the right person?" He smiled at me gently.
I smiled back and then cocked my head to the side. "Do you go hiking alone a lot?"
"Any chance I get, yeah. I love being outdoors."
"I can tell. Hiking, snowboarding, surfing. What don't you do?"
"Nothing I won't do, Buttercup. I thought you knew that." He winked.
I rolled my eyes. "Seriously, though, what do you love so much about it all?"
He looked over my shoulder and was quiet for a minute, biting his bottom lip. "I love the challenge of it. I love the fact that if you do something enough, you can be great at it. It has nothing to do with who you are, how you look, nothing superficial. It's all about accomplishing something that you can take credit for." He was quiet again, his brow now furrowed. I could practically see the wheels turning in his head. "Huh. Never actually thought about it until I just said that out loud." His smile was startling in its intensity, that dimple doing its worst.
I grinned right back at him.
He pulled me closer to him. "Know what else I really like?"
I shook my head. "What?" I asked quietly.
"You." He grinned.
"Yeah? And what exactly do you like about me?"
He tilted his head, looking into my eyes. "I like the look on your face when you're seeing or doing something new–almost like it's a religious experience." He grinned at me and I smiled back. I liked that.
"And I like how you let me see beneath that perfect exterior, because it turns out that what you were hiding was even more stunning, Fragglerock hair and all." I laughed. He grinned back and kept looking into my eyes. I felt my heart beating wildly in my chest.
"And I really, really like how you make me feel–like if you looked at me every day, the way you're looking at me right now, I could do anything, be anything,
I blinked and reached up and touched his cheek. No one had ever complimented me quite like that. I wasn't sure how to respond except by saying, "I like you too, Carson."
"Yeah? What do you like about me?" he asked, a smile on his face, but I caught the look of vulnerability that skated across his features.
"I like how you make me want to be brave like you, listen to my own desires and make my own happiness." He smiled, but then furrowed his brow slightly as if he wasn't sure if what I said was completely accurate.
I kissed his nose. "I like how you let me see beneath your sex-on-a-stick exterior, because as unbelievably amazing as you are in that respect," I smiled and winked, but then went serious, "as it turns out, that's the least of what you have to offer." He laughed and pulled me in to him, kissing me on the top of the head.
"And," I went on, "I like how you make me feel, how you make me laugh and have fun, and feel more alive than I've ever felt before." I raised my head and looked up at him and he was gazing at me intensely.
"I think you should know something," he said.
"What?" I asked.
"In the tradition of the Native American people who lived in this desert ten thousand years ago, we just got married, baby."
I burst out laughing. "Vows at the top of the mountain?" I asked.
"Exactly," he said, laughing too.
After a minute or two, we joined hands and moved on.
At a little before ten a.m. we returned to the car and got inside, sinking into our seats and turning up the air conditioner to high.
"Wanna go see the Visitor Center before we get back on the road?" Carson asked.
"Okay," I said, glancing over at the outdoor, shaded center.
We walked over hand in hand and then spent a half an hour looking at the four themed areas; earth, air, fire and water. Carson came over and stood next to me and put his arm around my shoulder as I read about agave roasting pits. I nuzzled into him and kissed the side of his neck.
We drove back to town and stopped at a small burrito bar and sat on the outdoor picnic benches as we ate. Carson pulled me on to his lap halfway through, and it felt normal and natural to continue eating sprawled across him as we reminisced about the things we had seen on our hike.
I looked back at him. "Thank you for showing me my first sunrise. Thank you for the whole morning. It was one of the coolest things I've ever done."
He nodded his head, his mouth full of burrito. After a minute, he swallowed and said, "My pleasure, Buttercup. And by the way, a sunrise will always remind me of you too." He smiled.
We drove back to the hotel, and I reminded him that I was going to the seminar presentation and wanted to get there a little early. We stopped by my room so I could grab some clothes and then went up to his room to each take a quick shower.
I came out in my bra and panties and Carson was drawing the curtains so the room was dark and cool. "Nap?" he smiled.
"God, that sounds so good," I sighed.
He set the alarm and we snuggled together under the blankets, skin to skin. It felt warm and cozy and his smell was intoxicating me again. But my body must have needed sleep more because before I knew it, the alarm was going off. Carson untangled himself from me and rolled over to shut it off. We snuggled for a few more minutes, waking up slowly.
"Meet me back in my room at four o'clock?" he asked. "It's our last night, I want to do something special."
I nodded, feeling a lump form in my throat. "Four o'clock."
I got up and went to the bathroom to freshen up and pull on my black slacks and black cami under a black and white polka dotted sheer blouse. I slipped on my shoes and leaned over Carson, still lying in bed. "Four o'clock," I repeated.
He looked at me seriously. "Okay. See you then. Oh, take the extra key card on the desk so you can let yourself in."
"Okay," I said. Then I kissed him softly, grabbed the key card and left the room.
As I walked down the hall, a melancholy swept over me, and it occurred to me that this was the first time Carson and I would be apart for longer than fifteen minutes since we had first stepped onto that elevator.
Carson
I lazed around for a little while, flipping on the television and watching "Die Hard" for half an hour or so when I found it on a movie channel. Finally, I shut it off and pulled on some clothes. I couldn't help the feeling of melancholy that had washed over me when Grace closed the door behind her. I was going to see her in a couple hours and yet I was already missing her. This wasn't good. I suspected that I was somewhat fucked when it came to Grace, but I didn't want to think about it. It was going to suck to watch her walk away tomorrow morning. I stood at the bathroom sink looking at myself in the mirror. "You are such a dumb motherfucker," I said to my reflection. Maybe we could keep in touch. Maybe I could fly her out to L.A. We needed to talk–I couldn't let her go permanently. It was suddenly an impossibility for me. I had no idea what we'd do, but we had to do something. I tried to work through it in my mind for a few minutes but couldn't come up with a solution. "Fuck!" I yelled to no one.
I decided I needed to get out of my hotel room while she was gone. I'd come back up and meet her at four and we'd talk, figure something out, but to sit and drive myself crazy for the next hour didn't sound appealing. I headed to the lobby and decided to stop by the end of the expo, probably just finishing up about now.
I walked into the conference room and it was still crowded with fans, lines formed at tables where the most popular performers sat signing anything from photos to body parts. I shook my head on a smile when I saw one woman bent over, as a male performer I didn't know signed her bare ass.
"Carson!" I heard shouted and looked over to see Bobby Prince, another male performer who worked for Courtney at ArtLove.com.
"Hey, man." I turned and walked over. Bobby was just packing his stuff up and so we stood and shot the shit for a little while before his girlfriend, who was in the business too, came over and put her hand around his waist
