“You are beautiful.” Dylan smiled.
“So, is this okay or should I change?” I went for the jeans and sweater look.
“You look perfect.” His eyes had this sparkle in them, and he made me feel like there was no one else in the world but me.
“Emily will be right out, Chris. We did literally wake up when you all knocked on the door.”
“Well, you clean up pretty fast.”
“I know I look rough.”
“Shh,” Dylan said. He put his finger over my mouth as if to say, “Stop putting yourself down.”
Before long, Emily came through the door. “So where are we off to?” she asked, getting in the front seat.
Dylan and I climbed in back. Just sitting next to Dylan still gave me goose bumps. He took my hand in his. I sat quietly, too nervous to say anything at first.
We drove through some of the most breathtaking scenery I had ever seen. The mountains’ whitecaps glistened against the sky—such a brilliant blue, it could have been brushed on with the purest of acrylics.
The trees, still painted vivid shades of amber, flashed by as I laid my head against Dylan. His chest felt so warm. Just being there in his arms was worth taking the day off work.
“So, what have you done so far?” Dylan tried to make conversation.
“Besides Seward, Chris took us horseback riding. I made the mistake of telling him I had ridden before, and he almost killed me. But it was breathtaking.”
Chris piped in, “When I asked if you’d been riding before, I meant horseback riding—not just sitting on a pony.”
“I didn’t think we were going to gallop at full speed through the forest at night while trees tried to decapitate me. And I certainly didn’t think I’d be left alone in the woods as prey.” I laughed. “Truth is, going out with you, Chris, and whale watching in Seward have been the best times we’ve had so far.”
“You took them riding at night?” Dylan raised his eyebrow.
“Time got away from me. A picnic and a couple bottles of wine later, the sun started setting. It’s easy to lose track of time with these ladies.”
“I can see that,” Dylan squeezed my hand slightly.
The beauty went on forever as we traveled the Alaskan highway. About an hour later, Chris pulled onto a road off the highway. Soon we passed a sign that read: Alaska ATV Tours: Explore Alaska’s scenic backcountry on an easy-to-operate Honda four-wheeler.
“Oh my god, I’ve always wanted to ride an ATV.” I exclaimed.
“You’ve never been on one before?” Dylan asked, delighted we were trying something new.
“No, this is so awesome!”
“You’ll love it. It’s an excellent way to see wildlife. Do you want your own or would you rather ride together?”
“Are you kidding? I want to drive!”
“That’s great. I love the spirit.”
They geared us up in these goofy-looking overalls and unflattering helmets, but I was so excited, it didn’t matter. I have always wanted to ride an ATV, but never had the money. We traveled the scenic route through the forest in Bird Creek. Dylan and Chris led the way—fast. In no time, we got to a river.
Dylan pulled up next to me. “You have to stand when you go across,” Dylan yelled over the engine.
“What? We’re riding through the river?”
“Don’t let up. Just keep going.”
We were stopped far enough away to give us the speed we needed to get across. I was really nervous.
“I don’t think I can,” I admitted.
“Yeah, I know I can’t,” Emily echoed. The river cascaded fast.
“You can do it,” Dylan assured me.
But I really was scared. What if I stalled in the river? I thought I was doing good speeding through the wilderness over the bumps and mini-jumps, but this . . . this was a little freaky.
“I’m scared. I’m sorry”
“It’s fine, Nicole. Don’t worry, I’ll ride you over.” Dylan patted the back of his ATV. “Come get on mine.”
I peeked at him, then studied the river. “You really think I can do it?”
“I know you can, Nicole.” His face lit up as he encouraged me.
“Okay, then. I want to try.”
“You sure?” he asked. “How about you, Emily? You up for it?”
Emily glared at me as if to say, “What the hell, Nicole!”
Dylan began our instruction. “You can’t let up on the gas till you get to the other side. You have to keep going, no matter what, okay?” We nodded and he continued. “And whatever you do, don’t sit down.”
