That night, I can’t sleep. The scene plays out over and over in my head. Grinder’s annoyed as hell mixed signals expression mingles with the sunshine and laughter in Nova’s eyes. Bats is in the middle, the biggest enigma of the three. It’s clear what Nova and Grinder would like from me. Bats I don’t know. He doesn’t want me to leave, but is that all he wants from me?
It’s a clear night. Maybe a bit of stargazing will help clear my mind. I pull on my boots and grab my flannel shirt for a little extra warmth. Climbing out of my tent, I turn toward Mission Creek, a few hundred feet down the trail. I need to get away from the guys for a minute or two.
“Heading somewhere?”
I gasp, stifling a scream when I realize it’s Bats. “Shit. You scared me,” I say, trying to slow down my pounding heartbeat. After a few deep breaths, I reply, “I’m heading down to the creek to do some stargazing.”
“Couldn’t sleep, huh?”
I try to come up with a convincing lie, but there’s something about Bats that’s trustworthy. That, or he’ll see through my bullshit anyway and call me out on it. “I have a lot going through my head. Stargazing relaxes me.”
“Cool. I’ll join you.” Before I can protest, he’s out of his hammock and pulling on his boots.
It only takes a couple of minutes to get back to the creek. I find a spot to sit down, leaning against a rock for a pleasant view of the night sky. Bats sits down nearby. Close enough that we could talk, but far enough to give me space. I like that about him. It’s like he knows where someone’s comfort zone is, and he stays out of it until asked. Unless someone gives him reason to invade it, like Grinder.
I spot Orion, my favorite, and then scan the sky for Virgo. According to Rachel, that’s my horoscope sign, not that I care. I’m a scientist. My life revolves around facts and theories I can test, not where Jupiter is or what pull Venus is supposed to have. I only learned where Virgo is when Rachel and I went stargazing one time and she insisted we find our signs. My maiden is peeking over the horizon, but there’s no sign of the scales of Rachel’s Libra sign yet.
After a while, I find myself no closer to sleep. In fact, my brain keeps drifting to the guy next to me instead of focusing on the brilliant display above. Staying clear of the subject isn’t helping, so I lean into it. “Batman, huh,” I hedge. He stays silent. “I wouldn’t have pegged you for a comic book guy.”
“Something wrong with reading comics?”
I consider my usual choice of books. They aren’t New York Times bestsellers either, but that’s because the Times has a stick up their ass when it comes to independent authors trying to get their story out there on platforms that don’t sell in “traditional” bookstores. I’ve read a few of the Times Top Ten books, and I can’t say they were much better than the stories I’ve read. Hell, some aren’t even close. “Nope. A good book is a good book. I just figured you for more of the sports or fighting type.”
He chuckles. It’s a pleasant sound. One that I could get used to. “Common assumption.”
He goes quiet, so I press again. “Why Batman?”
“Have you ever seen Tim Burton’s Batman? The one with Michael Keaton and Jack Nicholson? There’s this scene where Batman drops into an art museum, grabs the damsel, and escapes with a zip line gun. The Joker has this great line, asking where does he get those wonderful toys? Well, after I got my first job, I started buying camping and hiking gadgets. I had so many people asking me where I got my toys that Grinder and Nova started calling me Batman.”
I ponder this for a moment before asking, “So, you’re a comic and a tech nerd?”
Another chuckle. Not good. I’m getting addicted to Bats’ chuckles.
He leans closer and says, “I have the ComiXology and REI apps on my phone. You decide.” Did he wink at me? It’s hard to tell with no light, but at least in my head he did. “And I played linebacker for Syracuse.”
Well, damn. That explains the physique. No way you get a body like that by hiking and reading comics. I swear my ovaries are lighting up to join forces with the minx in my head. Bats is everything a geek girl like me could want. Maybe I should have left my Kindle app at home. It’s giving the minx too many tempting ideas involving both Nova and Bats. I take a deep breath, telling that voice to cool it.
“Syracuse, huh? That little tidbit isn’t running afoul of the whole ‘what happens at home stays at home’ rule, is it?”
Bats shakes his head. “Syracuse isn’t home anymore,” he says in his typical matter-of-fact way. But the way he shifts from the almost jovial way he talked about comics and trail tech to the melancholy way he refers to Syracuse no longer being home tells me there’s something more there. Maybe something happened while at school? Or maybe something after? We sit there in silence. Neither of us knowing what to say after that admission.
