Love Is Crazy (Love Is… #1) (13 page)

I
listen
to Dakota’s breaths deepen as I hold her close. Breathe her in. I don’t know what to make of our conversation tonight. It hurt like hell to hear her call me bitter, to admit that I guess I still am. And as she was busy probing deeper, asking too many questions, resentment rose up from some deep, dark, ugly place inside me and I wanted her to just shut the hell up.

Was it a mistake to bring her? A mistake to make her think that this could ever be more than it is?

Except that’s the thing, even just thinking that right now, a thought that assumes Dakota is nothing more than a fling—a moment in time—even as I thought it, a part of me argues that if ever there was a woman to let into my heart, she’s the one.

I just don’t know if I have it in me to give it to her.

Because I will never sit still. I cannot be in one place. I cannot have the roots that her love for her family will have created in her. And I can’t expect her to wait around for me while I flit about the globe. What kind of relationship would that be? An unfair relationship, that’s what.

And I can’t expect her to come with me. Not now, while what we have is still so young. Whatever it is that we have. We kind of defy definition.

I laugh, a little derisive sound that pulls Dakota from sleep. She stirs and whimpers. I pull her even closer and she snuggles into me, sighing herself back to sleep.

We defy definition. That’s not just true of our little crazy fling of a relationship we have going on, but it’s also true of ourselves. Neither one of us fit into any box, any label. We are each our own brand.

But that’s not really true either because I think we are both the same brand. That she and I are lock and key, yin and yang, made to go together. One flowing into the other, a perfect half of an even better whole.

And yet, lying here with her tucked up against me, I’m afraid of how good it feels. Afraid for her. Afraid for me. Afraid of the truth.

She feels better than anyone I’ve ever met. In all ways. In all things. She is my answer and judging from the way she’s been looking at me, from the way she spoke to me tonight, I am hers.

And that’s such a delicious fantasy that I can’t help but smile, and that’s the problem in and of itself. I only have her for another week at most. The time here at the canyon and then in Vegas. And then it’s over.

The end.

Amen.

And is it fair for either one of us to open ourselves up to the other if we’re just going to end up with another hole in our heart? I don’t know if I can handle missing another part of myself like that. I’m afraid that if I let her in and lose her to the realities of our lives that I’ll just unravel. All the broken pieces of myself will come unglued and I’ll be left with nothing but pictures instead of memories. Pixels on a screen, ink on paper, the world seen through a lens rather than through my own eyes.

I sigh. Sleep is far away and my thoughts keep chasing it further.

Maybe it was a mistake to bring her here. A mistake to prolong the inevitable. A mistake to give us more time before the end that is looming ahead of us, more time to know each other. To learn the things that make us who we are, the things that make us perfect for each other. Maybe I should have said goodbye to her yesterday. Deleted her pictures and moved on.

Maybe it would have been better for us both that way. Safer. Saner. A clean break without all the jagged edges of heartbreak.

Maybe it’s not too late. Maybe I can push her out of my heart and pull myself out of hers and we’ll both be better off for it at the end of the week.

Somewhere, out in the distance, a coyote howls, wailing up to the moon. Goosebumps ripple out across my flesh and I pull Dakota closer to me. I’ll hold her tight for just this one more night before I choose to let her go.

M
y head is throbbing
. It’s the pain that pulled me awake and the pain that makes me want to roll right back into sleep. I reach for Dominic and find that I’m alone in the tent. Just the faintest of light is gleaming on the other side of the nylon walls. Dawn. The best light for pictures.

And I’m missing it. Dominic’s out there without me.

I push myself up into a sitting position and cringe as the world tilts and twists and pain lances through my temples and into my eyes. There’s a bottle of water next to me. A little note taped to it. Drink me, it says.

I do, finishing most of the bottle in one long pull. I didn’t think to pack anything for headaches, because, um, I’m dumb, I guess. Something tells me Dominic did. That he’s the guy with all the answers. The wise one. The prepared one.

I get dressed and pull my hair back into a messy bun. Pull my sunglasses out of my purse and slide them on before I crawl out of the tent, still squinting against the early light. Holy fuck I’m so glad I didn’t miss this. The red rock is outlined in gold from the rising sun, a pinprick of energy just now appearing at the edge of the horizon in a supernova of yellow and gold streaking out across the sky.

