by Isabel Morin
“I just got done studying at the cafe, but I could really use a drink, and also some company,” she said, trying not to sound too needy. “If you have a few minutes.”
“Of course,” he said, taking her hand and leading her across the street and into The Watering Hole.
The gesture was so natural, such a mixture of intimacy and friendship it overwhelmed her, and she felt tears threaten to break free. This time they took a booth and Cheryl sat deep inside it, where no one could see her. When the waitress came over she ordered a whiskey, earning an impressed eyebrow raise from Jason.
“Make that two,” he said, leaning forward in his seat and smiling at her. But the smile faded into a frown. “You look pale,” he said, his concern obvious. “You want to tell me what happened out there?”
Cheryl waited until the waitress brought their drinks over. She took a deep sip.
“He knows who I am,” she said.
He looked at her, puzzled. “I know, I introduced you. A fact I sincerely regret now.”
“No, I mean he recognized me from the club. Apparently he went back again after the bachelor party. Anyway, I guess after seeing me take it all off like that, he thought…”
Jason’s expression darkened. “Never mind. I didn’t mean to upset you,” he said, taking her hand.
But she needed to get it out.
“He said I was practically a prostitute, so what was the big deal?”
Jason froze, his jaw tightening and his hands gripped hers tighter as he fought for control. It was a few moments before he could speak.
“Jesus, Cheryl, I’m sorry,” he said. “I wish I could beat the shit out of him again. Or hold him down so you could do it yourself.”
“He’s a creep. But the thing is, a lot of people think that. Guys talk about the VIP room like we have orgies in there, but it’s not like that –”
“You don’t have to tell me that, Cheryl. I would never think that way about you.”
“But didn’t you, just a little bit?” she asked, quieter now. “Something changed after you saw me. I wasn’t the sweet little teacher you thought I was.”
“You’re right,” he admitted, shifting in his seat as if uncomfortable saying it out loud. “I had a hard time wrapping my mind around what I knew of you, and what I saw up there on stage. It took me longer than it should have to figure out that you’re the same person I always thought you were.”
She nodded slowly, grateful for his honesty, even as she felt the pain of his initial reaction again. But it was what it was, and there was no going back and making it sweet and pretty.
Jason had tensed up, and he looked for a minute like he was going to say something more. Instead he shook his head and downed a gulp of whiskey. They both sat quietly for a few minutes, and Cheryl let the slight uneasiness settle around her without fighting it.
She wasn’t sure what to feel about this new place she and Jason were in. In a way they were back to how they’d been before Strippergate. Or some toned-down version of it. They’d both been much more careful and reserved when they climbed together this past Saturday, their subtle flirtation of the first time exchanged for hearty encouragement.
There was no denying that being friends with him opened the door to all the attraction she still felt and refused to give in to. But she was pretty sure they were on the same page now. She clearly wasn’t what he was looking for romantically, and she knew better now than to entertain that line of thinking. Even if he seemed like he accepted who she was and what she did now, she’d never be able to trust that he wouldn’t throw it back in her face some day. She’d seen his true reaction, and nothing could undo that.
So maybe that left them as friends, and that wasn’t such a bad place to be.
“I’m quitting the club as soon as the semester ends,” she said.
She hadn’t been planning to say anything, since it wasn’t his business, but something made her want to tell him.
He looked surprised, and unsure what he should say. Smart man, thinking things through before speaking.
“Well, I hope you rake it in until then,” he said.
“Yeah, me too,” she said, pleased with his response.
She went to take another sip and he raised his glass to hers.
“To raking it in,” he said, smiling a brash, un-English teacher smile that went straight to her belly and hollowed it out.
She raised her glass and drank. “What I wouldn’t give for a week off, somewhere out of town,” she sighed, leaning back in her chair and closing her eyes, weariness overtaking her. “Not that I don’t love your classes,” she added, not bothering to open her eyes.
“We could get away for a bit, if you wanted. What do you say we do some outside climbing? It’d be a good change of scene, and the weather is perfect now.”
She opened her eyes. “I don’t know. I’m not sure I’m ready for actual cliff walls.”
“It wouldn’t be anything dangerous. There are some great beginner routes in Red Rock Canyon. If you’re up to it, we could even go out there on a Saturday morning and camp overnight so we have plenty of time to explore.”
“How exactly would that work?” she asked cautiously. “I mean, would we be sharing a tent, or…?”
“I have an extra tent,” he said, blandly, ignoring all the possible minefields. “I also have a sleeping bag you can use. You don’t need to bring anything but yourself and your clothes, plus some good sunscreen. I’ll take care of the rest.”
“I’d have to find someone to work for me Saturday night, but that probably wouldn’t be hard. A lot of the girls want to work that shift since it’s the best money.”
“Great. I’ll make reservations for the campsite.”
“Full disclosure, I’ve never camped before. Just so you know what you’re getting into here.”
“Really, not even as a kid?”
“My mom was never into that kind of thing, and I never went to camp.” She thought for a second. “I have slept in my car a few times, if that counts.”
“Because you had nowhere else to go?” he asked.
She nodded.
“Then no, it doesn’t count.”
