2
Gabriel
As I left Jake, my over-confident, over-fit, and over-enthusiastic guide, behind, I seriously reconsidered my decision to come on this trip without Saul. It wasn’t the first time I’d had doubts and it wouldn’t be the last, I was sure. But I’d promised myself I would do this and, goddamn it, I was going to do it. Even if it was six days of absolute fucking misery. Of course, when I’d first decided to come on the trip alone, I hadn’t counted on the guide being a cocky alpha that reminded me altogether too much of Saul – even with the same thick, rust-colored hair. What were the chances of that?
Glancing back over my shoulder, I saw Jake coming up behind me, walking slowly so that he didn’t overtake me. He was looking out at the view and seemed lost in thought, his green eyes squinting toward the horizon. I made a face and went back to watching the path. I knew I was being rude to him, but I couldn’t help myself. After what Saul did, I was pretty much done with alphas. Especially fit, jokey ones who thought they were god’s-fucking-gift. Saul had thought that too – still did, probably. The asshole.
But then I crested the summit and all thoughts of Saul and Jake and alphas in general were swept away. The view was incredible. Boulder glimmered below us and the perfect blue bowl of the sky fell shimmering into the far-off horizon. I’d never seen anything so beautiful.
Then someone walked into me, sending me stumbling forward, straight at the rocky ground.
“Oh fuck!” Jake swore, catching me before I ate dirt. “Shit, Gabriel. I am so sorry.” Holding me tightly by the arms, he pulled me back up to my feet as if I weighed nothing. Well, compared to his muscular frame, I probably did.
We were standing closer than we ever had and I looked up at him, ready to give him a piece of my mind. But, when I saw his expression, I couldn’t quite bring myself to do it. He looked so genuinely concerned, biting his lower lip like a little kid, that I felt bad for him.
“It’s okay,” I said, keeping my voice gruff. I hadn’t noticed it before, but from this distance I could see there were little flecks of gold in his green eyes. “I shouldn’t have stopped in the middle of the path like that.”
Jake blinked, obviously surprised that I wasn’t angry. Slowly, he let go of my arms and took a step back, putting space between us. To my surprise, I felt a little disappointed when his warmth retreated. “Nah, no way. That’s totally on me. I wasn’t looking where I was going.”
“Too busy taking in the view?” I asked.
A surprising blush crept over his cheeks. “Yeah,” he admitted. “No matter how many times I come up here, it still gets me.”
I nodded. “I can understand that. It’s breathtaking.”
“You like it?” he asked, sounding surprised.
I nodded. “I’ve never climbed a mountain before. It may be the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” I admitted.
He beamed at me, his cocky, jokey face transformed into one of pure, child-like happiness. “Just wait,” he said. “The view tomorrow is even better.”
“I just hope I can make it up,” I said without thinking. Even though it was obvious that I wasn’t an experienced hiker, I hadn’t wanted anyone – especially Jake – to know that I was afraid of not being able to finish the trip. Lately, my pride had been hurt enough as it was. The last thing I needed was to get stranded half way up a mountain because of my own weakness.
“You’ll make it up,” said Jake. “Trust me. I’ve seen way worse hikers make it to the top of Vrain.”
I looked at him out of the corner of my eye. “Don’t lie,” I said. “I can’t imagine you get many hikers worse than me on this trip.”
Jake made a face. “Well…” he began, stretching the word out and letting it hang between us. I raised my eyebrows. “Well, no,” he finally finished. “But you’ll still make it up. Just take your time. There’s no hurry and there’s no shame in going slowly.”
I wished I could believe him, but I knew the other guide hadn’t been thrilled at having to go slow enough to stay behind me. “Thanks,” I said, because I didn’t know what else to say, and went over to join the rest of the group.
After a much needed night at the St. Julien Spa – making full use of their massage and sauna package, of course – I woke up the next day feeling sore but ready. Yesterday I’d climbed my first mountain. Today I was going to climb my second, come hell or high water.
I got my gear together slowly, trying to fight back the memories it brought out. Saul and I had bought it all together. He, of course, already had loads of hiking equipment, but I – born and raised in the city – had nothing. We’d spent two days picking out a bag, shoes, special moisture-wicking socks, and I-don’t-know-what-else. That was almost three months ago now, and exactly two weeks before my world fell apart. How had he been able to go shopping with me like that when he knew…
I shook my head. What had happened had happened and there was no use dwelling on it. It wouldn’t change anything. And I refused to let Saul make me miserable. He’d humiliated me enough already.
