by Becky Monson
Chase has on some board shorts with a blue Hawaiian pattern and a white T-shirt. Also those aviator glasses that I find so endearing. He’s carrying a backpack with towels, water, and some lunch for us. He’s quite prepared. I like that about Chase. He’s always thoughtful about what I might want or need.
It feels nice to be out here after being in the shop all week, to feel the light breeze on my face and the hot sun overhead.
“Helping me how?” I ask.
“You know … to get your mojo back?”
I think about that. It’s the first of May, so that means only two weeks until jump time. I’d love to say that all this adventuring with Chase has caused some awakening in me and the jump sounds like something I could do in my sleep … like the old me. But the thought of it—going up in that tiny plane, so high up, all of us jumping, sending my mom’s ashes into the sky—still causes tendrils of anxiety to run through me.
“I don’t know,” I say.
“But you think you can jump,” he says.
“I mean, I have to,” I say. I’m resigned to do it. I don’t think I’ll choke, because I can’t let myself have the option.
“What about you?”
“I think I’m becoming an adrenaline junkie.”
I snicker. “That could become an issue,” I say. “Has it … helped you with things?”
I skirt over what I really want to talk about, knowing he’ll understand me, hoping maybe he’ll open up about how he’s feeling. Even if just a little. He’s only given me tiny tidbits here and there. And even those might just be things I’ve picked up on, not things he’s actually said. Like a look I’ve seen on his face a few times, or his eyes going unfocused for a moment.
He lifts a shoulder and lets it drop. “It’s helping.”
That’s it? I will him with my brain to tell me more. Come on, Chase, open up.
“Not sure I’ll be able to keep this up in London,” he says, and my heart does a little dropping thing at his immediate change of subject.
“Sure you can; plenty of things to do there.”
“Have you been?”
“No,” I say.
He does that slight smile. “Well, whatever I do find, it won’t be half as fun without you there.” He bumps my side with his as we walk on the path.
“Please. You’ll find some cute British bird to keep you company,” I say. And then feel a little drop in my stomach at the thought. I don’t want Chase to find someone else to hang out with. It’s a ridiculous thought, really. How selfish of me.
“Hardly,” he says. “I’ll be working a lot.”
I’m bummed that he’s leaving. I’ve become so used to having him around, I think it’ll feel a little like withdrawal when he’s gone. At least we already have a texting thing going, so we’ll still have that. But with the time difference and his work, I know it will be different. Gone will be the days that I text him and get an almost immediate response. And I’ve come to rely on Chase a lot for my sanity.
“And how was Cooper’s yesterday? Get any new cars in that I can come sit in?” Chase asks this as we get to a sign that says we’re at the halfway point. There’s a split in the trail and I follow him when he takes the one to the left, past a sign that says Coconino National Forest.
“Oh yes, we got a new Ferrari F-eight Spider in yesterday,” I say.
Chase lets out a whistle. “How much would that put me back?”
“About two hundred and fifty k.”
He waves a hand at that. “That cheap?”
“So cheap.”
“And Dawson?” he asks. He sounds almost like it was hard to get the words out.
“He’s … good, I think,” I say.
I haven’t told Chase about the Dawson kiss yet. I was planning to today. But … I kind of don’t want to. I don’t know why. Maybe it’s because I haven’t decided what I think about it.
For Dawson’s part, he’s been pretty darn cute. Coming by my office just to say hi or going out of his way just to talk to me. We’ve had some actual conversations now that Chad is gone. Or maybe because we’ve moved past something now. Some invisible barrier that was there, but is gone now that our feelings are out. Well, I’m pretty sure I know what his feelings are. I’m just not so sure about my own. Am I one of those girls that once she gets what she wants, no longer wants it? Is it just the chase for me? I don’t think that’s the case, since my feelings for Dawson had started to wane even before that kiss.
I talked to Hannah about it, of course. We stayed up late the other night discussing. I thought if anyone could help me figure out how I’m feeling, it would be her. Instead, I was more confused. She didn’t seem all that excited, like I thought she would be. I thought she’d be cheering and telling me to Get on that right now! But she didn’t. Her conclusion was that maybe it just wasn’t our time. Not very helpful.
“How was work for you?” I ask Chase as we walk along the trail. The landscape is starting to change from flat and sprawling to redder and rockier as we walk. It reminds me of Sedona, with the beautiful red rocks and the green trees surrounding them; the backdrop of the clear blue sky only makes the colors more vibrant. It’s gorgeous here. My mom would have loved it. I can see her here, holding her arms out wide, telling us all how lucky we are to be living near such a beautiful place.
“Also boring,” he says. “I’m so tired of training.”
“Thank goodness for my clever texting.”
“Yes. Couldn’t survive without you.” He turns his aviator-clad gaze on me, giving me a bright smile.
We chat as we follow the trail as it wraps and weaves around large boulders. We end up walking single file on a narrower part, a wall of red rock on one side and a pretty big fall on the other. This part is starting to feel more like a hike, with the smaller trail and the uneven terrain.