“Well then, I guess you’ll have to help me make up for lost time. We’ll have to do all the typical camping activities. Let’s see,” she said, counting off on her fingers. “Make s’mores, tell ghost stories, whittle… Am I missing anything?”
“That about covers it,” he laughed.
The whiskey had done its job, and she was feeling almost mellow now. Still, she couldn’t help worrying that by standing up for her, he’d screwed things up with his friend.
“It’s none of my business, but what happens now between you and Brad?” she asked. “I’d hate to cause a rift between you two.”
“Nothing happens now. I always thought he was kind of a dick, I just put up with him because I’ve known him so long.”
“Oh, okay. If you’re sure…” she said, feeling guilty despite how unambivalent Jason sounded.
“Do you have any idea how furious I am that a friend of mine did that to you? Every time I think about it I feel like my head is going to explode. We’re done, and good riddance.”
The waitress came over then and asked if they wanted anything else. Cheryl shook her head no and Jason took the check.
“Don’t you dare offer to pay for this,” he said, fake glaring at her across the table.
Cheryl shut her mouth.
As usual Jason let her precede him outside and walked her to her car.
“So I’ll see you at school tomorrow, and you can tell me if you had any luck lining someone up for Saturday night.”
“Will do,” she said, climbing in and smiling up at him.
“You’ll be okay tonight?”
“Yes, don’t worry about me,” she said. But she had to admit, to herself at least, that she was glad there’d been someone to worry about her today.
As soon as she got home she called Paula, a single mother who
was always looking for more shifts. Paula snapped up Saturday night, and Cheryl hung up the phone and did a little dance around her living room, already less stressed just knowing she’d be getting away.
Maybe it was the dumbest idea ever to be spending that kind of time with Jason, but she wasn’t passing it up. It was going to be fun and get her out of her crazy routine for a couple of days, and that’s all she cared about at the moment.
***
Jason knocked on Cheryl’s door at seven o’clock Saturday morning, two coffees in hand. Cheryl opened the door and greeted him with a sleepy smile that turned into a yawn.
“Come on in,” she said, grabbing the coffee from him and breathing deeply of it. “I overslept a bit, but I’m almost ready.”
How was it she looked more adorable every time he saw her? She was fully dressed, but her little blue shorts and yellow long-sleeved top only served to amplify her unbelievable rack and gorgeous legs.
But he needed to keep his cool. He wasn’t going to do anything to jeopardize the friendship they were re-establishing. That meant no ogling, no hard-ons, no innuendo. He was going to be platonic if it killed him. Which it just might.
A few minutes later they were on their way, windows down to enjoy the fresh morning breeze. Red Rock Canyon was only half an hour from her house, so they didn’t need to camp to take advantage of the park, but it would be a lot more fun, especially since she’d never camped before. Besides, it had been a while since he’d done an overnight, and he was itching to sleep in all that open space.
“You swear I won’t fall to my death this weekend?” she asked.
“Um, yeah.”
“Right, sorry. Just making sure,” she said, giving him an embarrassed smile.
“It’s going to be awesome. You’ll see.”
They wound their way through the park, the red cliff faces rising around them.
“Wow, this really is beautiful. Even if I did die here, it would be a good way to go.”
He just looked at her.
Once they got to the campsite he set about organizing it in his usual manner. First, unload all the gear, then set up the tents. They’d face this way…
“Uh, Jason? Are you talking to me, or to yourself? If the answer is yourself, that’s totally fine. I’m just not sure if I should be doing something.”
Why did her teasing make him want to throw her down and kiss the daylights out of her? If she only knew.
“There’s plenty for you to do, Ms. Munro. Come take hold of the other side of the tent.”
Cheryl jumped right in, looking extremely pleased with herself each time she hooked a pole into its loop. She grinned at him, dusty, a little sweaty, and he suddenly wondered how in hell he was going to keep his hands off her.
No. He would not go there. He was a teacher, a trusted member of the community. Desperate, he conjured the image of Yoda in his head. He’d be like Yoda, wise and without attachment to anything, especially gorgeous redheads who’d be sleeping only a few feet away from him.
“Jason?”
“Sorry, what?”
“I was just wondering if we should go explore.”
“Definitely. Let’s get our gear.”
Actually, this was perfect. What could be less conducive to lust than sharp, craggy cliffs? Then he watched her rub sunscreen over her smooth, creamy skin and knew it wouldn’t matter where they were.
“Here you go,” he said, settling her apple green sunhat hat on her head. She looked up at him, her luscious pink mouth smiling with eagerness, and it took everything he had not to lay one on her.
They were one hour into the trip.
He threw all the gear in his backpack and grabbed a couple of extra large water bottles.
“Don’t I get to carry anything?” she asked.
“I’m going to be all manly for now and do the carrying. I want you to enjoy yourself.”
“Are you sure? That looks really heavy.”
“This? Nah. You should see me when I go hiking in the backcountry. I’ve carried fifty pounds of supplies for days at a time.”
Her gaze swept over him, from head to toe and back up again. A thorough inspection that ended with her eyes on his. Maybe he was imagining it, but he was pretty sure he saw a gleam of interest.
