CHAPTER 17
HOLLY
The stupid, chilly weather is preventing me from fully admiring the sexiness that is Ben Gerhard. Of course, I wasn’t complaining about the cold last night when it gave me an excuse to fall asleep on his lovely, warm chest. But, now, as we make our way through the woods, this late fall air is a real nuisance.
If it were summer, I imagine Ben would be in shorts and a tank top. I’d be able to see his long arms with those corded muscles shifting under his skin. And his calves would be on full display. People underestimate the attractiveness of a nicely toned leg. I’m not one of those people. And the tattoos! I almost forgot about the gorgeous ink illustrations on his skin that I’ve only gotten to peek at.
I want to see them again. All of them.
Instead, I get Ben in long pants, a shapeless navy North Face jacket, and a black knit hat covering up his ruddy-blond curls. Hiking behind him, I can barely even tell it’s Ben. I could be following any random dude through the woods. Good thing I have an active imagination. As we hike up the narrow trail, I revisit images from last night.
That was one of the best sleeps I’d ever had. After the whole talking to a ghost and throwing things like a madwoman incident, of course. When Ben pulled me onto his chest, I was ready to stake a claim. That’s my spot, no one else’s. It’s the comfiest place in the world, and I’m not a good sharer.
At least, with Ben, I’m not.
Thinking of Roderick, which I haven’t done in a while, I remember the quick discussion we had a year ago about our arrangement. I was clear that, as long as he was using protection, I didn’t care who he had sex with. He asked me if I was sleeping with someone else, and I answered honestly. I wasn’t, and I didn’t have any plans to. That was true at the time. The idea of dealing with more than one guy just felt like work.
But spending time with Ben isn’t a hassle. More like a vacation I never want to return from. And the idea of someone else taking a vacation with Ben makes my face hot and my chest ache. Annabelle, the girl who so clearly wants to book a trip, shoves her way into my head.
And why in the world am I thinking about Ben’s ex-girlfriend?
Stupid question. I know why.
I want to be his current girlfriend. I might even want to be his forever girlfriend.
Ben’s the kind of guy who makes me ponder the future, not just the next hook-up. Not that we’ve had any hook-ups.
Sometimes, I get the sense that he’s flirting with me, but then he’s back to joking just as quickly.
In Ben’s mind, we’re just friends, which is how it should be.
My brain finishes its annoying loop of finding myself attracted to Ben, imagining being with Ben, remembering he sees me as a friend, and deciding it’s best we stay that way. Every time, the realization hurts like little paper cuts on my insides.
It’s a matter of minutes before the cycle starts again.
“How’re you doing back there, princess? You’ve been pretty quiet.”
The nickname sends those bastard butterflies ricocheting through my stomach.
“Just enjoying the view.” No need to point out his firm butt is what I’ve been staring at for the past fifteen minutes. “And trying not to hold you back.”
He’s been good about taking breaks regularly, reminding me to drink while taking sips from his own water bottle.
Ben stops and faces me. “If anyone is slowing us down, it’s me. Not really at peak condition anymore.” His comment comes out strained, as if he’s trying for a humorous tone but failing.
“Could have fooled me. If I knew where we were headed, I’d offer to walk in front of you. Keep you at a gentle stroll the whole way.”
He gives me one of those genuinely devastating smiles, like he thinks I’m the most amusing person in the world. “Believe me, I would love to follow behind you.” A flash of something in his eyes causes my butterflies to riot. “But there’s no real map, so I guess I’m the leader.” He focuses a searching gaze on me. “But, seriously, tell me to slow down or stop at any time. You’d probably be doing me a favor.”
My skin tingles as I take in his flushed face and crinkling green eyes. The sight of him is too much to deal with. I need more vigorous walking to calm down my clamoring hormones, which are currently demanding I shove him up against a tree and make out with his enticing mouth.
Where’s a spin bike when you need one?
“Will do, oh fearless leader!” I mask my horniness with enthusiastic comments. “We must forge ahead. I want to see this glorious place of wonder!”
Before we left this morning, Ben claimed our hike would result in a beautiful view, making the two-hour trek there worth it.
“You won’t be disappointed.” Before moving on, Ben takes another sip from his water bottle. The markings on the side let him know how much he’s consumed and how much more he can drink today.
As we continue moving, I consider how his life will change once the donation is complete. First off, no more dialysis. I’m giddy at the thought, but I realize I’m going to miss reading together.
Is that something friends can still do?
Although, maybe after both donations are complete … I could ask him about being more than friends then. We won’t owe each other anything at that point.
I bring up a mental calendar in my mind, wishing I had my physical one with me. Mapping out the upcoming weeks, I figure out the best time to bring the subject up.
The transplant will likely happen during our winter break, so obviously not before then. Then, there’s recovery time, which will be longer for Ben than for me, so that gets us into mid- to late-February. After that, I’ll get the chance to see if he still wants to spend time together as regular friends rather than as donor and recipient. And I could ramp up my flirting and observe how he responds. So, another month for that.
I envision flipping through my calendar. Looks like spring is when I should aim for.
When I get back to my apartment, I’ll pull out my planner and pick an exact date.
With a plan in place, a swell of hope makes my chest lighter. I can suffer now, pine after him in silence, but it won’t hurt so much, knowing that maybe, one day, there’ll be a chance that something could happen. I don’t like waiting, but for a shot with Ben, I’ll sit on my hands and bite my tongue.
Like he knows I’m thinking about him, Ben glances back at me with a questioning brow raise.
Not ready to talk, I simply form my mittened hands into two thumbs-up and pair them with a cheerful smile. He grins and focuses forward again.
Yeah, Ben is worth the wait.
Tonight is the night.