Grabbing my bag and jacket, I headed out to join the others, intent on leaving my ugly memories behind in the room.
When I got to the meeting point, everyone else was already there. I made a face. I’d have to set my alarm earlier next time. They stood in groups of two or three – Fiona and Juan, the IT couple from San Francisco, Jim and Ted, the couple from I-can’t-remember-where Minnesota, and John, Paul, and Wendy, three friends from Seattle. And me. The odd one out in more ways than one. Not to mention, the only omega in a group full of gung-ho alphas. My literal nightmare.
Not to mention, the others were all fitter than me, their gear showed signs of having been used before, and they knew enough to ask questions about wildlife, birds, plants, and rock formations. I knew the difference between a bird and a plant, but that was about it.
“You all rested and ready for today?” a too-chipper voice interrupted my thoughts and I turned to see Jake grinning at me.
I nodded. It was 6:30 am. That was too early for small talk. And besides, I didn’t want Jake’s pity. He didn’t need to single me out for special treatment.
Thankfully, he didn’t press the matter, just nodded back and continued on his way, corralling the group into the tour bus like we were a bunch of school kids. I sighed. Why on earth had I let Saul talk me into this? I hated organized vacations even more than I hated being outdoors.
Because you were madly in love with him and desperate for him to love you back, a small voice in my head replied to my rhetorical question. I sighed again. Yeah, and that worked out so well.
I had to admit though, as we began our ascent, sleepy muscles moaning and groaning as we forced them up the dirt path, that maybe I didn’t hate the outdoors as much as I thought I did. The air up here was clean and sweet; the high, clear call of the birds was more than a little magical; and, above us, the sky was a beautiful, dusty pearl color as, somewhere on the other side of the mountain, the sun began to rise.
Then we rounded a bend in the path and I gasped.
We’d turned onto a ridge that faced the rising sun. It spilled over the horizon like molten glass, all red and gold, filling the valley below with light.
Everyone brought out their fancy camera gear and started snapping, but I just stared at it. I’d never seen anything like it before. In Chicago, the rare sunrise I saw was drab and gritty.
“Do you want me to take a picture of you?” Jake asked, appearing next to me.
I shook my head. “No,” I replied. “I just want to look at it.” Then I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye. “You guys timed it like this?” It was more a statement than a question.
He grinned and nodded, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his well-worn jeans. With a shrug, he said, “A sunrise like this isn’t something most people ever get to see. And we want people to have a good time. That’s the whole point of these trips. To see amazing shit and do amazing things.” He bit his lip, realizing what he’d said. “I mean…see amazing things…Sorry.”
But I laughed. He’d been caught up in the moment. Like yesterday, it was nice to know that he was a real person under his super-happy guide persona. “Yeah, if I’d known this trip wasn’t going to be PG-13, I would have asked for refund. Jeeze.”
He blinked, looking at me in surprise, clearly not expecting the joke. Then he snorted and began to laugh. But his laugh was high-pitched and almost girlish - more like a giggle. And it was so unexpected coming from a man who was six foot two and built like a house, that I had to laugh as well.
“Sorry,” I said when I finally caught my breath. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to laugh at you, but your laugh…”
“I know,” he sighed, still giggling a little. “I know, I know. Not the laugh you were expecting from possibly the best-looking guide in Boulder,” he joked, referring back to our conversation from yesterday.
But this time, instead of taking the comment as semi-serious, I saw it for the joke it was and smiled. “No, it wasn’t,” I agreed. “Though,” I continued, glancing over my shoulder toward where Matt was explaining something to Jim and Ted. “To be honest, when we were looking at your company’s site, it was actually Matt’s headshot that convinced us to buy the trip.” I wondered for a moment if my deadpan was too expressionless and he thought I was serious.
But then the giggle spouted up and out again and Jake shook his head. “Ouch, Gabriel,” he said when he could keep a straight face. “That really stings.”
I grinned at him, he grinned back and, for the first time in a long time, I felt like a real human being.
“You guys ready to keep moving?” Matt called down the path, interrupting our moment.
Jake flashed me an apologetic smile and went to go confer with his partner, leaving me to enjoy the last of the sunrise. As I stared out at the light-filled valley below us, I was, for the first time, truly happy I’d decided to come on this trip.