“Breathe,” I reminded myself. “Breathe.”
“You ready?” Dylan asked.
I revved up the engine, let go of the brake, and stood up, holding onto the handlebars for dear life. As the ATV hit the water, it splashed all around me. Now I knew why we were wearing these goofy, yellow, waterproof overalls. As droplets of water hit my face, the intense cold exhilarated me. All my senses were charged. The world went in slow motion, although I traveled at record speed. Everything intensified as I splashed my way to the other side. Climbing the bank of the river, I had to let go of the gas and put on the break. I had to stop. I’d forgotten how.
“Brake!” I could hear someone scream as I made my way toward some really huge trees.
Shit! “How? I’m going to die.”
“Brake!” Dylan screamed.
I finally found the brake and squeezed it as hard as I could. The ATV flipped over, and I went flying off the front. I laid there for a moment.
“Am I dead?” Dylan, Chris and Emily were hovering over me.
I broke out in laughter. “That was crazy.”
Dylan put his hand on his chest. “You gave me a heart attack.”
“You idiot, you scared me to death!” Emily hit me.
“Are you okay to get up?” Dylan seemed nervous.
“Yeah, I’m fine.” I admit my body hurt everywhere, but somehow I ended up flipping into a thick pile of leaves. I was alive. Dylan leaned over and carefully helped me up.
“I’m fine.” I dusted myself off. “Where to next?” Luckily, I didn’t break anything—on my body or on the ATV.
“Are you sure you okay?” Dylan repeated. “Do you want to ride with me?”
“I’m fine. I really am. That was incredible.” I got back on.
We were off again. This time you could see that the guys were holding back. I think I freaked them out a little bit.
Taking the route across the river up more than 2000 feet to the Hidden Valley made me feel like I could do anything. The mossy, limestone peaks towered over the colorful alpine meadows, embracing this remote valley.
We stayed there for hours absorbing the scenic view, climbing on rocks, and just soaking it all in.
Then we turned in two of the ATVs so we could go faster. From a personal note, I enjoyed having a reason to hold on to Dylan’s body. We took the trails to a place they call the Sanctuary. When we got down the mountain, we decided to take the short hike down to the waterfall.
Chris took out his magic package of wine, and this time also brought an amazing spread. For several more hours, we sat on the picnic blankets talking as we watched moose make their way through trees. From a safe distance, we witnessed bears trying to catch the salmon that had come there to spawn. Lying on the blanket, we watched eagles soar overhead and examined the shapes of the immense white clouds, laughing at the absurdity of our observations.
It was so beautiful, but as my eyes scanned the surroundings, I sat up for a moment. I thought I saw someone watching us. My eyes darted back to a figure hidden in some brush. I stared for a moment, but the figure seemed to disappear.
I opened my mouth to say something to the others but decided it was my imagination. I had been reading too many of those stupid articles on that serial killer and was still a little shaken up by that hunter—that pervert-- Chuck. I took Dylan’s hand for security; he gave my hand a gentle squeeze and k
issed it. I felt safe with him.
It was finally time to make our way back. I held on tight to Dylan as the four of us raced through the woods. The wind stung my face. When we got out of our hideous overalls and got back to the car, Dylan asked if we were ready to go shopping.
“What?” I asked.
“They’ve got some great shops here. Let’s go buy you something.”
“I thought you were joking about that,” I confessed.
“No, there is this shop over here that my sister loves. I’d love to relax a little and just watch the two of you try on clothes.” He put his arm around me.
“You really don’t have to do that. We have had an awesome day.” I held the hand that wrapped over my shoulder.
“It’s not over yet.” Turning to face me, he put his hands around my waist, pulling me close as if I had no choice.
“You will love it,” Dylan began. “I was just there a few months ago when Brenda was getting ready for the wedding.”
“You really don’t have to do this. It really has been an amazing day.” Who is Brenda?
“You will love this place. Let’s go, Chris.”
“Emily, it will be fun. As you all try on clothes, they serve wine. It’s a win-win.” Chris put his arm around Emily.