I sigh and almost forget I have a headache, almost forget to wonder where Dominic is. Lost in that feeling again, the one that makes me feel big and small all at the same time. I am nothing in the wake of such vast magnificence and somehow, being inconsequential is the most connected feeling I’ve ever had.

No one else is awake yet. It’s just me out here, alone in this experience, yearning to share it with Dominic. Where did he go? I’m sure he was trying to be sweet, letting me sleep in, but I feel just the tiniest bit abandoned.

I put my head in my hands and groan. Run my fingers back along my hair as I take a deep breath in and stretch my arms out to the sky. There’s movement beside me. The click of a camera and I drop my arms and smile.

Click again.

“Hey,” I say.

Click. “Hey.” He’s still looking at me through the camera, still watching me through the lens.

“It’s gorgeous.” I gesture towards the sunrise.

Click. He nods. He changes positions. Click again. His silence is off putting. The frequent pictures unnerving. I just want him, Dominic the person. I don’t want to be separated by his camera. I want to be with him, not another one of his subjects.

“You were right about the alcohol. I’ve got a pounder.”

“Did you get the water I left?” Click.

I smile, the big fake one that he never takes a picture of. “Yep.” Click. “Thanks.”

I try not to let him see the frustration on my face. Try not to show him that last picture hurt me. He’s the guy that sees me. The one person I thought had seen through the big fake one-thousand-watt smile and knew how to wait for the ones that mean something. The fact that he took a picture just then, one that is sure to be like all the ones I’m used to seeing of myself—bad—that makes me wonder if he ever really saw me at all.

Or maybe he’s just as jet-lagged and hung over as I am.

“You wouldn’t happen to have any pain killers would you?” I ask, shrugging sheepishly. “I didn’t think to bring any.”

Finally, he lowers the camera. “You want to just stay here while I go out? Rest up? You don’t have to push yourself, you know. I can go get these shots by myself.”

Well now I’m really getting upset. Of course I don’t want to sit in the tent all day while he goes out, seeing and experiencing. I came here to get some adventure. With him. Headache or not, I’m going.

“That’s very sweet,” I say because maybe he was trying to take care of me. Not push me away. “But I came here to see the sights. I’ll be damned if I let a little headache get in the way.”

Dominic shrugs. “Suit yourself.” He disappears back into the tent and comes out with two white pills in one hand and a bottle of water in the other. “I’d go heavy on the water today,” he says, his eyes focused on something over my shoulder.

“Are you a coffee drinker?” I ask, hoping that he doesn’t hear the hidden
why are you kind of being an asshole
question behind the question.

He shrugs. Again. “Sometimes.” And now he’s fiddling with the strap on his camera and I swear it’s because he doesn’t want to look at me. What happened? Did our conversation last night not go the way I thought it had? Is he really just another broken asshole licking his wounds? Fine as long as we were dealing with superficial stuff, but now that I know more about him, he’s going to back off and push me away?

I hate to think that my sisters were right because they will never let me live this down. Plus, I actually really like Dominic. I don’t want him to be just like every other guy out there. I thought he was better than that.

“So, what about this morning?” I ask. “Do you need some coffee?” I have no idea how we’d get coffee. At the store? Maybe he’s got a way to make it on the fire? But if he’ll answer me and the man wants coffee, I will damn well figure out how to make him some.

“It’s a double-edged sword,” he finally says. “I would love some caffeine, but it’s going to be a scorcher and dehydration is a real concern.”

We go about getting ready, carrying our little bags of toiletries over to the restrooms so we can brush our teeth and wash up a little. While I’m in the women’s room, I check my phone because I feel the strongest urge to reach out to my sisters right now. I feel so unbalanced and they always help me find my equilibrium. Of course, I’ve got absolutely zero signal. The thing is pretty much just a gigantic clock. I guess I’m going to have to navigate these murky waters on my own.

We decide to grab energy drinks at the general store and I pick up a backpack so I can help carry some extra water. Dominic is pleasant, but detached the whole time and by the time we get back to camp and are getting ready to head out, I’ve had enough. He’s had enough time to wake up and get ungrumpy. If I can’t get him to talk to me like a civilized person, then I’ll just have to reach out to him in a different way. I walk up to where he’s zipping up his back and checking the straps on his camera for the millionth time this morning.

