggs, and coffee were still piping hot when they set plates in front of us upon our arrival. With each bite and sip of coffee, I could see the life returning to Frankie’s eyes.
“At least you’ll be more energized for the walk back,” I said when she’d taken a particularly big bite of toast.
Her face crumpled. “Why would you bring that up right as I started relaxing?”
I burst out laughing. “Or—if you’re really against the walk back—there’s a shuttle that’ll take us back to the parking lot.”
She gasped dramatically and held her hands together in a pleading gesture. “I’m really, really, really opposed to the walk back. Please, Oliver. You can’t get me all content and full in here and then force me back on that trail. That’s what people call cruel and unusual punishment.”
“I think they actually call it fresh air and exercise.”
“Spoken like a true masochist.”
“You’re ridiculous,” I sputtered.
“For wanting to be comfortable? Call me ridiculous all day long, because I’m not apologizing for that.”
“Whatever,” I said, smirking as we continued to eat.
Before getting to know Frankie, I would have considered a dislike for the outdoors a major deal-breaker in a woman. But now, I couldn’t get enough of her. Challenging her beliefs and getting her to try new things was fun as hell.
“I’m having a good time,” she finally admitted. “Snowshoeing wasn’t that bad.”
I pretended to fall out of my chair in surprise.
“Hey!” she giggled, throwing her napkin at me as I righted myself. “I mean it. Thank you for dragging me on this.”
“Happy to be of service.”
“I can’t even remember the last time I hung out with a guy like this.” Her eyes widened as if she realized how that sounded. “I just mean?—”
“Haven’t gone on a date in a while?” I chuckled.
“I date, okay?” Her tone did little to convince me. My face must have given away my disbelief because she folded her arms across her chest. “I do,” she insisted.
I shouldn’t press the subject further. I should drop it. Frankie’s dating history wasn’t any of my business. In fact, I couldn’t care less. And yet… When was the last guy she had kissed before me? Had she kissed anyone since? My gut said that wasn’t likely. I was way more social than she was and I sure hadn’t. Honestly, I had no interest in seeking out other women. I’d been far too busy thinking about the girl I’d met the first night I got here…
“When was the last real date you went on?” The question toppled out of my mouth before I could snatch it back.
Her eyebrows shot up. “We’re talking romantic history now?”
I tried to play it cool. “Dating falls into the category of having fun. And since I’m helping you do that right now…”
She gave a sharp laugh. “Dating? Fun? That’s a good one.”
“You don’t think dating is fun?”
“Not the ones I’ve been on,” she muttered, sighing. “The last guy I dated was nice enough, but our schedules never lined up. Before that, I dated some douche at work. He was cute and hard to get. I think the challenge tricked me into thinking I liked him or something. Anyway, those were both forever ago, and I’ve barely had so much as a second date since then.”
A dating dry spell. Interesting .
“What about you?”
The natural progression of the conversation caught me off guard. I liked finding out more about her. I hated talking about myself.
“Not much to tell. Women are great, but relationships have never been for me.”
“Why’s that?” she pressed.
Because I’ve seen firsthand what being trapped with someone you hate in a loveless marriage looks like.
“Just no interest in it,” I said.
“That’s not a real answer.”
“Moving on.” I clapped my hands together and rubbed them. “Next question.”
She narrowed her eyes.
“Favorite childhood memory?” I asked.
Instead of fighting me on it, she paused to think it over. After a minute, she had a dreamy look about her. “It’s not so much one memory, but a bunch of them. My mom didn’t work for a few years to spend more time with me and Mattie. One summer, when I was like five and Mattie was seven, she’d decided the three of us would drive all around to check out any playgrounds we could find. She told us we were doing a survey to find the best one.” She smiled, reminiscing on it. “It felt like the world was so big when we’d show up at a new one after driving for what felt like forever. When I was older, I realized the furthest we ever went was like an hour. I don’t know, that was just such a fun time. Spending all summer with my sister and mom. It only got harder after that, you know? Mattie and I made different friends. My mom went back to work eventually. But that summer felt magical.” She sighed. “I still love a good playground. There’s one across the street from my condo, and I always think about walking over to use the swing set or something.”
“Why don’t you?” I asked .
She scrunched her nose. “Because I’m twenty-eight, and that would be silly.”
“The only thing silly about that is denying yourself something so simple that could bring you even a flicker of joy.”
She looked down at her steaming coffee. “I guess I hadn’t thought about it like that,” she whispered.
Damn, she was beautiful. Hair a mess from the hike. Cheeks still stained red.
“What’s your favorite memory?” she asked.
Shit. Me again.
“Probably days after school spent at the skate park with Harrison,” I told her. Skateboarding had been the first thing to make me feel alive, and getting out of my weird, tension-filled house was always a relief.
“You’ve mentioned Harrison a few times. Are you close?” she asked.
“He’s like a brother to me,” I said, feeling a small spasm in my chest.
Her brows drew together. “More like a brother than your actual brother?”
I ran a hand down my face. “Um, well, yeah. Nathan and I weren’t the closest growing up. We’re better now—a lot better, actually. But growing up, it was strained.”