“Really, it’s fine. You have done enough,” Emily agreed.
“Are you sure? We can do whatever you like—we can see a show, or we can get you all dolled up and go to an elegant dinner. This is your day off. I want to make it memorable.” Dylan smiled at me.
“It has been wonderful, Dylan.” I looked into his eyes and sighed. I so loved being in his arms. “I really have to get back. I promised I’d call home at seven o’clock. The different time zones and all make it hard to get in touch with my parents, so we have to schedule calls.”
I needed to call Jessica before it was too late.
As we got in the car, Emily turned to me, pointing. “Nicole . . . Nicole, look. Isn’t that the guy who tips really good at the club?” She pointed to a sandy-haired guy getting into a blue truck. As we pulled out of the parking lot, the man pulled out just behind us.
“Yeah, I think that’s him. I wonder what he is doing all the way out here,” I replied.
When we got on the highway, I waved to the truck behind us—just in case it was Steve. He didn’t respond. Instead the truck slowly drifted back even farther, as if it were going to turn. Maybe it wasn’t Steve. And then a horrible thought entered my mind. What if it had been Chuck? What if it was Chuck that I had seen in the woods? It was hard to make out who the man was from so far away. I glanced back out the window, but the truck was no longer there.
Dylan leaned against the door, and I lay against him. He wrapped his arms around me, cocooning me in security, as we made our way back to Anchorage. He gently ran his fingers through my hair as we drove. I drifted off to sleep.
When we arrived at the motel room, Emily and Chris said their goodbyes, and Emily went inside so I could say goodbye to Dylan.
“We’ll pick you up in the morning for breakfast and take you to work tomorrow,” Dylan confirmed. He didn’t even try to kiss me goodbye. I was really surprised because of his reputation.
“I had a lot of fun, thank you,” I told him. He had walked me to the door of the hotel.
“I really thought I had killed you for a moment when you flipped that ATV.” Dylan took my hands.
“I thought I had killed myself for a moment. I was a little scared to open my eyes, but what a blast! Really, thank you so much.”
“Till the morning.” He leaned in to kiss me on the check, then gently squeezed my hands, still holding them as he took a few steps backwards, focusing on my eyes.
“Goodnight,” I somehow managed to say.
When I got inside, I was beaming. I lay on the bed, playing with the locket around my neck.
“I guess he’s okay,” Emily admitted. “But be careful. I don’t want you to get hurt.”
Chapter Fourteen
“I just have waited for so long to experience your lips.”
~Dylan Richardson
It had been over a week, and Dylan hadn’t even tried to kiss me, so every touch felt accentuated. When he took my hand or his eyes met mine, a tingly sensation still overwhelmed me—like when my infatuation first began. But this wasn’t just infatuation. It was so much more. Dylan stunned me. Everyone warned me that he was a player, but I had never met such a perfect gentleman in my life.
Every moment we could, we spent our time together. One afternoon, when he picked me up, he told me he had a surprise for me; it was our first date alone. He took my arm and led me to the art museum. Walking through the doors, a sudden anxiety pierced my body. We were entering a world I had long forgotten about. Dylan had no way of knowing the layers of hurt that were connected to anything dealing with art.
I took his hand for security as we made our way to an oil painting from the Victorian Era. Trying not to show my apprehension, I commented on the way the artist used color and light to create intensity.
A lady walked toward us with a tray of wine glasses. We each took a glass and studied the piece.
Mixed emotions taunted me—one of awe at the painting and one of sadness. A piece of me died several years ago, and this was the world I left behind.
A tear started to build like a wave ready to crash to the shore. I quickly wiped it away before revealing any sign of regret. But another started to form, and I realized I wasn’t quite ready to be here.
“Dylan this is so wonderful, but can we leave?” My voice became quiet, weak.
“What’s wrong?”
I wiped away another tear and took a deep breath.
“It’s a long story. Can we please go?” I whispered, my thumb playing with his hand.
