that . . .
something you might like?”
“Um, sure,” she said.
“Great. Awesome. Great .”
She giggled. “What time?”
“Now,” he pronounced, and she giggled again. He was
too thrilled to be embarrassed. “I’ll be at your house in
fifteen minutes. Hey—are you afraid of heights?”
“Of heights? Why?”
“No reason. See you soon.”
He took her to a spot along the Chattahoochee River where
the sky was wide and blue. Trees lined the bank, and birds
sang as they flitted from branch to branch. The water was
brown, but it glinted and turned to gold when it splashed
over the moss-covered rocks.
Charlie drove here when he needed to think. Until
today, he’d always come alone.
“It’s beautiful,” Wren said after climbing out of the car.
She was wearing a sundress, or some sort of dress, and it
swished against her thighs. She had on cowboy boots, and
her hair was pulled into a ponytail. She was beautiful.
“Come on,” he said, almost reaching for her hand. He
didn’t, and he cursed himself.
He headed up the trail. She followed.
“Do you go hiking a lot?” she asked.
“Um, what do you mean by hiking? You mean like what
we’re doing now?”
“I guess,” she said. “Being outside—is that something
you like?”
“Oh,” he said. “Yeah. When I was a kid, I was inside a lot,
so yeah, I’d rather be outside if I can.” He glanced back at
her. Her skin was smooth and creamy. When she stepped
over a log, he caught a glimpse of the paler skin of her inner thigh. There, and then gone.
Take her hand, he told himself, and this time he did.
“And you?” he said. They started back up the trail. “Do
you like being outside?”
“Mmm-hmm,” she said. “Especially the ocean. Oh my
gosh, I love the ocean. I love catching waves and getting all salty, and hungry—I get so hungry after swimming in the
ocean—and then flopping down all wet on my towel and
letting the sun soak in.”
She made a small sound that was almost a moan, and
Charlie’s cock stirred. Wet and warm and salty? Damn.
Everything she said, she said so innocently, and yet she
drove him crazy. She drove him more crazy because she
was so innocent.
Discreetly, he tugged at his jeans. “I’ve never been.”
“To the ocean? You’ve never been to the ocean?”
He shook his head. “One day.”
“Oh, Charlie, you have to,” she told him. “If you like
being outside—wow. You will love the ocean. It makes you
feel so . . . I don’t know. Small, but not in a bad way. Small because you realize you’re part of something bigger. It gets
you out of your head, if that makes sense.”
She almost tripped on a root. Charlie caught her.
“You all right?” he said.
“Yeah, thanks,” she said, looking embarrassed. She let go
of his hand. He wished she hadn’t. Then, after a moment’s
hesitation, she looped her arm through his, and he was
elated. Her breast brushed against him. She brought her
other hand across her body and rested it on his biceps,
above their linked elbows.
She smiled shyly up at him. “Is that okay? I’m not mak-
ing it hard for you to walk or anything?”
She was, but not in the way she meant. Yes, it was okay.
“Do you think that life has patterns in it?” she asked.
“Patterns? Like what?”
She exhaled in a sweet way. “Like, in a non-random way.
Like, do things happen for a reason?”
“Hmm,” Charlie said. Science and math were subjects he
did well at, and in general, he was more comfortable with
ideas that could be expressed in formulas than ideas that
couldn’t fully be explained. Then again, scientific theories
started with the seed of an unexplained idea. Mathemati-
cal formulas often described phenomena that couldn’t be
physically verified.
“I’m not sure,” he said. “I’m certainly not willing to dis-
count it.”
“Me either,” she said. “And, okay, this is going to sound
silly, but when you called me this morning
something you might like?”
“Um, sure,” she said.
“Great. Awesome. Great .”
She giggled. “What time?”
“Now,” he pronounced, and she giggled again. He was
too thrilled to be embarrassed. “I’ll be at your house in
fifteen minutes. Hey—are you afraid of heights?”
“Of heights? Why?”
“No reason. See you soon.”
He took her to a spot along the Chattahoochee River where
the sky was wide and blue. Trees lined the bank, and birds
sang as they flitted from branch to branch. The water was
brown, but it glinted and turned to gold when it splashed
over the moss-covered rocks.
Charlie drove here when he needed to think. Until
today, he’d always come alone.
“It’s beautiful,” Wren said after climbing out of the car.
She was wearing a sundress, or some sort of dress, and it
swished against her thighs. She had on cowboy boots, and
her hair was pulled into a ponytail. She was beautiful.
“Come on,” he said, almost reaching for her hand. He
didn’t, and he cursed himself.
He headed up the trail. She followed.
“Do you go hiking a lot?” she asked.
“Um, what do you mean by hiking? You mean like what
we’re doing now?”
“I guess,” she said. “Being outside—is that something
you like?”
“Oh,” he said. “Yeah. When I was a kid, I was inside a lot,
so yeah, I’d rather be outside if I can.” He glanced back at
her. Her skin was smooth and creamy. When she stepped
over a log, he caught a glimpse of the paler skin of her inner thigh. There, and then gone.
Take her hand, he told himself, and this time he did.
“And you?” he said. They started back up the trail. “Do
you like being outside?”
“Mmm-hmm,” she said. “Especially the ocean. Oh my
gosh, I love the ocean. I love catching waves and getting all salty, and hungry—I get so hungry after swimming in the
ocean—and then flopping down all wet on my towel and
letting the sun soak in.”
She made a small sound that was almost a moan, and
Charlie’s cock stirred. Wet and warm and salty? Damn.
Everything she said, she said so innocently, and yet she
drove him crazy. She drove him more crazy because she
was so innocent.
Discreetly, he tugged at his jeans. “I’ve never been.”
“To the ocean? You’ve never been to the ocean?”
He shook his head. “One day.”
“Oh, Charlie, you have to,” she told him. “If you like
being outside—wow. You will love the ocean. It makes you
feel so . . . I don’t know. Small, but not in a bad way. Small because you realize you’re part of something bigger. It gets
you out of your head, if that makes sense.”
She almost tripped on a root. Charlie caught her.
“You all right?” he said.
“Yeah, thanks,” she said, looking embarrassed. She let go
of his hand. He wished she hadn’t. Then, after a moment’s
hesitation, she looped her arm through his, and he was
elated. Her breast brushed against him. She brought her
other hand across her body and rested it on his biceps,
above their linked elbows.
She smiled shyly up at him. “Is that okay? I’m not mak-
ing it hard for you to walk or anything?”
She was, but not in the way she meant. Yes, it was okay.
“Do you think that life has patterns in it?” she asked.
“Patterns? Like what?”
She exhaled in a sweet way. “Like, in a non-random way.
Like, do things happen for a reason?”
“Hmm,” Charlie said. Science and math were subjects he
did well at, and in general, he was more comfortable with
ideas that could be expressed in formulas than ideas that
couldn’t fully be explained. Then again, scientific theories
started with the seed of an unexplained idea. Mathemati-
cal formulas often described phenomena that couldn’t be
physically verified.
“I’m not sure,” he said. “I’m certainly not willing to dis-
count it.”
“Me either,” she said. “And, okay, this is going to sound
silly, but when you called me this morning
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