After a few minutes, Bats sighs as he runs his hand through the tangles of his short beard. Nova and Grinder shaved back in Idyllwild, but he’s kept his going. It looks good on him. That rugged outdoorsman appearance girls swoon over. Give him a double-headed ax, pop open a few buttons on his flannel, and he could model for the cover of some cheesy backwoods romance novel. Even better, lose the flannel and the T-shirt and he could be on the cover of a steamy romance novel. Hell, I’ve seen him without a shirt. I’d buy that book for the cover alone.
“It’s not you he’s mad at,” Bats says, changing the topic and snapping my attention away from remembering him topless in the hot tub.
“No, I’m pretty sure he’s pissed I’m slowing him down,” I retort.
A large, powerful hand gently wraps around mine. The warmth in his touch seeps into me. I get the uneasy feeling I know where that warmth is spreading to, but I can’t seem to pull away. There’s something about the way Bats holds my hand that I can’t put into words. Again, I wonder if I should be letting these guys get to me like this?
“You are not the problem, Belle. You’re not slowing anyone down, and you sure as shit are not who he’s pissed at.”
“Well, I’m pretty certain he’s not pissed at you or Nova.”
“He’s pissed at himself.”
My face scrunches up as I try to make heads or tails of what Bats just told me. “Grinder’s problem . . . is himself?” Bats nods, and I sit waiting for more, but it doesn’t come. “I know you like that strong, silent demeanor, but you’re going to have to give me more than that.”
“What happens on the trail stays on the trail.”
“And what happens at home stays at home,” I huff, extracting my hand from his and wrapping my arms around my stomach. “You won’t explain then? You expect me to believe that I’m not the problem and keep going like everything’s sunshine and rainbows? Grinder gets to keep being an ass, and what? I’m supposed to be okay with that?”
“Grinder isn’t an ass.”
“No, you said it yourself. He’s an asshole.”
“Grinder isn’t usually an ass,” Bats corrects, and I snort a scoff back at him. “He can be a lot of fun on the trail. Laid back, full of knowledge about the trails and locations we go, the type of person you’d like.” I’m tempted to call bullshit. “I wish you could meet him.”
“Pretty sure I have.”
Bats shakes his head. “I love him like a brother, but you’re right. At home, Grinder is an ass. High-strung, always in a rush, and singularly focused. Not the type of person you want to hike with.” Bats leans a little closer. “See where I’m going with this?”
It doesn’t take much to connect the dots. “Grinder didn’t leave home at home.”
“No, he did not,” Bats says in confirmation.
“You’re saying that his shitty attitude is because of something going on back home? Okay. It clearly wasn’t a big enough reason to keep him from coming.” Bats gives me a noncommittal sort of shrug. “Keeping silent again, huh? Because you can’t tell me? Or you won’t?”
“Not my story to share.”
“I have to ask Grinder? Great.”
We settle back into silence, focusing on the brilliant night sky instead of whatever is bothering Grinder. Bats won’t tell me, and I’m not waking Grinder to ask, so there’s no point in dwelling any further on it.
Before long, my head droops and Bats notices. “Looks like it’s time to get back to camp,” he says, standing and offering me his hand. I nod as I take it. He helps me up, pulling me against him. Besides helping me stay on my feet for the walk back, his warm body helps keep the cool night air away. We stay that way until we’re standing outside my tent. “Think you’ll be able to sleep?”
“I don’t know,” I admit. “You’ve given me even more to think about.”
“Then maybe focus on a single question? An easy one?”
“And what would that be?”
“Are you staying with us?”
I flinch, not expecting the question. “Didn’t you ask me that already?”
“I did. But there’s a difference between the answer that will piss off Grinder and what you actually want to do. So, do you want to stay with us?”
I open my mouth to answer, but no words come out. I can’t deny I’ve enjoyed the last two weeks. Whatever is budding between me and Nova—and maybe Bats?—could be fun, but could it last? What would happen if this went on all the way to Canada? Do I want to stay and find out? And then there’s Grinder. Do I want to put up with him for another five months? This is a once in a lifetime sort of trip, but am I enjoying it as much as I could? Do Nova and Bats’ desire for me to stay outweigh Grinder’s constant complaining?