The sun was just dipping behind the Front Range when Teagan pulled into her alley and parked in her spot, next to Ben’s old Ford Bronco. Her butt was numb for sitting for so long, and her mind scrambled from too many hours staring at the road.

Yet, despite her journey home being as long as the one that took her to Tucson, it didn’t feel as long. Driving through the Arizona desert, she’d taken a more appreciative look at the landscape, the sandy desert floor and the tan mountains shimmering in the light of the morning sun. So vast it was, with its own unique beauty.

And Aaron. She could still feel his hands on her, the taste of his lips on hers, the feel of him inside her. She may be off men, but she liked being on that one, even if only for one night.

She got out of her truck and stretched before grabbing the essentials—her duffle bag, purse, computer, and telescope. The rest she’d leave until the next day. All she wanted was to take a shower and catch up on sleep. Inside, her place felt hot and stuffy. Sometime between leaving days ago and returning that evening, summer had arrived in Denver. She opened the windows to air the place out and turned on her swamp cooler. Before she could even unpack, there was a knock at the door. She peeked through the peep hole to find Ben’s face.

“About time you got home,” Ben said. “I was starting to worry.”

“I’m fine. I just decided to stay a little longer.”

“You feel like having a beer?”

As tired as she was, a beer sounded good. “Sure. Just give me a few minutes to take a shower. I’ll meet you on the porch.”

Refreshed from her shower, Teagan grabbed a summertime wheat beer and joined Ben. He was already slouched in his hammock and Teagan pulled her chair over to his side of the porch. It was warm but comfortable out and the air smelled fragrant. She lit the citronella candle on her table; Denver wasn’t notorious for mosquitos, but they loved to hunt for fresh blood at dusk.

“How are things?” she said. “What did you do while I was gone?”

Ben picked up his bong. “You mind?” When Teagan shook her head, he lit it and took a hit. “Worked. The bar was busy, now that it’s warm out and we got the patio opened up. Hung out with Beth. Fought with Beth…”

“What happened?” She’d heard Ben and Beth argue before. Their shared wall was pretty thick, but even it couldn’t block out their raised voices.

He shrugged. “She wants to move in. I’m not ready.”

“Why not?”

He paused, taking another hit. “I don’t know. We argue… about stupid stuff. She wants to get married and that’s the furthest thing from my mind right now. It’s like she thinks if we move in together it will change things. And part of me wonders if she just wants to move in because she hates her roommate.”

Teagan sipped her citrusy beer. “Well, neither are good reasons for moving in together. But you need to ask yourself if she’s got future potential for you. Because if she doesn’t, you shouldn’t string her along.”

Ben thought about that. “It’s just… marriage. It’s so permanent. Until it isn’t,” he added, glancing at her.

“Don’t use me and Shawn as an example. There are good marriages out there.”

“Yeah? Who?”

“You never hear about them. You only hear about the bad ones.”

“You think you’ll ever do it again? Marry, I mean?”

Teagan considered that. “I don’t know. I’d like to say yes, but the truth is… I don’t see it happening for me. I just can’t go through that again, that rotten feeling when you watch it all crumble after the years you put in and the compromises you made and the expensive wedding…” She stopped herself. “Shit. I’m only making your commitment-phobia worse, aren’t I?”

“It’s not commitment-phobia. It’s reality.” Ben took another hit from his bong. “How was Arizona? Besides ugly and hot as shit?”

“Hot, yes. Not ugly, though. It’s beautiful, in its own way.”

“If you say so. How’d comic con go?”

“I sold enough books to break even, and I met some cool people.” Or one cool person in particular.

“Get laid?”

She made a face. It was a joke Ben often made and expected no answer to, but she hoped her face wasn’t as red as it felt.

“That’s what you should be doing,” Ben went on. “Going out of town, hooking up with a few dudes, and then coming home. I know women do that shit when they travel, when there’s no one around to judge them or gossip, and they don’t have to deal with the guy ever again if they don’t want to.”

“That’s very true.” She tried not to smile.

Ben eyed her. “What’s up there, McAlister? Did you hook up?”

She sighed. She never could hide how she felt. “I did.”

“Nice! It’s about time. No more being off men.”

“Oh, I’m still off men. But you said it yourself. I can hit it and go home.”

Ben laughed. “Was he some University of Arizona frat boy or something?”

“No! Eww. No, he was a cool guy, actually. Smoking hot, too. Just not my type. He’s fresh off a divorce, so we were kind of on an even playing field.”

“How’d you leave it?”

“I thanked him, said goodbye, and left.”

Ben nodded in approval. They sat in silence for a bit, Teagan remembering Aaron standing there in his shorts, watching her as she left, probably relieved as hell that he didn’t have to kick her out. Soon, sleepiness hit her.

“I’m exhausted.” She stood up. “Time for me to hit the hay.”

“See you tomorrow.”

Teagan went inside, placed her beer bottle into her recycling bin, and fell into bed.

At six o’clock, Teagan finally shut down her computer. She sat there for a few minutes with her eyes closed. She knew she should get up and go hiking, but she was wiped out.

