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five

HUNTER

I don’t go out with the guys very often—I’d rather be reading a book at home with my beer on the side table—and when I do, we usually go to one of the bars in town that mostly locals frequent. Tonight, we’re at The Bivy, located in the tourist trap part of town up the mountain.

“What are we doing here?” I grumble to Scott as we’re walking in. Most of the guides are here, another reason I decided to come. One of the benefits of not being in charge at the adventure center is I get to be “just one of the guys.” I try to fit in, even if it means hiding my nerdy tendencies once in a while.

“Some of the girls suggested it,” replies Scott, who knows all about my nerdy and rule-following tendencies, which is why he didn’t tell me we were meeting up with some of the tour participants.

Of course. I catch sight of them now—there’s Mollie, Nora, and Sophie, a mom who appears to have left her family at the hotel, and a definitely underage teen girl I’ll have to keep an eye on. They’re all parked at a large table near the pool tables and wave their drinks at us as we come in.

Scott approaches the table fast and I notice he acknowledges Mollie and Nora first, putting a hand on both of their shoulders as he greets everyone else. Isn’t Nora engaged? Or is that the other one. I do a quick ring check and see that he has, at least, restrained his impulses enough to stick with the unattached women.

Biting off a sigh, I offer to get drinks for the table to hide how judgy I’m being. Scott’s a great guide, firm but kind about dangers and guidelines. He’s the same way in his personal life, laying out clear boundaries for the guys. Commenting on his rich and varied love life is a hard line and it’s not my business, anyway. Hopefully, he’s as clear about expectations with the women in his life. What do I care if he pursues Nora or Mollie or anyone else? Other than the fact that fraternization between guides and tour guests is against the rules. I’ve pointed this out before, and Scott laughed and said, “We’re not doing rocket science here.” He’d said it in front of Tom, who laughed with him.

Tom doesn’t run things the way I would, but he’s the boss and it’s working for him, so I try to shut up about things like rule-following.

I nod at Mollie across the table as I sit down. She smiles back shyly. The last time I saw her, she was soaking wet, every curve on her body outlined in a clingy fabric. Tonight, she’s wearing jeans and a drapey shirt that dips down to the tops of her breasts. Her short hair and dangling earrings draw attention to the exposed skin of her long neck.

She and Nora are polar opposites, sitting next to each other. I can’t predict which one Scott will go after—hell, knowing Scott, maybe he’ll convince them to share.

The idea makes me uncomfortable. Scott always tells me I miss out on life by following all the rules, and I tell him I’ll live a longer one because of it. We get along because we can agree to disagree on life philosophies.

Still, at the moment I wish I could channel some Scott and be less awkward. “How’s your beer?” I ask Mollie. She’s clutching a half-full pint glass.

“Good,” she replies, nodding. Then she scrunches up her nose and shakes her head. “I mean, I don’t like it.”

“Do you want me to get you something different? Maybe a cocktail?” I shout it over the loud bar.

Sophie, talking to Tyler, one of the other guides, shouts at Mollie, “Why don’t you move to the other side?” There’s an empty chair beside me.

Nora leans over to Mollie and I see her lips sound out what is very clearly the words, “Go get him.”

They’re going to be disappointed in the evening. Tom will never trust me to help run the business if I start breaking the rules. Chatting at a bar is one thing, and bringing a guest back to the house I live in with my boss is another.

The back of my neck feels hot as I imagine bringing Mollie to my room, though. What would she think of the tidy bookshelves lining the walls around my bed? “You haven’t left room for anything kinky,” Scott said when he saw what I’d built last summer.

This guy lives in my head rent free sometimes, reminding me what I’m not.

Mollie sits down on the chair beside me and smiles like she doesn’t mind that I’m not Scott.

“Hi…how’s your trip going?” I know I’m an awkward conversationalist, better when I’m teaching or learning. I read a book once about how to make friends and it basically said to keep asking questions.

“Well, I know how to wear a backpack now.” She actually seems enthused about this, not throwing me an awkward bone. “I’ve never even used those waist strap thingies.”

“That will completely change the way you look at a backpack! You’ll have much less discomfort if we got the fitting right.”

“I’m sure you did.” She lifts her beer at me. “You took your time on it.”

“Oh, don’t drink that! I was going to get you something different.” I jump up and rush to the bar to get away from my embarrassment that she noticed the other day how carefully I adjusted every backpack to find the right fit. I enjoyed it far more than I normally would as I jerked on loose straps that made her jiggle in interesting places.

The bar is busy, filled with tourists who mostly have the benefit of staying within walking distance at one of the many hotels nearby. People are getting louder as they drink.

My friend Valentine works at The Bivy, and when it’s slow, she will describe the steps to making cocktails and show me her work. She’s here tonight, but running back and forth behind the bar. “Think you can get me something touristy when you’ve got a chance?” I call out to her.