He looks up and I grab his collar. Pull him towards me. Kiss him like it’s the first kiss and last kiss all wrapped up into one. I let my hand slide up from his collar to his jaw, the other hand goes to his waist and fists in his t-shirt. I part my lips, invite him in. Mold my body to his.

His kiss is sweet but not sensuous. Polite but not greedy. He smiles when he pulls away but there’s a sadness in his eyes that I don’t like. Not one bit.

But whatever it is, whatever it means, now is not the time to puzzle it out because apparently, it’s time to go. He leads us off on a well-worn trail and I focus on deep breaths and wide open views. Last night I made a promise to myself to focus on the present instead of the future and right now, my present includes some pretty amazing scenery. So what if I’m taking in the view while walking next to a guy who just last night, I thought might have potential to be
the one
. So what if this morning I’m starting to think he’s just like every other jerk I’ve met at The Bad Apple, in it for the superficial stuff. The sex and the smiles. At least he hasn’t stolen my wallet.

The headache is still raging and by now, the sun is a big angry glaring ball of hotness slinging it’s heat rays down at me from above. I gave up trying to pull my water bottle out of my bag every time Dominic stopped for a shot and have just been carrying it with me. I’m glad we thought to bring more because I don’t know if I’ve ever been this hot in all of my life.

The trail he’s chosen has gotten more and more challenging as we’ve been going. Gone is the well-worn path with clear footing and in its place is a vague suggestion of where we might go covered in bits of rock, loose dirt, and other bits of debris. Dominic has found a place he wants to shoot. A unique vantage of the Colorado River. He’s off by himself. Again. Some more. Looking through the lens of his camera.

I take the moment to just walk away a little. Physically put some distance between us. Whatever has him weird today is beyond me and I’m done with being upset about it. I’m here. In this amazing place. Sure, I thought I was going to be here with him. And yeah, technically I am with him, but not in the way that matters.

I thought I was going to be here, sharing this experience with someone who understood the part in me that needed this experience. That we’d be doing this together in the deepest sense of the word, not just sharing space, but sharing the moment. There’s a distinction.

But, if I’m not going to get that with him, then I’d be a fool to waste these days moping over the loss of something I probably never had. I’m here. And damn it, I’m going to get everything I can out of it because the chances of me ever getting to leave Townsbury again are slim to none.

I wonder off towards the edge or our sort of, kind of trail. Walk right up to it so my toes are dangling off and look down. And down. And down. This crazy feeling of vertigo twists through me, mingles with the energy drink and adrenaline and goes zinging through my bloodstream.

Down, down, down below us is the Colorado River. A tiny slice of color, the reason behind this big vast hole in the rock. Time and patience do wonderful things, I guess. A few feet below where I stand, there’s a small outcropping of rock. There are birds there, hopping and pecking among the bits of foliage. I shift feet and send a small spray of rocks tumbling down on them and they take off, flying away below me. Somehow, the fact that I am higher than the birds does funny things to my soul. I smile and tears burn my eyes. I spread my arms, look to the sky, press my chest up and forward.

More rocks scuttle out from beneath my toes, crackling and rattling. The rattle continues on too long. It creeps into my subconscious and I pucker my eyebrows in confusion. That’s not rocks. I open my eyes and look down. There, just at my feet is a rattlesnake, coiled and menacing, his tongue wicking out of his mouth to taste the air.

“Dakota!” Dominic bellows my name, bearing down towards me.

I shriek. Stagger back. Lose my balance.

There’s this moment of my arms windmilling. I catch a freeze frame of the water bottle in my hand glinting in the desert sun. The sound of the rattle goes on and on, an infinite warning of impending doom.

I slip. A cascade of rocks. I’m falling. Down.

Down.

Down.

Scraping skin against canyon. Bumping and bruising and screaming.

I see Dominic above me, looking down at me. Frightened. I hit something and I roll. Skid along the canyon wall. Crash into the outcropping of rock, startling three more birds from their roost. As they streak away from me, three dark shapes against a sickly swirling sky, my vision collapses in on itself until I see nothing.