G is for Gerry (Men of ALPHAbet Mountain)

I pulled out my phone and got a little bit of video of the fire, planning to post it when Gerry put his arm around my chair. It was a subtle move, but it made my heart jump up in my throat. I scooted in and let myself rest in the crook of his arm as I stopped recording that video. I turned my face toward his, and for a brief moment, the world slipped away as our lips pressed softly.

16

GERRY

Sunday mornings were for chores, so I could spend the afternoons hiking.

However, this Sunday was a little different. Rather than getting up and getting to the chores, I stayed in bed, thinking about the night before. Captain Clovis hopped up to remind me that he was ready for breakfast by kneading my stomach, but I paid him no mind. The only thing that I wanted to think about was Malia and the kiss we shared.

I should feel guilty about it. She was so young and vulnerable, and I was concerned that the new friends I was making might think less of me for my interest in her.

But as much as I knew I should feel guilty, I really didn’t. All I really felt was that I wanted to kiss her again. As soon as possible. As long as possible. Preferably with fewer people around.

She had flirted back with me—that had been the key. I took my shot, and she returned it with one of her own. If she had been standoffish or weirded out by me in any way, I was pretty positive I would have picked up on it.

Yet, the more we talked, the more I flirted and the more she flirted back. There was something there. Neither of us could deny it, and as we settled into our chairs and watched the stars arrive in the inky black sky above, I knew I was going to take a shot. When my arm went around her and she let herself sink into my shoulder, I knew it was now or never.

I leaned in as soon as she looked over at me, and she responded. Our lips touched, and I felt like time stopped. Never in my life had a kiss affected me so much. I felt like a teenager.

My lips buzzed all night as we smiled and hung out, my arm around her. We didn’t kiss again, but there wasn’t a feeling like it had been a mistake or anything. Just that we were both reveling in it, not wanting to spoil that perfect moment.

Now, I was spending my Sunday morning with an increasingly annoyed cat pressing its claws into my chest just hard enough to remind me that he expected breakfast. I looked down and made eye contact with Clovis, causing him to meow loudly and then hop off, heading toward his food bowl. Sighing, I decided to go ahead and get up.

Once the Captain had been served, I went about the motions of a typical Sunday, though with less zeal than usual. All I wanted to do was find a way to “run into” Malia again and spend the rest of the day with my lips pressed against hers. Failing that, I could daydream about her and what the future might hold.

I didn’t want to get ahead of myself, though. She was still eleven years my junior, and it had only been one kiss. It was entirely possible she would wake up this morning feeling the opposite of how I felt. If she did, I would have to deal with that and move on. But something told me she was at least as into it as I was last night, and there was a good chance she felt the same as I did today.

After making sure the cat was well-fed and had a few extra treats for my tardiness, I decided to head outside for some fresh air. I could go out on one of the trails that I enjoyed so much and spend some time in nature to clear my head.

I packed a bag and sat it by the door before making myself some breakfast. After eating, I tossed a few protein bars in the bag for lunch and grabbed some tea bags. One of my favorite things in the world was to find a nice stream, boil some water over a makeshift fire, and then make tea to relax by the stream with. I even had an idea of which stream to follow.

Hopping in the car, I tossed the bag in beside me and cruised about twenty or so minutes until I found the entrance to the woods that I remembered from a hike months before. It was on the edge of the mountains, almost in town, but the trail wound around to a small creek that flowed back toward town on the outskirts.