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Blaze
Miles beyond the suburbs of Los Angeles, the early morning sun was rising over Escondido Canyon Park. The sky looked like a painting, the fluffy bluish clouds drifting lazily over the hills, with the sun peeking out from behind. Rays of soft golden light punctured the clouds here and there and illuminated sections of the brown brush, making it glow as if it were on fire. The wind that rolled along the undulating landscape tasted more of desert than sea, despite not being too far from the beach. It was easy to pretend one was somewhere totally different. Compared to the glittering shore, this part of California seemed almost like another world. Perhaps another planet, with the supernatural haze of dawn hanging over the scene. The world was surprisingly quiet for a region packed with millions of people, locals and tourists alike. Out here, one could feel totally separate from the energetic hubbub of the city, reconnect with nature, and get a moment’s peace. There were no bumping bass beats, no gaggles of tourists snapping photos of anyone who looked remotely rich and famous.
Blaze stood in the small parking lot at the start of the Escondido hiking trail. He took off his helmet and hung it from the handlebars. Stretching his powerful arms up over his head, he slowly turned to take in the view. Even here, at the very start, the landscape was breathtaking. A patch of vivid red flowers grew on the hill, surrounded by miles of golden-brown hills. It was early enough that there were very few cars in the parking lot. He had seen one young woman who hopped out of a converted van, as well as a cute-looking couple with an excited border collie. Blaze’s motorcycle radiated heat and reflected the light like a beacon while he waited for Asher and Giselle to turn up.
He combed the black hair back out of his face with his fingers, looking like the very definition of a textbook bad boy. He wore gray weatherproof pants of a material heavy enough to protect against the itchy underbrush but thin enough to let his skin breathe. His strong chest and arms were well-defined in his form-fitting white t-shirt of a similar material. The ridges of his pectoral muscles and abs could be seen underneath the fabric when the sun hit him just right. He wore sensible hiking boots, as well as a pair of stylish aviator shades. He lowered them to look around, feeling that familiar rush of elation he got when he left the city for the countryside.
Blaze drew in a deep, full breath of fresh air. Despite the fact that he spent most of his time in the city these days, Blaze felt more at peace out here. He loved the excitement and perpetual activity of Los Angeles, but he needed the occasional excursion into nature to really feel like himself. Perhaps it was the years of exploring—and conquering—nature back when he was growing up in Utah, or maybe just a need to escape LA’s rat race. Either way, Blaze loved the feel of the breeze rippling through his hair, the smell of brush and flowers, and the silence. Even the drive out here on his motorcycle had felt like a mini adventure. He soaked up the dawning sun and the clean air, letting his mind run wild as the world around him grew wilder, too. Finally, he could hear himself think.
Although he was a little annoyed with his thoughts nowadays. He wanted to focus on the things that always mattered most to him—his craving for success and adrenaline. Blaze was accustomed to putting his career first, and his need for speed second. He knew how to secure his livelihood within city limits while balancing his passions for being outdoors, for slamming down on the gas pedal and seeing where the road took him.
But lately, there was something, or rather someone, lurking in his mind.
Giselle.
And it wasn’t just because she was now part of his career ambitions. He had worked with so many other artists over the years, but none of them bugged him like she did. Nobody else lingered in his thoughts and drove him insane like she did. In fact, Blaze thought, if he had encountered a client like Giselle earlier on in his career, he might have found a different one altogether. But he was no rookie. He was a seasoned professional now, and if there was one thing he could definitely handle, it was a five-foot-two brat in platform shoes. Sure, she was strong-willed, but Blaze was stronger. He could put his foot down. She needed him more than he needed her, or at least he told himself that.
Blaze just wished he could push her out of his head for a minute, the way he could usually clear his mind out here in the Canyon. But there was no forgetting Giselle, no putting her on a shelf. Even before she arrived in the parking lot, Blaze could feel her presence.
Luckily, he didn’t have to face her alone, because Asher arrived just minutes before her. He was dressed almost perfectly for the event, as though he had an approximate idea of what a true hiker would wear but lacked the experience himself. But his arrival was interesting for a totally different reason for Blaze.
Asher’s massive vintage Cadillac came moseying into the parking lot with the windows down and classic rock playing from the speakers. The car was long enough to be more like a boat, and it was so meticulously restored that it looked like a still from an old auto-lovers’ magazine. Asher was a man of the moment, but his car was a relic of the past. Asher cut the engine and stepped out, tall and lanky in his loose hiking pants and t-shirt. He had a small backpack and sturdy-looking walking shoes on, which was enough preparation to gain Blaze’s approval.
“Jesus, I had no idea you drove a car like that,” he said and let out a low whistle.
Asher slung his pack over his shoulder. “Restoring old cars is a hobby of mine.”
“Of course it is. Anyway, I’m glad you could make it. I know it’s early as hell.” Blaze greeted him with a casual handshake. Asher smiled and squinted up into the pale sky.
“No problem. I’m an early riser, anyway,” said Asher.
“Why does that not surprise me?” Blaze chuckled.
If there was one thing he’d gleaned about Asher from their brief time knowing each other, it was how disciplined he was. The guy was a paragon of good habits, from his punctuality to his constant note-taking.
“Beautiful out here, isn’t it?” said Asher.
Blaze nodded, putting his hands on his hips as the two men admired the view.
“Nothing like escaping the city to see what really matters,” Blaze remarked.
“Oddly poetic from a guy like you,” Asher teased.
“Lyrics have to come from somewhere.” Blaze shrugged. “Shit. Here comes trouble.”
A small black convertible came zipping up the winding road toward the parking lot. The top was down, with Giselle’s black hair flowing majestically behind her. She smirked at the two men from behind her oversized sunglasses as she whipped into a space. The engine purred while she pulled down the car mirror and checked her reflection. Blaze watched her with equal parts annoyance and intrigue. He couldn’t understand how he wanted her to turn around and leave almost as intensely as he waited for her to step out of the car. Even before she could say a word, he wondered how in the hell he was going to survive an entire hike with the brat. Though she wasn’t as high-maintenance as some LA women he had worked with, there was no denying that she was a diva. The fact that she made Blaze and Asher wait for a few minutes while she touched up her eyeliner and reapplied sunscreen only further proved his assumption.
“Really makes an entrance, doesn’t she?” Asher murmured to him.
Blaze sighed and shook his head slowly. “She likes to make ‘em wait.”
Almost on cue, Giselle stepped out of her car, flipping her luscious dark locks as she did. As soon as she stood up, Blaze felt his heart rate climb higher than the hiking path. His insides turned to mush as his dark eyes soaked up every detail of her exquisite beauty.
She was dressed all in black, as she often did, and her clothes were only hiking-gear-adjacent. Instead of the waterproof, durable clothing designed specifically for hiking, she wore a black crop top paired with black leggings and, as usual, platform shoes. At least this time, they were tightly laced instead of simply buckled on. The crop top revealed Giselle’s flat, tight stomach and just how enticing her figure truly was. Her waist was tiny, and Blaze could so easily imagine slipping one strong arm around her to pull her close. He wondered how it would feel to run his big hands along the slope of her hips and around to grope that juicy, plump ass. Her breasts jiggled deliciously with every step she took toward the guys, and Blaze found himself desperately trying not to look at her cleavage. He could only hope his aviators were tinted dark enough to hide his gaze.
She sauntered up to them with a sour look on her pretty face.
“I’ve been here for twenty seconds and I’m not inspired yet,” she said.
