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“…Used to live on this side of the hill, grew up just two streets over from you.” He remarks factually.
Having done plenty of my own research on Vincent before I started college, I know from his books too that he did indeed grow up in the town he stills works in. His placement at the college is something that makes the town famous, to nerdy academic types like myself.
But this is more than just a steep rise behind a building. Cobbler’s hill is a landmark, and from where I’m sitting, it looks and feels as much a mountain as it does a ‘hill’. But Vincent carries me and my luggage easily, navigating the overhanging branches and sections where the track fades to nothing as if he made the path himself.
He stops a couple of times, not to catch his breath, but to remind me to stop asking if he’s sore from carrying me.
“I could carry you for three days, Violet.” He says with a look of intensity that makes me shiver. White hot chills the man gives me simply by existing, but up close and this personal with a real man like Vincent Valentine is making me feel like I’d be helpless if he did try anything apart from carrying me.
And not because of his sheer size and strength.
Right now he could toss me down on the ground and do whatever he wanted to me, and by the time we reach the top of the hill near a lookout, I’m wishing he would.
But Vincent seems content enough to carry me, proving whatever macho point he has to prove by not even letting me walk a little of the way.
He’s a gentleman, sure. But it’s dialed so high it’s making me wonder if he's gonna let me walk anywhere from now on.
“I’ll let Dean Reinhold know about your intruder. He can decide if the college wants to involve the police.” Vincent says dryly. I look up, certain I catch the faintest hint of a smile in his features. But the dappled late afternoon sun blasts my eyes with geometric shapes that glow yellow and orange.
Already reminding me that it’s almost night time.
And when it's night time, even big strong men like Vincent go to bed… So I can’t help thrilling and then worrying about what will happen if he really does like me in that way.
Like I said, I'm no expert when it comes to that stuff. And if my first time is gonna be with a hulking man the size of a bear, then I’m wondering if there’s something I need to do to prepare.
Like sit on a traffic cone for a week.
If his at rest pant bulge is anything to go by, Vincent is all man, and everywhere.
Compared to him I'm tiny. I'm no math major, but it’s an equation that’s gonna have a lot of extras that have to fit somewhere. I feel myself wriggling with a mix of need and frustration when Vincent suddenly sets me down unannounced.
The sound of a car and a group of noisy sightseers at the lookout making it clear to me in a second that the last thing either of us need is Vincent being spotted carrying a girl into or out of the woods.
The view is breathtaking, but I'm more taken by my man and he wastes no time in giving me a look that suggests we keep moving, “Unless you wanted to stay and watch the sunset?” He asks, “But then we’d be heading down the other side in the dark,” he adds.
“Lead the way!” I exclaim excitedly, following him as he starts down some ancient looking sandstone steps that I can see already lead down to the nicer side of civilization in this town.
Having him carry me where people can see won’t do, but I'm eager to show him. Prove to Vincent that not only can I keep up with him, but I can probably beat him to the bottom, being half his age.
He urges me on with his chin, creasing his mouth and looking wary still of other people as they file up and down the steps past us.
Its not long before I slow to a stop. My legs are burning and even though I've only gone a few hundred feet, I’ve got a stitch and wheezing like an asthmatic before I have to stop. Vincent really only two or three of his huge steps behind me until he catches up.
“Almost home…” He encourages me, my hand reaching absently for his, already needing that feeling again. But he goes on ahead once more people pass us, keeping up appearances and only glancing back to make sure I’m still right behind him.
There’s a little park at the bottom of the steep stepped climb down the hill. An eerie red glow from the sky making it look like a desert ghost town, empty of people with some modern looking play equipment that seems out of place.
People on this side of town generally don’t have young kids. Retirees and wealthy professionals like Vincent live around here. A wall twice as high as Vincent running alongside it that he points out, “This is us,” he says, making me swoon with relief if it only means I can stop walking now.
Having him carry me wasn't just to show of, I'm assuming. A man as tall as he is could’ve made it up and down in half the time I did, regardless of his age.
He’s not just a wall of muscle, Vincent's fit and it’s clear to me now that I'm not.
The white stucco of the long, wide wall, with a tiled ridge inter spaced with cast iron spikes only adds to the drama of what should be an ordinary suburban scene.
But I think its more the feeling in my chest and between my legs versus the way the light’s hitting a playground that gives me a sense of foreboding. But only because I know if Vincent does want more than just a peck on the cheek, I’m likely to make a complete fool out of myself in the process.
“Woods used to come all the way down, until they put this monstrosity here,” Vincent murmurs, narrowing his eyes and pressing his huge hand into the small of my back, guiding me forward as I feel myself starting to tremble.