“Competitive?” she asked.
If the competition involved separating a family down the middle. “Um, you could say that,” I said.
She carefully chewed a piece of bacon.
Despite my attempts to relax, I realized my body was taut. I forced my shoulders away from my ears, not wanting Frankie to see how uncomfortable I was discussing my family.
“Well, what’s your favorite memory with your family then?” she asked slowly, as if I might spring from the table .
The simple question sank right into my gut like a lead anchor.
The thing was, a lot of memories came to mind. The diner my mom would take us to every Sunday for lunch. Watching every new season of Survivor and picking our favorite to win it all. When she’d sneak us away to go to a thrift store any time my dad was home and in a shitty mood—which was often.
But now those memories were tainted. Because instead of seeing any good times, all I could think about was Nathan. How left out he must have felt. I’d never realized it at the time. He’d always come across as so cold to me. But now it was so obvious in my memories how alone and alienated he must have felt. It was like getting punched in the face with it. How he’d become more quiet and withdrawn as he got older. And it was my fucking fault for not trying harder.
If there was one person I blamed more than myself, it was her. He was her son, for Christ’s sake. She should have known better.
I forced out a long breath. “Next question,” I said.
She opened her mouth to protest, but I kept going.
“What’s your greatest ambition?” I meant it as a joke, but my tone came out a little sneering, likely because of all the thoughts coursing through my mind.
Seeing the way Frankie’s face immediately fell made me feel like a fucking idiot. Greatest ambition? What the hell was I thinking? She’d just lost her job. One which was clearly very important to her. Of course, an insensitive question like that was going to hit her right in the chest.
When she didn’t answer, I tried to tilt my head to force her to meet my gaze.
“Hey, I’m sorry about our conversation on the hike up. I shouldn’t have pushed you like that. ”
“It’s fine,” she said in a voice that assured me it was anything except fine.
“You can help me think of some goals if you want.” I kept my voice light, hoping to tempt her.
“No, it’s stupid.”
As ridiculous as I’d always thought all that goal-talk was, hearing her say those words nearly broke me.
“No, really. I want to hear your thoughts.”
She picked at her cuticles, and just when I thought I’d have to resort to straight-up begging to get her to talk to me again, she relented. “You asked me earlier why I’m so obsessed. It feels pathetic to admit, but I honestly don’t know. It’s always been engrained in me that that’s the way life goes. You work hard, get an education, get a good job, and life falls into place. I never even stopped to question it before.”
My heart cracked.
“All I’ve done is question the conventional path. It’s not like my life is amazing either,” I said, trying to commiserate with her.
“What are you talking about? You’re, like, the happiest person I’ve ever met.”
Was I? I knew that’s what was expected of me. I knew that’s how I came across. But was I truly happy?
I thought I was. But then, seeing my brother get married, my best friend move in with his girlfriend, and watching my relationship with my mother become more strained—what did I really have at the end of the day? Myself. The outdoors. Sure, it was invigorating. I loved the constant adventure.
But happy …
What a strange word when you thought too much about it—something I rarely did. But lately, searching in Frankie’s eyes had me questioning more about myself than I ever had before .
The clink of her coffee mug against the table had me refocusing on her.
“You are happy right?” she asked.
“Next question,” I muttered.
She looked up at the ceiling in exasperation. “You can’t always do that, you know? Change the subject any time I try to ask you a personal question.”
“Do I?” I smiled and tilted my head, pretending I didn’t know exactly what she meant. It was a side of me few people noticed, mainly because I didn’t let many get close enough to see it.
“You know you do.” She waved a finger at me. “Careful or I’ll stop asking them altogether.”
My pulse quickened. The idea should bring me comfort, but it didn’t. I didn’t know what I wanted, but Frankie giving up on me in even the smallest capacity wasn’t it.
I laced my fingers behind my head and leaned back in my chair, attempting to gather myself. “So, about my goals.”
“Forget it,” she said.
I pouted. “But I was really looking forward to my fifty-year plan.”
That finally got her lips to turn up. “Wow, I know you’re desperate to change the subject if I’ve got you begging to talk about plans.”
“Please. Give me direction.”
She laughed at that. “You know, you might think you’re above goals, but you have them too. Like getting through high school to move out here. That was a goal.”
“I guess.”
“And snowboarding, mountain biking, whatever the hell else you do. You intentionally learned those skills. You set a goal and you met it. Those are goals, believe it or not, Oliver. ”
I frowned. “I’d hardly equate picking up a snowboard to a retirement plan.”
“You bought a house.” She tapped her nose as if she got me. “You might want people to think you’re some carefree nomad, but you’re responsible. You can follow through on things.”
I sighed, letting her think she had me figured out. The truth was, even though I hadn’t put much thought into the things she mentioned, I had made them happen. I wasn’t so much financially responsible as I was cheap. I’d always lived well below my means. Buying a house? It made sense to me. I never intended to settle there; I just figured it’d be cheaper in the short term, and I could rent it out whenever I moved on. Which, of course, I was doing now. I guess now that I thought about it, I was following through on a plan.
“Now what’s next?” she asked.
