Chapter 17
PAIGE
Ian trudges up the trail in front of me, his Great Dane strides outpacing my Chihuahua steps two to one. With every dusty step up the mountain, he gets farther and farther away. I feel like Tom Hanks as he watches his volleyball drift out to sea. I want to shout, "Wilson!" but my lungs might collapse if I strain them more than I already have.
Ian pauses ahead of me, and I swear I'm hallucinating as the dirt path levels out to flat ground beneath his feet. Oh mercy! My legs pick up speed with the fortuitous turn of events. When I crest the hill, Ian pulls a bottle of KissaWater from his hiker-grade fanny pack and tosses it to me, but my hand-eye coordination is weak on a good day, so it sails right through my fingers and ends up rolling down the trail.
"I'll get that," Ian says, running after my water bottle like a Navy SEAL on a life-or-death mission.
I take this much-needed time to double over and breathe like a woman on the cusp of giving birth. When Ian said he had a surprise date planned for this Saturday, he wasn’t joking. I was definitely surprised to find out today’s date would include sweating out every ounce of water I’d consumed in the past seventy-two hours.
I straighten, feeling a dull pain in my legs as I do. I don’t know if my muscles can handle much more strain. They still hate me from last Saturday’s rafting trip. It turns out being flung from a raft and churned in a river can leave a body’s muscles feeling like they got shoved in a paper shredder.
I pat my sweaty forehead just as a gust of pine-scented breeze blows past me. The potent smell reminds me of last week's drive through the pine forest with Jordan and Stan. Once Stan dropped Jordan and me off at the raft shack, Jordan went straight for the landline to call his mom, who was safe and sound.
Shortly after, Missy, Ji, and Colton met us at the shack, where they made Jordan and me give them a play-by-play from the moment Jordan and I crashed into the river. We did our best to give them a dramatized version worthy of the big screen, all while excluding any mention of panic attacks or the conversations that followed. Not long after, Stan gave Jordan a ride to his car, and Jordan returned home after stopping to purchase a new cell phone. Meanwhile, Missy, Colton, Ji, and I spent the remainder of the day around the fire pit, laughing about our eventful rafting trip.
Looking at my friends all together, I couldn't stop thinking about everything Jordan was missing out on and the truths he had almost admitted by the river.
“Here you go.” Ian pops next to me and places the water bottle in my hands this time.
"Thanks."
He looks out across the miles of pine and aspen trees below us, breathing it in. "This is absolutely beautiful."
"It's… beautiful." Honestly, I'm having a hard time finding anything worthy of that term at the moment, unless Ian's referring to the dirt road that's been adjacent to the trail this whole time. Now, that is truly beautiful. Why walk up the mountain when we could get there by car?
Ian sends me a heartstopping smile. I flick my hand at several flyaway hairs and try my best to look as L.L. Bean as I can.
"You having fun, Pages?" he asks.
"Mmm." It's the safest answer I've got—not yes, not no. I follow it up with a big gulp of KissaWater.
"Great—we're almost there." Ian points to a large rock structure that's three more switchbacks above us.
"Great." I stuff my inner turmoil down and focus on lifting my sandbag feet one at a time. This time, Ian keeps pace with me as he tells me stories about his hike up Mt. Kilimanjaro. I listen between rapid breaths. Hiking is a new side to Ian, one of many I'm getting to know. Since our “blind” date two weeks ago, we’ve spent a lot of time together. Every day, I'm introduced to new facets of him—some are good, and others… well, I'm on a hike, so that sums that up.
But honestly, Ian is a great guy who I feel lucky to be with. He's kind, thoughtful, and chill, far more chill than I remember. Together, we are like a resting heart rate—strong and steady. I may not get the deep laughs or the thrilling moments like with Jordan, but Ian has a thirst for the world that resonates with me. And his smile… woo-wee. I swear, it could be weaponized to make entire armies weak in the knees.
We reach the rock structure several minutes later and climb to a flat point on the rock to sit and rest our legs. He takes out two granola bars from his pack and tosses one to me—this time, I catch it. I focus on taking deep breaths to lower my heart rate, and when I finally feel like I'm not trying to breathe in deep space, I actually find the view quite pretty. However, I would still choose the car. Always the car.