“Lead the way, tough guy.”
He took her to an easy route a short walk away, where he climbed to the top and ran a rope through the ring already drilled there.
“Coming at you,” he called down, tossing the rope over.
When he was back at the bottom they changed out of their hiking boots into tight, more flexible climbing shoes and pulled on gloves.
“Let’s get you in the harness and you can go up first,” he said, handing her the harness.
Once she was in he clipped her onto the rope, threading and looping until she was securely connected. He glanced up when he was done to find her looking nervously up at the cliff face and biting her lip.
“You’re totally ready for this, you know. I won’t let anything happen to you, and you’re going to feel amazing when you see what you can do.”
She nodded her head, as if he’d just given her a pep talk before sending her into battle.
“I’m ready,” she said, squaring her shoulders.
And she was ready. As he expected, she had little trouble with the route, making it to the top in less than twenty minutes. As soon as her feet hit the ground she turned to him, beaming and delighted.
“I want to go again. Is there somewhere harder?”
Laughing, he grinned down at her, as delighted with her achievement as she was.
“You bet. Follow me.”
They spent a couple of hours at the next spot, the two of them taking turns climbing. The weather was perfect, the day was perfect, and she was perfect company. He couldn’t get over how she took to climbing, and was amazed at how quickly she gained confidence in her abilities.
By mid-day they’d both worked up a good appetite.
“Want to head back to camp and I’ll rustle us up some grub?” he asked, purposefully sounding ridiculous just to hear her laugh.
She did laugh, just as he’d expected. What he hadn’t expected was the way his heart squeezed, hard and tight, at the sound.
***
Cheryl couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt this good. Pleasantly tired, pleased with her abilities, pleased with the present company. She looked over at Jason, his long body sprawled in the chair. So at ease, so capable, his scruff and lean muscles a pleasant, sexual taunt.
She wasn’t the only one who felt that tug of awareness. Their chemistry hadn’t dissipated, even if circumstances had changed. But he seemed to get that she wasn’t looking for anything else, which meant she could relax and just enjoy being with him.
After a lazy lunch they headed out for a hike, winding their way up onto the cliffs. It was breathtaking, and well worth the effort. Since she no longer had anything to prove, she even let Jason take her hand and haul her up the last steep yards to the top. They sat for a bit, their legs dangling over the edge, then walked along the trail. She’d brought her camera and took what she hoped were artful pictures. She took some of Jason, too, mostly when he wasn’t looking.
For dinner they had burgers he cooked over the propane stove. He’d brought all the fixings, including pickles, potato salad and chips. The temperature dropped rapidly as the sun went down, so she pulled on a sweatshirt and told him not to look while she changed into a pair of jeans. He took this as his signal to get the fire going, a task he approached with utmost seriousness. When it was a roaring conflagration, he turned to her.
“Now comes the whittling,” he announced.
“Seriously? I was kind of joking about that.”
“I could not be more serious. Unfortunately, we can’t go hunting for the perfect stick since there are no fallen branches around here. But I brought my own.”
He went to the Jeep and came back with two long, knobby branches. “For ro
asting marshmallows.”
He handed her a branch along with a jackknife before sitting down and pulling a Swiss Army knife from his pocket.
For a minute all she could do was sit there, humbled that he’d gone to such lengths to please her. Tears pricked her eyes, and she had to swallow several times and breathe through her nose before she felt back in control.
Luckily Jason remained oblivious, too lost in the beauty of knife and stick. She watched him slice away at the tip, examine it, then cut away some more, as if he had a vision he was trying to bring forth.
He glanced up at her, frowning over her lack of progress.
“I can do it for you if you don’t feel like it,” he offered.
“No way. I’ll do it. My stick is going to kick your stick’s ass,” she said, determined to bluster her way through her tenuous emotional state.
She made a big show of opening her knife and eyeing her stick like she had some big plan for it. Jason laughed and bent back over his work. They were quiet for a couple more minutes, but really, it didn’t take as long as she’d expected to whittle something suitable for cooking marshmallows.
When she looked up Jason was watching her.
“Finished,” she declared, holding her stick up for inspection.
“Very nice,” he said, coming over to look, his hands clasped behind his back like an art critic at a gallery. “Good lines, clean strokes. You’re ready.”
With a flourish he pulled a bag of marshmallows out of a duffel bag, along with graham crackers and a bulk package of Hershey chocolate bars. They each speared a marshmallow and held them over the fire.
“You’re ruining it!” Cheryl called out, alarmed when Jason’s caught on fire.
Calmly he held it up and blew it out, leaving a charred, gooey mess that threatened to fall off.
“Not to worry. This is just one school of thought. I like the dark tones a burnt marshmallow brings to my s’more.”
Cheryl let hers get perfectly golden on all sides before she laid it between the chocolate and cracker. Then she took a bite.
“Oh my God,” she moaned, her eyes closing as the luscious flavors flooded her taste buds.
She opened her eyes and licked her lips, then turned to Jason to gush that it was the best thing she’d ever tasted. Except he was staring at her like he might rip off her clothes.