I watch as Holly sidles up to the cliff’s edge, and my heart rate increases. I want to snatch her back from the danger, but instead, I just keep close. Making sure I’m in grabbing distance.
When we broke out from the cover of the forest, her expression was worth every panting breath it had taken to get here. Trees spread in a russet blanket beneath us, and we can see for miles from our vantage point. But this view didn’t come without a cost.
I ache in a way I never did before my kidney failure. When I came here with Grandpa Ben, we’d cross the distance in half the time it took today. Part of me wants to use Holly as the excuse for our slow pace. But, really, it was me.
When I look in the mirror now, I’m less than I was before. Literally. My body has less mass, less muscle. I try to keep in shape, but I’m restricted in what I can do. The strength I used to have is gone. In the past, I could hike for eight hours with only a quick break for lunch. Now, we’ve walked for two, and I know I’m going to need to sit here for a while before we head back.
“This is gorgeous, Ben. Can we eat lunch here?”
I nod, having trouble forming words when she turns her vibrant smile on me.
There’s a flat rock, like a naturally formed tabletop, and the two of us perch on it while I pull the food out of my bag.
“What feast have you brought for me?” She rubs her hands together, and I laugh at her silliness.
“Well, princess, we’ve only the finest selections for your refined palate.”
“Oh, do tell.”
I put on my best haughty British accent and pull items from my bag with a spectacular flourish. “Our first course will be this lovely blend of nuts and dried berries, all gathered and assembled by blind nuns. Then, for our main meal, we shall explore a variety of PowerBars, delicacies prepared around the globe. And, for dessert, our chefs have procured the rarest of fruits. This wonder is referred to by the locals as an ap-pel.”
“It is glorious to behold!” Holly snatches the apples from my hands, as if they were made of gold, and does a great impression of examining them.
I’m the first one to break, letting out a snort. She giggles in return, tossing one back to me. We tuck into our meals, eating in companionable silence, the same way we hiked here.
When we’re done, Holly stretches out her legs and reclines back on her elbows. Now that we’re out of the woods, the sunshine finally reaches us. It warms the air and the rock we’re sitting on to an almost-comfortable temperature. Both of us stare out over the treetops.
“I can’t get over how beautiful it is here. Did your grandfather show this to you?” Holly continues to gaze out over the forest below.
“Yeah. He loved hiking. He’s the one who first told me about the Pacific Crest Trail. Always saying how he wished he’d tried to hike it when he was younger and stronger.” Bet he wouldn’t have screwed it up royally like I did. Veering away from those negative thoughts, I focus on Holly’s original question. “We’d come here in the summer and paint. Just watercolors mostly. Practicing. Or I’d draw. I’m better with a pencil over a paintbrush, but Grandpa was the opposite.”
She nods and doesn’t ask anything else.
But, suddenly, I have the urge to say more. I want to talk about him. I want to talk about him with her.
“He was the one who took me to get my first tattoo.”
This gets her attention, and she gives a half-smile and raised eyebrow. “How’d that go over with your parents?”
“They were pissed when they found out. But I was eighteen.” I shrug. “Nothing they could do.”
“Which one is it?”
“Which tattoo was my first?”
She nods. I hesitate but then start to unzip my jacket, experiencing the same raw nerves I did in the car weeks ago when I went to unbutton my shirt for her. I’m revealing an important part of myself, and I want more than anything for her to understand it.
“Actually, my grandpa was kind of the inspiration for it.”
Even with the sun, the autumn air chills my skin, working its way through my long-sleeved thermal when I shrug out of my jacket. It’s going to get worse in a second.
“There aren’t any books in the cabin, but that’s because I took them all when he died. He read to me all the time when I was a kid. One book was his favorite.”
I pull up my shirt, revealing my rib cage on the right side. There’s a whole series of images there, but I point to the one I want her to see. It’s of an old dog with shaggy hair and drooping tail but with one ear perked. Behind the dog is the shadow of a man.
“The Odyssey. There’s a scene where Odysseus finally makes it home, and his dog is the first to recognize him right before he dies. That image stuck with me. So, I drew it. A bunch of different ways. Finally ending on this one. And, when Grandpa Ben asked me what tattoo I wanted to get, I felt like it had to be this.”
After giving her another second to look, I let my shirt fall back into place and thrust my arms into my coat. But, even with my clothing shielding me again, I am exposed.
If she wanted to, Holly could really do some damage at this moment.
“That piece … I don’t want to say it’s beautiful. Because that’s not right. It’s … haunting. Yeah. Haunting.” She leans forward and squeezes my arm, so I meet her eyes. “You’re so talented, Ben.”
With her face close and the warmth of her words, I’m at risk of becoming drunk on Holly. This would be the time to lean in and capture her lips, but she pulls back before I can focus my mind enough to make a move.
“I’ve never read The Odyssey. I’ll have to add it to my list.”
I watch as she stands and brushes some dirt off her tight jeans. My teeth bite into my lower lip as she smooths her hands over her backside, innocently looking for debris.
Clouds drift across the sun, lowering the temperature.
“Time to head back.” I collect our trash, shoving it into my backpack, suddenly eager to return to the cabin.
Holly’s smile is small and a bit regretful. She turns to face the overlook, spreading her arms wide, as if to embrace the whole scene. “Good-bye!” Her call echoes over the expanse, fading as my grin grows. With a firm nod, she turns back to me. “Ready.”
We fall into an easy, slower pace once we’re on the trail again. I listen to her breathing behind me, the crunch of her steps, and imagine I can feel the heat of her on my back. I wonder if she looks off into the trees as we walk or if she stares at me. I know, if she were leading, my eyes would see nothing but Holly for as long as I followed her.