We sit in silence as we eat and finish our granola bars. Restlessness works its way through me.
"Can I ask you a question?" Ian asks after placing our trash in his pack and leaning back on his hands.
"Sure."
"Where do you see our relationship going?"
My stomach clenches. In some ways, Ian and I have a history that makes our relationship seem miles ahead of its time, but in other ways, we're woefully lacking, especially in the physical department. We’ve spent a lot of time with each other over the past weeks, but not once have we held hands or kissed or defined the relationship, so I knew this conversation was right around the corner.
Between my exhaustion, my emotions, and the unflattering sweat tacos beneath my armpits, I don't feel ready for this talk. But I also don't think I can avoid it much longer. I pick up a small pebble beside me and rub it between my fingers as I collect my thoughts.
Ian and I made a relationship work before, and if I have any hope of getting over Jordan, it is probably with Ian. But if I want any chance of an honest relationship with him, I need to be upfront with him about my true feelings.
I meet his bright-blue eyes. "I want to see where we can go, Ian, and that's why I need to start off on the right foot."
"I want to start off on the right foot too."
I take a deep breath. "When I decided to go on our blind date, I was trying to move on."
Ian leans forward, brushing pebbles and dirt from his hands. "Move on?"
"Yes. For some time now, I've had feelings for… someone else, but that person is not interested, which is why I opened myself up to the blind date. I thought it would be like any other date, a one-and-done deal. Something that would help me take my mind off that person for just a bit. But when I called you, I was surprised how much I actually wanted to meet the person I was talking to. Then it was you ." I gesture at him. "And I really like you."
Ian smiles.
"I just want to be fair and let you know that I do want to see where things go with us, but I also want you to know that I'm still in the process of working through some of those feelings."
Ian's head bobs methodically. "How about this." He leans back on his hands once more and crosses his legs casually in front of him. "How about we don't put a label on anything just yet? We can be just friends for now. You are free to date other people, and I'll do the same. I don't want you to feel pressure to get over someone to make us work. But in the meantime, I’d like to keep spending time with you, and if things progress, they progress."
My heart instantly lightens at his words, pressure dripping off me like the streams of sweat running down my face.
“I’d like that.” I suck in a deep breath, wondering if I dare ask the next question, but I'm on a roll with the open conversation, so I might as well throw all our potential roadblocks out there. “And California?” I ask.
I think of the Z3 team that I started freelancing for this week after my normal internship hours. The Z3 team is fun and quirky, and I feel closer to them than my co-workers in Colorado. I’ve been on their team less than a week, but they are already sending me Zillow links to apartments in their neighborhoods. "If I get the Z3 job but things are going well with us, what would we do?"
"The beauty of my job is that I can work from anywhere. I never planned on staying in Colorado. And there are some beaches around San Francisco that I would be more than happy to live near. So if things continue to progress between us, I don’t see California being a problem. I’d just move too."
The force of his words hit me like a brick. Ian would move for me . My heart should be soaring, but it sinks in my chest like a rock, knowing that Jordan, my best friend in the whole world, probably wouldn't even visit me if I moved.
"You okay?" Ian asks.
"Yeah.” I snap myself out of my thoughts and latch onto his last comment. “What are your favorite beaches near San Francisco?”
“Hmm. Rockaway. Mavericks. Baker. Those are my most frequented beaches, but I like searching out new ones every once in a while.”
“Have you ever heard of Sand Ridge Beach?” I ask curiously.
“No. Is that near San Francisco?”
I nod. “I’ve never been, but from what I’ve looked up online, it looks beautiful.”
“Cool. I’ll have to check it out next time I’m there. Maybe we can go together.”
I flinch inwardly, remembering how once upon a time, Jordan and I were supposed to go there together.
I tuck my feet next to me, and silence settles between us again. For several unbearably long moments, I stare at a bird on a branch and feign a deep interest in the little guy while my brain sifts through questions to ask. But my mind draws a blank. This isn't my usual date where I can rattle off a hundred of my most frequented speed-dating questions. I already know so much about Ian—his past, his family, his work.