It wasn’t just her nonstop writing marathon. She’d checked her book sales that day; they weren’t terrible, but they weren’t anywhere near where they needed to be, and her checking account reflected that. If things didn’t turn around soon, she’d have to teach full time in the fall, severely curtailing her writing time. And the less time she had to write, the fewer books she could publish, which meant it would take far longer to generate a full-time income as an author.

She’d always known it wouldn’t be easy. Making a full-time living was something many authors aspired to, but never achieved. Yet, she’d done everything the experts told her to do—she’d been patient, she’d put out good quality books, she’d gotten good reviews, she’d marketed wisely—and she thought she’d be earning more by now.

She looked outside. The clouds from an afternoon thundershower had cleared. She needed a hike. It would clear her head and dissolve her worry.

Dressed in her hiking gear and her hydration pack filled with water, Teagan got into her truck and drove west. On the way, she noticed that her “check engine” light was on. It had lit briefly on her way back from Arizona, but she didn’t pay it much mind, given that the long trip, hot weather, and AC had probably taxed her engine. It was probably nothing. She’d heard somewhere that even a faulty gas cap could trigger the engine light.

On her hike, the foothills smelled of damp brush after the rainstorm. Wildflowers dotted the hillside. She felt better already as she began her climb, and she kept an eye out for rattlesnakes after their encounter in Tucson. When she heard mountain bikers coming, she scooted to the side to let them pass. They tumbled down the bumpy trail, passing her and making it look easy. She had a mountain bike and rode it from time to time, but she preferred relying on her feet to explore the trails. When the last biker passed her and thanked her for yielding the trail, the bike suddenly skidded to a stop.

“Teagan?”

Teagan peered at the woman in spandex, trying to figure out who she was underneath her helmet and sunglasses. Then she recognized the olive skin and gleaming smile.

“Diana!” Teagan rushed over and hugged her good friend, the one she’d known since college. “What are you doing in Denver?”

“I came out to visit my brother and his family for the weekend. Sorry I didn’t call… it was a last-minute decision and I was going to call you tonight.”

“No worries. How’s work? How’s Grand Junction?” Diana was born and raised in Grand Junction, and she worked for the city’s school system as a school psychologist.

“Junction’s hot, but work is good! The kids are on summer break, which means I can relax a little. How’s the writing coming?”

“Not bad.” She decided to put off telling Diana about her woeful sales until they had more time.

“Glad to hear it.” Diana glanced down the trail, her riding buddies long gone. “I better catch up. Do you have time for dinner this weekend?”

“Of course. Give me a call.”

Diana smiled, giving her another hug before she clipped back into her pedals and took off down the trail.

“It’s your transmission,” Joe said, cigarette hanging from his mouth as a cloud of smoke surrounded him at Joe’s Auto Repair.

Teagan let out a breath. Not that. Anything but that. “It’s going to cost me, isn’t it?”

“Probably.”

“How much?”

“I don’t do trannies. Nate does ‘em, though. He’s a good guy. Nate’s is right around the corner from here.”

Nate’s news wasn’t any better. Her transmission needed rebuilding, to the tune of $3600. Teagan sat down when she heard the news, tears coming to her eyes. All that money. Money she didn’t have.

“I don’t usually see this problem in Toyota trucks,” Nate said. “But it happens, especially when they get up there in miles.”

Teagan called Ben and asked for a ride home, relieved that he was off that night. Fifteen minutes later, she’d left her truck, her key, and her credit card number with Nate and got into Ben’s Bronco.

Ben shook his head. “Fuck, dude. That sucks.”

She heaved a big sigh. The setback would wipe out most of the money she’d saved to get her through the summer without teaching income. She had no choice; she’d have to pay with a credit card. And she’d have no car for a week, which meant no hiking or going to the mountains. In summertime, no less.

“Don’t worry,” Ben said as he drove them back home. “You can borrow my ride if you need to.”

Teagan smiled at the gesture. “Thanks. That’s sweet of you.”

Ben said nothing. He was a talker who spoke his opinion on most things, especially when riled up about Beth’s quirks or Colorado’s ever-evolving cannabis laws and regulations. But he stayed quiet during the few times he’d seen her upset. Maybe he didn’t know what to say and feared saying the wrong thing, or maybe he knew there was nothing he could do to help. For some reason, his silence reminded her of Aaron.

Aaron had invaded her thoughts several times in the weeks since her return from Tucson. Like when she set up her telescope in the backyard and invited Ben and their neighbors to stargaze. Or when she saw someone walking a cute brown dog in her neighborhood. Or when she combed her wet hair after showering, recalling Aaron hoisting her onto his vanity for a few minutes of passion. What was he up to? What was his work like? It didn’t matter, of course. But she wondered just the same.

When Ben pulled into his parking spot, Teagan thanked him for the ride. She changed into her short shorts, the ones she only wore at home, and plopped down on the couch with a bowl of chocolate brownie ice cream to consider which Star Trek episode to watch. She needed something inspiring, perhaps one of the more character-driven episodes where Data the android struggles to become more human. Just as she picked one, her phone made a strange sound. When she checked it, she had a Facebook notification.

Aaron Slater wants to be friends with you on Facebook.