“Of course we can. I’m so sorry. I saw the way you lit up on the boat when you saw all the sea animals, and so when I heard Christian Riese Lassen was having his exhibit here, I thought you would like it. He’s a surfer from Maui and is known worldwide for his seascapes. Are you sure you don’t want to see his paintings? I really think you’ll love them.”
“This is so sweet of you, but I do need to leave.”
Another tear escaped my eye, reminding me of the beatings I received when I spoke of art or pursuing my dreams. Unconsciously, my hand went to the ribs that had been separated after Emily and I went to see a Rodin collection. I had no idea why this museum affected me so much. I was safe. Ronald couldn’t hurt me anymore. Perhaps it was because I was surrounded by so much beauty here in Alaska, and I was unable to capture it. Picking up a paintbrush was still too painful. Or perhaps it was the fact Dylan brought me here. It was like he could see into my soul. I never told him . . . how did he know?
I couldn’t speak. Tears rolled down my face, yet my lips didn’t make a sound.
“I’m sorry, Nicole.” He gently wiped the tears from my eyes, kissing my forehead.
I felt stupid. “You didn’t do anything wrong,” I finally managed to say. “This is sweet. This is so sweet.” I glanced up at him. He appeared concerned, mad at himself for somehow hurting me. I bashfully bit my lip, looking into his eyes as I embraced him.
“I’m sorry for being so ridiculous.”
“Shh, I’m the one that is sorry,” His mocha eyes peeked out from his lashes. He examined my lips, tracing them with his fingers.
His stare filled me with such warmth. I studied his mouth—succulent and partially opened. Licking my lips, my head started gravitating toward his, and another tear came to my eyes.
“God, I feel stupid,” I wiped at it as it tickled my cheek. “You must think I’m an idiot.” I took a deep breath, scanning the room to see how many people I humiliated myself in front of.
I knew I needed to get past my anxiety. “Dylan, I’d love to see Christian Riese Lassen’s artwork,” I said with a little sniffle. “Can we try this again?”
He took my hand and we went back into the gallery. We got another glass of wine,
and he took me to Christian’s exhibit.
I stood in front of his piece Tropical Memory. Serene, utter harmony. I loved how he used the whites and colors to illuminate the water and how it was a mixture between the perfection of reality and magic of fantasy. Dylan stood behind me tracing his fingertips down my arms as he did to warm me in Seward. For a moment, I felt we were standing on the deck of the boat as the dolphins danced before us. The art brought the same peace.
From within, a smile began in my heart and took over my face. Tears came to my eyes again.
Dylan brushed the hair off my neck and gently kissed it. “You okay?”
“Now you’re really going to think I’m stupid,” I said, wiping the tears from my eyes. He would never know the gift he gave me. I pulled his arms around me, resting my head on his chest as we studied the painting.
“It is beautiful, so beautiful.” I could feel freedom permeate under my skin. Everyone disappeared as we experienced Christian’s masterpieces.
We began walking through the exhibit, and I stopped at a painting, feeling the warmth come to my face. The title of the piece was Falling in Love Again.
“You are so different.” My eyes moistened. “You are so different than I thought you’d be.” I pulled his arms around me even tighter.
“What do you mean?” He turned my body around so I was facing him.
“I don’t know.” I paused for a moment. “I kind of thought you were a jerk.”
“Well, thank you.” I don’t think that was the response he expected.
“I mean. . . when I met you, you were with a different girl every night. You seemed so cocky. Now you seem so . . . I don’t know . . . this was so sweet of you, Dylan.” I stared at him, trying to read him. “You used to have one-night stands all the time, and you haven’t even tried to kiss me yet. Is this real?”
He gently brushed my hair out of my face. “I come from an uptight family. They try to control me. I guess sleeping around was one way of rebelling. But then I met a girl who made me realize it was meaningless, and I guess I kinda fell for her. I have never felt anything more real.”
The Impostor, A Love Story Page 10