Thankfully, Ian puts me out of my misery and starts whistling a unique melody.
When he finishes, I sigh. "That's beautiful."
Ian sends me another of his heart-stopping smiles before prepping his lips for another song.
"This…" Ian whistles the start of a new song that is slow, like a lullaby. "Is a song from Spain." He whistles the rest of the song, and I clap when he's done. "I stayed with a local family while I was there, and the father would play that song on the guitar for his baby girl every night."
"Do you think you'll ever go back and visit them?"
He nods. "I'm planning a trip there next spring. I'll probably hit up France and Morocco again when I go."
"Wow, you really do travel a lot."
Ian smiles at me. "I hope to travel all my life. Live in different countries. Learn more languages. Someday, I want to bring my family to all the places I've been." He squints up at the sun before digging into his pack for a pair of sunglasses.
For a moment, I allow myself to daydream what it would be like to have a future with Ian, living in all these places with our kids. It seems romantic and exciting, igniting a spark within me. I want to see what Ian has seen. I want to experience different cultures and people.
But when I imagine myself with kids in all these places, I see a little boy with Jordan's golden-brown eyes and a girl with Jordan's wavy blond hair. Then Ian vanishes from my daydream, leaving Jordan in his place, and we are not someplace exotic and new. We're in his mom's backyard, and the happiness that fills me in this one simple moment is more powerful than the idea of visiting the farthest reaches of the earth. In that vision, I’m happy where I am, right beside Jordan.
I snap myself out of my fictional future and, instead, focus my thoughts back on Ian. He's intelligent, thoughtful, and well-traveled. He's the whole package. I just need to readjust my expectations. We do this in advertising all the time. We dream big, but in the end, we always go with something more toned down. Realistic. And guess what? We still create amazing campaigns even if the end result is different from the original idea.
I'm in the middle of reimagining a future with Ian when two hikers join us on the large rocky summit. They laugh, capturing my attention. The couple crouches down to take a kissing selfie, but when their lips meet, they end up shocking each other and pulling away.
I chuckle softly as an idea forms. "If there was a perfect song for that couple right now, what would it be?"
Ian follows my gaze to the couple as they readjust for another goofy kissing picture. He shrugs. "I don't know." He blows out his cheeks and furrows his eyebrows in thought. "‘Kiss Me’?"
"By Sixpence None the Richer?"
"Uh, I think," Ian says.
I pull out my phone, scroll through my downloaded music, and find the song "Kiss Me." I turn the volume up, and though it isn't very loud when you add in the wind and chirping birds, it will do. A wave of excitement bursts through me as I watch the couple to see their reaction.
"What are you doing?" Ian stares at me, a look of horror in his eyes. "They'll hear."
"Maybe they'd love it," I say, thinking of the many times Jordan and I have done this and witnessed sweet moments. I smile, feeling a surge of spontaneity rise within me, but when I glance at Ian again, the look in his eyes is unmistakable. He's embarrassed.
"They probably won't even know it's for them," I say, trying to backtrack, suddenly feeling self-conscious. I tap on my phone, stopping the music.
Ian's shoulders instantly relax. "I just don't want to make anyone feel uncomfortable."
I feel like a little girl who's been scolded by her teacher.
Ian must notice because he reaches out and puts a hand on my knee. "I'll tell you what. How about I come over to your house next week, and I'll bring my guitar? I can play you some of the songs I learned overseas."
"That sounds great,” I say before angling my head toward the wind, trying to stave off the red splotching my cheeks.
We both glance around awkwardly until we settle on the view. Eventually, Ian's shoe taps against mine, and he smiles at me. "Do you remember when we found that old tire swing by the library? I wonder if it's still there."
I do remember that swing. After we found it, we went to that swing every time we visited the library, and Ian would push me on it as I read my newest book. But instead of wistful feelings or a wave of nostalgia, I feel something more dense inside as I piece together a new pattern of Ian's. Every time something between us falls flat—a conversation, a joke, a gesture—he brings up memories of our past relationship as if that shared history is a local anesthetic that can dull the differences that seven years apart have created.
It makes me wonder if he's holding onto the hope of the old us as much as I am.