“Next?” I repeated.
“Ski season is ending soon, meaning lessons will be over. You already told Bev you weren’t going back to Denver, so what’s next? Are you—are you planning to stay in Key Ridge?”
Did I detect a hint of hopefulness under Frankie’s nonchalant tone? The thought of her hoping I’d stay had my ego practically bursting at the seams.
“I haven’t thought about it,” I admitted truthfully.
“Seriously?” She blinked a few times, as if not planning the future was a foreign concept to her. “It’s only a few weeks away.”
I shrugged. “Right. I have plenty of time to figure it out.”
“What do you want to do?” she pressed.
I chewed on the inside of my cheek, mulling it over. “Maybe hit up a different mountain town. Maybe travel. I’m not sure. Something will work out. It always does. ”
She sat back in her chair. “What must it be like to have that kind of blind confidence that things will always go your way?”
“It’s not blind confidence if it’s always worked that way in the past.”
“Let me get this straight—your only plans are to maybe drift around the state of Colorado?—”
“Or another state. I heard Montana is cool.”
She sighed. “What is it like in that head of yours?”
“Exhilarating?” I offered.
She picked up the maple syrup and drizzled it onto her pancakes before taking a fork and knife to them. I took a few pieces of bacon off my own plate and shoved them into my mouth.
The rest of the breakfast went by without any additional hard-hitting questions.
I made one last futile attempt to get Frankie to snowshoe back to the car, but she told me to give her the keys and she’d meet me there. The shuttle drove us the whole way. I stretched out my tired limbs next to her. Our knees bumped with each rattle of the tires against the rocky, icy service road. She kept sneaking glances at me. I met them every time, but she tore her gaze away immediately.
The drive back to her place was uneventful too. It mostly consisted of us arguing over which radio station was better. I claimed the country station was actually quite catchy, but she kept switching it back to some oldies one. Frankly, neither was great, but the argument had us both laughing.
When I finally pulled into Giles and Mattie’s driveway, I didn’t want the morning to be over. I figured I’d go snowboarding after I dropped her off. Since I didn’t have any lessons, it was a good time to get out and do the terrain park or some of the more advanced runs. Some of the lifties had even asked if I wanted to meet up. But when I glanced over at Frankie, I realized if she asked me to do anything—watch some silly rom-com, or walk Main Street, stop by the lodge even—I’d do it. Even if that meant being under the light of her probing questions. I wasn’t ready for my time with her to end. But I had already spent hours with her. I had no reason to ask for more.
Before she could open her door, I motioned for her to wait and dashed to her side. But by the time I reached the handle, she had already swung the door open.
“I was going to open it for you, you nut.” I smiled, looking down at her. She was still sitting, but her legs were swung halfway out the door, making our proximity tantalizingly close. On instinct, I licked my lips as I gazed down at her. Without even realizing it, I was inching closer toward her face.
She didn’t back away, and I found myself unable to resist temptation any longer. Just like muscle memory from that first night, I kissed her. It felt a hell of a lot like coming home.
Despite this being our second kiss, she moved more hesitantly this time, her mouth moving slowly over mine. It was sweet. I nipped her bottom lip and she smiled against my mouth.
After a minute, I pulled away reluctantly.
“What was that for?” she breathed.
“Because it was too hard not to.”
Instead of breezing by me, she lingered there, in the passenger seat of my car. “Oliver?”
“Hmm?” I couldn’t stop staring at her lips.
“You said…You said you might bounce around to different cities after this.”
“Right.” My head was still high from the kiss.
“Do you ever worry about it getting lonely? Living that way?” Her voice was soft .
My jaw froze for a second as my gaze drifted from her mouth to her eyes. The tendon in my neck pulsed. “No,” I said plainly, hoping she’d drop this.
Instead, she gnawed at her bottom lip. “I’m kind of lonely,” Frankie whispered. “It’s sad, but I didn’t even realize it until I came out here to stay with Mattie. Being so busy with my job meant I never noticed it, but my life was so…lacking.”
My hand squeezed the top of the door. Her words were almost physically painful. Both because I fucking hated the fact that she felt lonely, and because I hated the unwanted self-reflection her words were now causing me.
Where the hell did this girl get off, being vulnerable like this? Had I given off the impression I wanted to dissect these things?
My face must have been contorted into one of aversion, because Frankie’s cheeks reddened before her eyes dropped to her lap.
“Look at me. Feeling sorry for myself again.”
“Hey, no self-deprecation on my watch.” I tried to make my voice sound lighter than I felt. But Frankie still wore a small frown. Shit. We were rapidly wandering into uncharted territories for me. I didn’t know how to help Frankie work through her crisis any more than I knew how to help myself and my own suffocated emotions.
I was the guy for a laugh. Not a shoulder to cry on.
But the last thing I could handle was how alone she looked right now. So small in front of me. Right here, yet so far. I hated it. I’d already given her so little of myself, despite the fact that she clearly wanted more. Which was maybe why I said what I said next. Something I’d barely thought. Something I never dreamed I’d say out loud.
I leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. When I pulled back, I said, “I get lonely too.”