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Looking over the mountain range, Jake’s expression gets suddenly serious. “You can’t get this in L.A.”
He’s right about that. The beauty of this place always does take me by surprise. I don’t know why. I grew up here. It wasn’t all bad. There are horse drawn sleigh rides during Christmas and the most spectacular fireworks in July. There’s clean air and soul inspiring vista’s like this one.
“Yeah, but you don’t have the Getty Museum and sushi on the Sunset Strip at midnight. You don’t have the Hollywood Bowl and Malibu Cove.”
He turns to search my face. “And you can’t live without sushi at midnight?”
I swallow, knowing full well what he means. I can live without sushi at midnight. I can live without all of it, but I’m pretty sure I can’t live without him.
“Depends…”
“Ready to keep going?”
I nod. This is more than a hike, this is us on the precipice of something big.
Jake offers an outstretched hand while I gaze at the intricate pattern tattoo on his forearm. It’s as familiar to me now as my own arm. We climb the rest of the way with very little talking, both of us have to reserving our energy. Or maybe it’s the knowledge that it’s time to put our cards on the table.
My column is gaining readers every day and the Blackhawks want him desperately. How long can we continue to live in this bubble of bliss without the outside world sneaking in.
“This is it,” he says when we finally reach a clearing at the top of a peak.
Jake slides his sunglasses to the top of his head and looks over his shoulder at me with a spark in his eyes. He drops his much heavier backpack and comes over to take mine.
From this vantage point you can see all three lakes with crystal clarity. The sun is so strong at this altitude that I can’t even take off my sunglasses. Ducking my head, I blink to give my eyes a rest and spot a small flat rock a few feet away. There’s writing on it. Faded. Barely legible.
I love you always.
“I’ve thought a lot about what you said––about your grand adventure.”
My attention snaps back to the man I love, my guts fluttering with nerves.
“When I was living in the projects with my mother I used to collect plastic bottles and cans for money. We needed it, but it was more than that. It was a way to keep my mind busy. A lot of the kids in my building were into some bad shit and my mother never like me hanging with them…anyway, after my contract with the Bears, I traveled a lot in the off-season. Thailand, Italy, Norway. I guess I was looking for a grand adventure too.” His earnest gaze meets mine. “But you know what…” He shakes his head. “It was no better than hunting for those bottles.
“I love you. I love you so much it scares the shit out of me. But I won’t be the guy that holds you back from doing what you want...I think loving someone means you let them make their own choices. When I told you at the rink that I wanted all those things for you, and you thought I was making fun of you”––he shakes his head––“I wasn’t.”
A second of silence passes and then I can’t wait any longer. I march up to him and throw my arms around his waist. “I love you too.”
We set up camp and eat dinner. I packed sandwiches. By nightfall, we’re exhausted and tuck in early, both of us in one giant sleeping bag.
“Where did you get this thing,” I ask as I inspect it.
“Amazon.”
I laugh and laugh. And Jake kisses me. He kisses me like he loves me. And I kiss him back like I love him more. Peeling my leggings and underwear down, he touches me between my legs with skilled fingers that make art so beautiful it makes me cry. Before long, I’m screaming my orgasm into a night sky littered with a million stars. The magic of the moment not captured in something artificial, but forever branded in my mind.
Taking me by the hips, he positions me facing away and pulls me back against his erection, hard and hot against my skin. “This good,” he says.
It’s all good. Everything with him is good. How could I possibly give it up?
He enters me from behind, his hand under my thermal, over my breast. His mouth near my ear.
“I love you,” he murmurs over and over as he pumps into me.
“Jake,” I cry out as I come. And when we’re done and he’s holding me and I’m so happy tears are running down my face. I whisper, “I love you always.”
“Let’s go, Anderson.”
This hike has kicked my ass. Ironically, I’m moving a lot more slowly going down the mountain, than I was going up.