It’s just as I’m starting to wonder if we’ll ever reach the swimming hole, sweat dripping down my back from the workout and the heat of the noonday sun, that we come upon it. The trail lands on a flat rock of sandstone, and when we get to the edge, below and across from us are various platforms of flat stone, and at the bottom, a crystal-clear pool of water. It’s … amazing.
“Wow,” Chase says as we look down at the oasis below. It looks like a crack in the earth with all the rock surrounding the water. The name makes more sense.
There are only a handful of people around. Some lying on towels on flat rocks under the sun. No one is swimming in the hole, but I watch as a couple jumps from the highest rock, plunging into the water. They’re screaming and gasping when they come up for air. Must be cold water, which makes jumping sound even more appealing after the heat from the hike.
We make our way down to one of the lower sandstone pads, closer to the water. We find an empty area and lay our towels out, claiming the spot.
If anyone was paying attention to us, we’d look like a couple that’s been together for a long time. Sitting here on our towels, Chase reaching into his backpack and handing me a water, me reaching over and tousling his hair after he makes another joke about the Crack.
There’s a level of comfort with Chase that I’m not sure I’ve experienced with another human before. Certainly not with Dawson.
“You ready to do this?” I ask him.
“Hell, yes,” he says. That half-grin back on his face.
I really do love that smile of his. It makes me feel like everything is right in the world. My stomach takes a dive again. He’s leaving. Going to London for six months. I really don’t want him to go. He’s become such an important person in my life. I think about him all the time, wondering what he’s up to, what he’s thinking about. The great thing with Chase is that when I get those thoughts, I just text him. I don’t overthink anything or try too hard. It’s so easy with him.
It’s nothing like what I experienced with Dawson. All those sweaty pits and palms. All that anxiety.
A thought jumps out at me that makes me freeze in place. Do I have feelings
for Chase? Is that what this is? Was Dawson right?
“What’s wrong?” Chase asks, a look of concern on his face. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
I take in a breath. “Totally fine.” I’m being an idiot. That’s not what’s happening here. And yet … “Should we jump?” I say, the words rushing out of my mouth.
He gives me a strange look. “Sure.”
We stand up and I take off my shorts and tank in a hurry, leaving them on my towel. I decided to wear a one-piece today since jumping off cliffs can cause lots of wardrobe malfunctions with a two-piece. I don’t know this from experience, but Chelsea does.
Chase gives me an appreciative look. A double eyebrow raise, that half-smile on his face. It makes my stomach do a weird diving thing.
I just need to jump in the water. All this heat has gotten to my brain.
Chase takes off his shirt and, for the love of all that’s holy, my mouth goes dry at the sight. He’s very … fit. There are abs—not the kind that are super defined, but they are there and, wow, they are pretty.
I swallow and move my gaze away, trying to act relaxed, like his shirtless shape didn’t have any effect on me at all. Chase is handsome—I already knew that—but he just went from attractive to … well, hot.
“Do you want to jump together or separate?” I ask him. I must focus on the task at hand and nothing else.
“Together, of course,” he says, giving me that slight smile again. “Wouldn’t do it without you.”
Together. Right. I can do this.
We make our way over to one of the lower rocks that we’ve seen plenty of people jump from. I keep my focus on not hurting myself as we climb up to the spot. I walk to the edge and look over. It’s a good twelve-foot jump. No big deal.
“Okay, let’s do this,” I say to Chase when he comes to stand next to me. “Three, two—”
“Wait,” Chase says, grabbing my hand and pulling me back from the ledge. “Where’s my kiss?”
“Kiss?” My mouth goes dry again.
He pulls his brows inward. “For good luck?”
“Oh, right.” I lean over and give him the barest of kisses. Like, he might not have even felt it, it was so light.
“That felt unlucky. Better do it again.”
“Fine,” I say, acting more annoyed than I really am. I lean in and kiss him on the cheek, this time letting my lips linger just slightly longer than I normally would. Somehow this is worse. It feels too intimate, and my brain is sending off thoughts that I’m not sure I want to be thinking right now. “Happy now?” I ask, making my tone extra sarcastic.
“Very,” he says. “Okay, on the count of three.”
We walk to the edge, he counts down, and we jump. Down, down, down into the water.
It feels like jumping into ice, the water is so cold compared to the heat we were just in. When I come up to the surface, I let out a little scream.
“It’s freezing,” I say when I see Chase bob up. I’m kicking my legs around, trying to get my blood pumping again.
Chase whips his head back to get his hair out of his face. “It is,” he says, his words coming out breathy.
We swim over to the side and pull ourselves out of the water, the heat of the day having little effect.
“Oh my gosh,” I say, feeling shivers from head to toe. “Are my lips blue?”
“They’re a little blue,” he says after examining my lips. “Come here.” He pulls me into him, wrapping his arms around me, my cold wet body up against his. I’m too cold to wrap my brain around this, being in his arms. But I’m coherent enough to know I like it. It’s not long before our bodies, with help from the sun, start to heat back up.
