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“I think you could totally pull them off. You’ve got barely an ounce of fat on you. Heck, you’ll look better in those things than I ever have.” I chuckle.
“It’s not an issue of how my legs look in them. And I’m sure you look just fine.”
I say it like I don’t have a clue.
Like I haven’t noticed her in theseexactpants dozens of times.
I’ve seen her fill out these pants. She’s not one of those angular, lean women. She’s always been thick, and I’ve always liked that. I like that she owns her body, too. She’s never tried to hide her curves. She’s proud and confident and other women look up to her for that. I might not be the most aware guy, but I do pick up on a few things.
“Yeah, well,” she says, “it’d be refreshing to see you in something besides black on black. You know you’ve been dressing the same since I met you? And you were seventeen.”
“Yeah, and I’ll probablykeepdressing like this until the day I die.”
“That is depressing, Cole.”
“Life’s short. Everyone dies. Ain’t no way around that.”
“Hey, here’s a hint. You want me to think of you as something other than a big old party pooper? Maybe don’t talk about how we’re all going to die. That’s a free tip for you. On the house. But if you want more Life Advice from Olivia, you’re gonna have to be nicer to me.”
“Ha.”
“I’m not joking,” she snips, but there’s amusement under her sass now. “Anyway, I’m going to wear leggings to this ceremony dance thing, I guess. They’re a good bet for any activity. And there might not be electricity in this yurt thing but there has to be Wi-Fi, right?”
I’m going to ignore that question.
First of all, I’ve already checked my phone and there are no Wi-Fi signals here. I’m not even picking up cell signal. I powered down my phone because the thing won’t do me any good until we leave this valley and get back to civilization.
That’s no problem—for me.
I’ve spent plenty of time in the wilderness.
But I don’t want to be the one to break that news to Olivia, a major phone addict.
Another reason I’m ignoring her now is that I have to figure out how many of these lame, all-for-show throw blankets I’m going to have to pile up if I’m going to get a decent night’s sleep tonight.
I should’ve packed my sleeping pad. It was a mistake, leaving it at home. At least I jammed my sleeping bag into my duffel. I whip it out, pull the downy bag out of its stuff sack, and spread it over the pile of fleece I’ve built up like I’m some woodland creature arranging dried grass.
The setup’s not perfect, but it’ll do.
I head for the door. The velcro fasteners are loud as I peel them back.
The wood pile is not far from the yurt, which is the first practical thing I’ve seen so far. I load up my arms and carry the stack of split logs back inside.
Then I drop them down onto the slate floor under the stove. One tumbles down and rolls toward Olivia. She stops unpacking books—way,waytoo many books—in order to stoop and grab for it.
“You sure brought a lot of reading material.” I nod toward the stack of books now teetering on the bed.
That’s right.Stack.
I don’t even own that many books, let alone pack them up for a trip.
“Yeah, well, I’m in this class,Online Dating Success. Have you ever heard of Julienne Reed? She’s amazing.”
“Never heard the name.”
“She runs workshops all over the world. I saw her when I was in London once. She’s a great speaker. I signed up for her class a few weeks ago and I’m in the thick of it now. It’s not one of those low content, gimme classes, either. It’s the real deal. I feel like I’m in college or something. She even gives homework.”
I crouch, and my knees protest.
