“Do you ski?” Hunter asks as we amble back in the car.
My cheeks go pink.
“A little. I can go down intermediate slopes, but that’s about it. I haven’t been in a while, either. I’ve been too busy with other things, and to be honest, I don’t have anyone to go with. My dad used to take me when I was little, but I don’t think he ever fell in love with the sport. I think it was just something for us to do together, like a father-daughter bonding event.”
Hunter hums a bit, his eyes on the road.
“Sounds like you’re really close with your dad.”
I nod thoughtfully.
“Yes, because my parents divorced ages ago, and my mom pretty much washed her hands of us after that. So my dad got custody, and we’ve been together ever since.”
Hunter looks at me from the corner of his eye.
“Really? Your mom wasn’t really interested in raising her daughter?”
I shake my head.
“Nope. It’s really sad right? How many women abandon their daughters? But my mom was never really into the mothering thing, and then after the divorce, she got remarried really soon. And then divorced. And then remarried. And then divorced. To be honest, I have no idea how many times my mom has been married now because it’s so insane.”
Hunter lets out a low growl.
“Sounds like a piece of work. But honey, I want to be upfront with you: I’m divorced too, but only once, I promise.”
I shoot him a long look.
“Did you recently get divorced?”
He shakes his head, eyes still on the road.
“No, it was a couple years ago. And it was one of those marriages that lasted less than a week. I don’t even know why I did it, to be honest, but let’s just say I was young and foolish, and we separated almost immediately after the wedding ceremony. It was that bad.”
I laugh gently, taking his hand in my own.
“We’ve all made dumb decisions, don’t worry.”
He squeezes my fingers gratefully.
“Yeah. It was dumb, but I’m just glad it’s over without any repercussions. Again, I chalk it up to being young and stupid in the old days.”
With that, we pull up at the mountain, and hop out of his truck. It’s a gorgeous day, and the trail looks pretty empty. As a result, I link hands with the handsome man, and we begin hiking up. The conversation flows easily, and we’re chatting as if we’ve known each other for years, instead of one week. About an hour into our hike, we finally reach the top, and the view is amazing. The vista looks out over blue-ridged mountains, complete with scattered fluffy clouds and heavily wooded forests.
“Oh wow, a hawk!” I say, shielding my eyes while pointing to the left, the bird of prey wheeling lazily in the sky.
Hunter looks out, and nods.
“She’s gorgeous, isn’t she?” he asks. “I don’t think I could ever have an indoor job. I’d be missing out on all this,” he says, gesturing expansively to the mountains around us. “It’s so clean, beautiful, and quiet too. That’s one of the things I love about being outdoors. There’s space, and you can actually hear yourself think.”
I giggle while sitting down on a rock, and he hands me my sandwich.
“Modern life getting to you?” I ask playfully.
He grins.
“I think I’m just so sick of unpacking,” he growls. “That, and all those ridiculous commercials I see for exercise bikes, treadmills, and even the exercise mirror. Why don’t people just go outside and take a walk? It’s free too,” he says, biting into his own sandwich.
I think for a moment.
“Well, I think fitness culture is really strong,” I begin slowly. “There’s a lot of pressure to look a certain way, and for women who are unathletic like me, they’ll do almost anything to change their bodies.”
Hunter pauses for a moment, looking at me quizzically with confused blue eyes.
“What do you mean, you’re not athletic? You don’t like sports?”
I shake my head.
“It’s not that. I guess I just don’t have the body for it.”
Hunter pauses for a moment.
“I’m not sure what you mean,” he says.
I sigh. I guess I’m going to have to spell it out for him. Men never understand, especially the ones who are fit and toned. They have a misguided notion that anyone can do anything so long as they put their minds to it, when that’s just not true. I know from experience that no matter what I eat, and no matter how many hours I spend exercising, I simply can’t change the number on the scale. In fact, it seem to go up when I focus on fitness, instead of going down.
“My curvy body wasn’t built to play sports,” I say slowly. “I’m not good at any sports, period.”
Saying it aloud sends a chill down my spine. Will Hunter still be interested in dating now that I’ve done the big reveal? After all, he’s a professional athlete. Maybe he wants a girl who’s got muscles out to there and who wins first place in bikini competitions. But he shakes his head.