“I don’t know if I can do that again,” I say, my cheek up against his nice firm chest. I’m warming up but still not warm enough to pull away from him. I also kind of don’t want to. I kind of want to stay here forever. Crap.
“We have to do the thirty-foot one,” he says. “We came all this way.”
“I don’t really feel like dying today.”
“How about this,” he says. “Let’s go back to our towels, eat lunch, lie out and get nice and hot, and then see how we feel.”
I agree to this and allow Chase to take my hand and guide me back to our spot. Once there, I wrap myself up in my towel and sit on the warm sandstone, letting the heat of it work its magic on my body.
“I love heat,” I say.
“Me too,” says Chase. He’s lying out on his towel, his eyes closed. He’s drenched in sunlight from head to toe, making him look almost as if he’s glowing.
“I need sunglasses. Your butt-white skin is blinding me right now.”
He doesn’t even open his eyes. “Like what you see?”
“No,” I say, but it comes off a little too emphatic, especially since I was staring at him and I did like what I was seeing.
Better go douse myself in cold water again.
~*~
“I can’t believe I let you talk me into this.”
After an hour of lying in the sun and then eating the lunch Chase packed, which consisted of a yummy ham sandwich and some chips, Chase works his charms on me and convinces me to do the tallest cliff jump the Crack has to offer.
“You can do this,” he says.
“I know I can do it,” I snap back. “I just don’t want to.”
“Come on,” he says, grabbing my hand and pulling me toward the edge. I use my weight to try to keep my body in place, leaning away from him, but somehow he’s still able to get me closer to the ledge.
“Do you want to count down, or do you want me to do the honors?”
“I don’t want to do this at all,” I protest, removing my hand from his.
“For me?” he asks, and pushes out his bottom lip, giving me the same look Alice gives me when she’s trying to manipulate me into doing something. Works every time with her. I’m falling for it this time too.
“Fine,” I say, shaking my head and rolling my eyes.
“Thank you.” He gives me a broad smile.
We walk toward the edge, our toes nearly hanging off the side of the smooth sandstone. I look down, and it’s a pretty significant drop.
“You ready, adrenaline junkie?” I say, looking over at him.
“I need a kiss for good luck first,” he says. Pointing to his cheek.
“You don’t really deserve one,” I say.
“Just give me a kiss, woman.”
I’m standing so close to him, I barely have to lean in to kiss him. Just as my lips are about to meet his cheek, he swings his face around, and instead my lips meet … lips.
It’s a quick kiss. Just slightly longer than a peck. It’s the second time this week that a man has stolen a kiss from me. But unlike the one with Dawson, I find that I wish this kiss were longer; I want there to be more.
Chase gives me a devious little grin after, his nonverbal reply to what I’m sure is a very deer-caught-in-headlights expression from me. Then he turns, counts down from three, and we jump.
Chapter 26
He never kissed me again. I thought there might have been a moment after the second frigid plunge, when he held me again to help warm me up. That time, it wasn’t just his body heat that helped—his nearness had my heart beating double time and my blood pumping again.
As we hiked back to the car, the sun setting along the way, I started to wonder if it was all in my head. Chase never said anything about it, never once brought it up. I almost asked, but then didn’t. It was just a kiss … that I still keep thinking about.
It’s now Sunday night and he’s been texting me all day, just like old times, and it kind of annoys me. I think I want him to think of it as more. I think I want it to mean more. How did he go from Chase to Chase?
Hannah and I are currently sitting in our mostly dark apartment, The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills playing on the television. Trashy reality TV is one of our favorite things.
“I think I like Chase,” I blurt out
during a commercial, no longer able to keep it in.
“Oh, yeah?” Hannah says. “Glad you finally caught on to that.”
I swing my head to her, the light from the TV dancing around her face. “What?”
“It’s been obvious to me for a while,” she says.
“And you didn’t think to tell me?”
She reaches over and pats me on the hand. “Oh, sweetie,” she says, her voice full of faux condescension, “you needed to realize it for yourself.”
“Well, I do now. And … he’s leaving.” I slump back in my seat.
“Only for sixth months.”
“That’s a long time.”
“You’re also assuming he likes you back.”
I whack her on the arm. “You’re supposed to be my best friend. My cheerleader, remember?”
“I’m just keeping it real.”
“Do you think he does?”
She contemplates this for a second. “I don’t know. I haven’t spent all that much time with him.”
“That’s true.”
She pats my hand again. “What does your heart tell you?”
I pull my chin inward. “Since when do you care what the heart says?”
“Well … I have one. I’m pretty sure.”
I take a breath. “What do I do?”
“Tell him,” she says. “See what happens.”
I feel a tiny jolt of anxiety at the thought of telling him, though it’s not the heart palpitations and sweaty pits I used to get around Dawson. It may not even be anxiety, what I’m feeling now. It’s more like … excitement. I want to tell him. And I don’t know if he reciprocates, and I don’t seem to care all that much. Why is that? Shouldn’t I feel the same as I did with Dawson? I tell Hannah as much.
“I have a theory,” she says.
“Do tell.”
