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I’m not sure what to make of the fact that he knew I was texting him looking for sex and stuck with suggesting hiking instead. Based on the way he was just looking at my breasts, attraction isn’t the issue.
“Whatever,” I reply.
His lip curves higher.
Beck drives the same way he does everything else: aggressively and assuredly. Not that I’m complaining. We’re outside the city limits in minutes, flying along mostly empty roads as civilization disappears behind us.
When he exits off the highway, we end up on another tree-lined road. Beck pulls the car over in a dirt parking lot ten minutes later and climbs out, stretching. I scramble out the passenger side to survey the surroundings. It’s just a lot of greenery. Trees, shrubs, saplings, grass, weeds. We could be in the wilderness anywhere.
I’m underwhelmed, and I know it’s obvious on my face. “Why a swimsuit? To sunbathe?”
He shakes his head. “There’s a lake nearby.”
“Nearby?”
The only blue in sight is the clear sky stretching overhead.
Beck points upward to a peak that looks really far away. “That way.”
“You didn’t mention this was an expedition.”
“If you don’t think you can handle it, then we can head back.”
Adler Beck does not know me very well if he thinks I’m going to back down from a paltry challenge like scaling a mountain that looks an awful lot like Everest. Who even knew Germany had mountains that size? Not this American.
“We drove all this way.” I have no idea how far, because Beck drives like he’s taking part in a car chase, but the lack of anything but nature in sight suggests we’re pretty far from the city.
Beck smirks. I narrow my eyes.
Forget him not knowing me well.
I totally just got played.
I follow Beck toward the base of the mountain. I would have forged ahead first, except there’s no obvious entry into the wilderness, no clear path or signs. I grew up in a small southern town where the preferred outdoor activity is sipping sweet tea on the front porch. My experience with hiking is very limited.
As in, nonexistent.
The pavement turns into damp dirt covered with decaying leaves and spotted with fresh sprigs of growth. The scent of moss and sunshine flavors the warm air. Each step I advance deeper into the woods, my apprehension grows. I’m uncertain about following him, but I comfort myself with the thought that this is Adler Beck. He’s beloved. Famous. Rich. Search parties will be sent out. If I stick with him, they’ll rescue me as well.
The climb isn’t terrible, the incline gradual. A leafy canopy above blocks the brunt of the sun. Birds chirp and chat.
Beck seems completely at ease amidst the trees.
“Don’t you live in the city?” I finally ask.
“Right now, yeah.”
“What do you mean, right now?”
“I’d like to get a place with land at some point, like my parents’. I didn’t grow up in Kluvberg.”
“Where did you grow up?”
“The town is called Altenhain. It’s small, about an hour outside of the city. They had a place in the city too, but my dad prefers the quiet. He gardens.”
Two homes. He’s rich rich, I remind myself.
“I grew up in a small town too,” I tell him.
