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CATHERINE
I’mlike a deer frozen in the headlights. I know I should move but can’t get out of my own way. That last comment to Hunter was over the line but I can’t stop myself.
His use of the word boy toy triggered me, an alarm that I thought had been destroyed blaring in the front of my head, blinding me. Here was another man reshaping himself to be something they thought I wanted. And even if this time I did ask for it, it doesn’t make it any more appealing.
I should be filled with admiration and pride that he’s connected so easily with Adrienne. The sight of the two of them laughing and joking so easily riding side by side on the narrow mountain trail should warm my heart.
When Hunter showed up, I had no choice but to walk back telling Adrienne the truth. Before I knew it, Hunter was sharing jokes with her. Her laughter and the joy of seeing the two of them together taking priority over the truth.
If I’m being honest, it was nice to see. I’ve always imagined the type of guy that I would be with one day. The type of man that would get my heart pumping and fit in easily with my family.
I had expected Hunter to show up to the mountain in dress shorts and a polo but he’s proving to be a man full of surprises. He arrived wearing tight expensive name brand black with gold trim biking shorts and a tight white top that accentuates his muscular upper body. I fear that he’s trying so hard to fit into this make-believe boyfriend role that he’s blown his operations staff budget. Not that I’m complaining, he wears it well, if possible, he looks more comfortable in the designer threads than the ill-fitting work jumpsuit. I nearly rode off the mountain several times watching the muscles in his arms flex when he shifted gears or tackled an incline.
And it's not just the bike that is at risk of falling. The way he interacts with my sister, his thoughtful and kind nature, his attentiveness to her even when she rambles on a five-minute soliloquy about mountain biking and the history of the trails, has my heart on the edge of swooning.
Hunter feels like perfection.
The ease in which he has me feeling things has me questioning every emotion. When he touches me, my body betrays me every single time with a reaction. The need to kiss him again nearly blinding me into doing something impulsive and impractical, two traits I’ve never carried.
But I can’t let myself drive down that road because anything he says, anything he does, must be seen through the prism of the quicksand we’ve built this charade upon.
Is any of it real? Or is he that damn good at playing his part?
When he jokes with my sister, is that him or is it the face of the recruited stranger sticking to the program? As I watch my impressionable sister warm to him, my body fills with guilt because I’m the one who brought this fox into the hen house. When this crumbles, and it will, I am the one she will be mad at, and rightfully so.
If I thought the chasm of age and distance was hard before, we may not recover.
A wave of impending doom sits in my bones, warning me of the danger. And like all frauds, the truth is like a ticking time bomb that may explode any second.
I march toward the bench outside the mountain resort office and watch Hunter return the bikes to their stalls. Adrienne waves to me before disappearing into the office to complete the paperwork. We have less than five minutes until she returns.
Hunter strides directly to me with a serious look on his face. He must sense what I’m thinking. How is he so attuned to me already?
“Care to tell me what that was all about?” The glee and playfulness that his voice held for my sister is absent, replaced with the sound of puzzlement and concern. Even when I nearly bite off his head, he doesn’t attack. He only seeks understanding. He provides the space for me to speak for myself–not jumping to conclusions. I hate myself for finding this attractive in this moment.
“I can’t,” I start and my voice catches and halts. His hand lands on my elbow and an electric charge races through me again. I curse at my double-crossing body. “Please. Please don’t touch me, Hunter. I don’t have the….” I can’t complete the sentence, the few words enough for him to cease his movement and release my arm. I don’t have the will power to resist him. It’s not just my body that yearns for him every time he is near. I fight to catch my breath, the pounding of my heart in my chest growing in decibels. It’s not fight or flight, it’s escape now or lose my heart to a man who believes what we are doing is a game.
His brow pinches, the look of confusion growing wider with each word I don’t say. He takes a half step back for a quick scan of my body language seeking a clue. “I think its best that Adrienne and I leave right now. Please make up some excuse as to why you need to stick around the mountain. We can no longer…”
“You want me to lie to your sister?” he asks the question with an attitude that surprises me.
“It’s what you do? And you are damn good at it.” I say the words to protect my heart. And they work. He freezes in place. “And I don’t think we should see each other again until the wedding tomorrow and I’m beginning to wonder if we should even do that.” I can’t believe I’ve found the strength to say the words. It’s not a fully flushed thought, hell none of my thoughts are when I’m near him. And that’s part of the problem. I’m not a person that operates on impulse. I’m a long-term planner, a brilliant executioner, a forest for the trees type of person. But when I’m around Hunter, it all changes.
With him I’m the happy getting caught in the rain girl, soaked clothes pressed against our skin, hair ruined beyond repair, goofy grins on our faces. With him I’ll hop willingly into a car without an agenda, without a plan, and let the birds choose our destination. With him I don’t feel the pressure of being perfect and racing to another state to prove to everyone I can make it on my own. Hunter has me believing in the here and now – the most important moment in our lives is the one we are living today. With him, tomorrow isn’t a task to be conquered, it’s a dream to be lived.
Hunter is a dangerous man - the type that will make me believe in the fairy tale. The type of man who, if I let him, will steal my heart.
Earlier today when Hunter showed up, and I caught the expression on his face when he saw me in the biking outfit, all I could think of was how that two second glance was worth the hour it took me picking it out. I’ve had men look at me with desirous intentions but very few of the right men. Not the type of man who exhibits self-control in every aspect of their life but loses it in a single glance when they are with me.
During this outing I keep catches glimpses of the real Hunter. No one can remain in character for this long. I watched closely and Hunter never hesitated with his responses. He may hide behind curated words when averting our fake relationship but it's in the quiet moments when the truth speaks the loudest.
The way he positions his bike on the outer edge of the narrow trails to protect my sister. The soft whisper of careful when Adrienne bolts down a steep section of the mountain. The total immersion of sitting on the peak and staring out to the desert without complaining about the hot sun because he can sense it is one of Adrienne’s favorite spots.
The fake Hunter may be what I need to face down Palmer but the real Hunter, the man who warms my heart, scares the shit out of me.
My heart is racing, my mouth parched as my head continues to swirl with images of a future that can’t exist. Hunter in a tailored suit, showing off his broad shoulders, smooth lines, and tight dress shirt, my head on his shoulder, slow dancing at the wedding reception, the envy of everyone in the room but the married couple.
Bodies pressed together, butterfly kisses across my temple, a hum in my heart.
