Page 58 of Elevator Pitch

“Here. Let me take a picture of you.” I hold up my phone when she turns and smirks. Click. “What was that look?”

“I hate having my photo taken.”

“Why?”

“I just never look like I feel in the images.”

“You’re fucking beautiful, Vee. You should feel like that in every photo taken.”

Her mouth falls open at my compliment and I take another photo of her. Then I step next to her and stretch out my arm holding the phone. Wrapping my other arm around her, I say, “We’ll take one together.”

“Okay.” She leans toward my shoulder and just as I’m about to snap the button for the photo, I turn my head and press a kiss to the side of hers. Click.

She pulls back and stares at me, and with my arm still outstretched, I click a few more pictures of us. I’m not only embracing the moment; I’m capturing it.

We hang out on the rock for a while before noticing trails leading to other rock formations. We descend one geological phenomena and hike toward another. The second formation is slanted like something from a pre-historic time, and Vee stands still in awe again.

“‘What are men to rocks and mountains?’” Vee whispers.

“What?” I turn to face her.

“It’s a Jane Austen quote . She was questioning the purpose of men in relationships to the peace of rocks and mountains.” Vee turns her head toward me. “Or maybe she was wondering what’s the value in a man when rocks and mountains are more stable?”

She laughs, and I realize she’s teasing me. Or is she?

I haven’t been very consistent in how I’ve handled our situation.

“She also said ‘It is not what we think or feel that makes us who we are. It is what we do.’”

I chuckle. “Now that’s something you should have printed on a T-shirt.”

She tilts her head. “I do. And why would you say that?”

“Because you have all those book tees.”

She stares at me in question.

“You know, Cool Girls Read Hot Books.”

Her mouth falls open, like she’s surprised I remember the T-shirt.

“I told you, I remember everything.” I tap at my temple. And I’m going to remember this moment, right here, where I really want to pull her into my arms and kiss her again. Not just a surprise cheek kiss, but an earnest, I want this moment to last forever kind of kiss.

Instead, I swallow down the desire and squint off into the distance where a range of mountains stands tall behind a glimmering city, wondering if I’m doing enough to let Vee know I value her and the time she’s given me.

+ + +

After our hike, we decide to head back toward Vee’s rental for lunch, and later find a local taco restaurant that serves margaritas and beer. We talk about nothing important and everything random, and I laugh like I haven’t laughed in a long time. Vee talks with her hands a lot, getting animated when telling a story, especially ones about her girls or her friend Cassandra, who she explains was seated next to her during the first spring training game Vee attended and the one catcalling my name.

I don’t remember her friend, but I recall looking up in the stands and seeing Vee when I typically gloss over the crowd. Looking at no one in particular and everyone all at once.

Vee stood out in that sea of baseball fans. And it wasn’t only that she was wearing that replica Anchors jersey with my number on it. Her bright eyes. Her light hair. Her stunned face then.

However, her smile is what captivates me now. I’m hoping I was able to capture that smile in the pictures I took earlier.

Will I find Vee in the sea of fans at Anchor Field once we return to Chicago? She’ll never be someone nameless or faceless in a crowd to me. Will she look for me as well? Or will we end when she leaves Arizona in a few days?

My stomach knots because I don’t want to think about goodbyes.