Page 11 of Their Romantic Chalet

Hawk still stares at my car, perplexed by its presence. “I always thought if I won one of those things I’d just turn around and sell it, and buy something more appropriate to my tastes.”

“I guess I just never thought of doing that.”

“Well, let’s forget about your strange choice of vehicle. Shall we?” Hawk says, lifting his pack over his shoulder.

“I’m ready,” I say, psyching myself up for a big journey through the woods.

We start on the path, but we don’t stay on it for long. I don’t fear putting all of my trust in Hawk being the consummate outdoorsman he claims to be. He’s quick to tell me to watch my step with low branches, when to duck with higher ones, and when to avoid the poison oak bushes that are all too common throughout the Evergreen woods.

Which I definitely rushed past on my last forest adventure, and have been heavily applying anti-itch lotion ever since.

Together, we head higher toward the mountains. The upward journey is a bit rough at times, but I hold myself together.

“Just a bit farther,” he says, pushing up a hill.

I heave a deep breath but keep going.

“You need me to carry you?” he shoots back, barely phased by the distance we’ve traveled.

“I’m good. I can do it. I can keep myself together,” I say, powering through any weakness I’m feeling.

“Do you want me to carry you?” He gives me a glare that suggests he wants me in his arms for reasons unrelated to getting me up a steep slope.

Somehow, someway, we make it to where Hawk was planning on leading me to, all along.

And, with no surprise, it’s as gorgeous as he has hyped it to be.

We’re right before a huge mountain stream, almost wide enough to be properly called a river. It runs down the mountain and drops, creating a beautiful waterfall splashing onto the pond below, continuing right through the creek. The trees give way on both sides of the pond, creating such a beautiful frame for the eyes, the natural artistry of nature coming through in ways that a human’s depiction could never truly match.

It’s so breathtaking, I stare at it for a time, not even breathing.

“Really something, ain’t it?”

I nod. “Something, it certainly is. How long have you known about this spot?”

“A decade. Probably a decade and a half, more honestly. Serena and I used to come out here and try to race each other to climb up the side of the waterfall. I’d always win easily, and then she’d accuse me of cheating and say I should go easy on her.”

“Sounds like a little sister.”

“I love her to bits, but yes, she is absolutely a little sister.”

I take a few steps in and appreciate the great majesty of what’s around me. I’d only seen scenery like this as computer wallpapers or on social media. Seeing it with my own eyes gives me a whole new appreciation for it all. “So you just come out here whenever you want to enjoy it? No one stops you?”

“Yes?” He sounds surprised that I’d ask such a question. “I’m a grown adult. I’m allowed to do whatever I want as long as I’m not hurting anyone.”

Must be nice. My teeth grit at the thought of my parents, and how it seems impossible to shirk their influence. They’d probably be apoplectic that I’m out here in the forest alone without, like, a full tour group or something. One guy alone can’t protect you from all the vicious bears, I hear my mother’s voice.

Bears don’t work like that, Mom. God.

“Actually,” he says, stroking his chin in deeper thought. “There was never a time I couldn’t just come out here. That’s how I had cliff-racing competitions with my sister. Made sense when I was twelve. Not so much when I’m twenty-two.”

“I’m surprised your parents let you out here without a babysitter of some sort.”

“This is a small town. Babysitters are kids who are, like, three years older than you, if you have one at all.” He scratches his chin again, more deep thoughts hitting him. “Was I babysitting my little sister this whole time?”

“Nothing about being a man disqualifies you from being responsible for others, so yes, yes, you were.”

“Damn. And I never even got paid for it.”

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