She makes a face. “What do you think I do all day? Can you be more specific?”

Making an educated guess, I give her a taste profile. She raises her eyebrows, so I know there will questions when she has more time, but nods.

“I figured at least one of these would suit you,” I tell Mollie when I get back to the table and set a whiskey sour and a vodka mule in front of her. “Sweet and sour or sweet and spicy?”

She bites her lip, trying to hide a delighted smile. “What’s your guess?”

Pushing the vodka mule toward her, I watch her face.

“Really? You think I’m spicy?” She blushes and takes the drink. “Most people wouldn’t.”

“Guess they’re not looking closely enough,” I reply, taking a sip of the other drink.

She laughs. “Count me among them.”

“Daring might be the better word. Sweet and daring. You’re here on this tour, aren't you?”

“I hate to tell you this but this trip was not my idea. It was Nora’s.”

“You still said yes. And I get it, maybe you only wanted to spend time with your friends, but I’ve been watching you. You attack every activity like it’s your job. I bet you studied or practiced before you got here, too.”

Mollie studies me, her pupils lit up from the neon sign on the wall behind me. “I read a book,” she admits.

“You did? Which one?” I lean in, hoping it’s one I’ve read. Maybe that’s on my shelves at home.

“It was about people who survive big disasters, like getting lost in the wilderness, and what it takes. It scared the shit out of me.” She lowers her voice when she says “shit,” like we’re surrounded by impressionable children instead of rowdy adults.

“I promise I won’t let you get lost in the wilderness on this trip,” I tell her seriously. “But did you learn anything?”

She smiles wryly. “I learned I probably don’t have what it takes to survive something like that. So I’m depending on you here, Hunter.”

It might be the first time she’s said my name. That’s how it lands with me, anyway. Like she plucked me out of a herd of other guides—all of us trail smart guys who “know more about the outdoors than anything else”—and saw something unique in me.

“Out of all of us, Hunter’s the guy you want when you get lost in the wilderness,” Scott pipes up, popping our bubble. I didn’t realize he was listening. “This guy’s certified in everything you can be certified in, practically. CPR, First Aid, AED, Mountaineering, Orienteering, Lifeguarding…”

“Shouldn’t you all know how to do those things?” Nora asks skeptically.

Scott puts his arm around her and says, “There’s knowing how and there’s passing the test. Hunter’s a test-taker. He even got his kinesiology degree.”

We’re veering into territory I don’t want to get into here. I hate talking about the fact that I only have an associate degree from the community college. “It’s more practical than a degree in theater,” I retort.

“Who has a degree in theater?” Nora’s eyes widen as she looks at Scott. “No!”

“It was my rebellious phase,” he shrugs, trying to brush it off.

“What, were you in it for the chicks?”

I’ve successfully diverted Nora and Scott, at least. Mollie is still studying me, so I stand. “Be right back,” I say, and head for the bathroom.

Valentine catches me on the way back, when we’re both down the back hallway. “Look at you, out with the city folk,” she teases. Valentine—another Telluride native—makes cool content for a short-video platform in her free time, so she has an eye for a narrative.

“It’s nothing,” I insist.

She pokes me in the chest. “I’m going to let you get away with that because I only have a few minutes to pee, but I’m watching you, Mr. Man Bun.”

Rolling my eyes, I edge past her. “Haircuts are for people with a 401K,” I inform her, my usual retort. She laughs, as usual, and flips the hair in a long braid over her shoulder. Poor people humor.

When I get back to the restaurant, the group has moved. Nora and Scott are playing pool. Tyler and a couple of the other guides are playing darts. I look around for Sophie and Mollie, even walking outside to check the patio. I hear them before I see them.

“It’s not like you have to marry him just because you sleep with him.” That’s Sophie. They’re standing by the outside bar, probably waiting on drinks.

“I barely know him, Sophie.” That’s Mollie. I stand hesitating, barely outside their line of sight. Obviously, I shouldn’t listen because what they talk about is none of my business, except something tells me they’re talking about me.

“Girl, we have a week. Get to know his body. ”

“OK, Nora . I expect this from her, not you. You know I’m not good at one-night-stands. I want what you have: a relationship.”

“A relationship is for real life, not vacation. A relationship happens when you live in the same place and have the same lifestyle. That is not what this is. This is trying new things and having a little fun. And maybe you go back to your real life and have a different perspective on reality.”

“You think I need a different perspective on life?”

“I think you’re not entirely happy with it, so getting turned upside down and slapped on the ass a few times couldn’t hurt. That man looks like he could do some serious butt-slapping. I saw him with his shirt off today.”

Standing there eavesdropping, my skin heats at the graphic descriptions.

“Sophie, oh my god.”

“Mollie. I’m completely serious. I know you’re committed to do everything on the agenda, so I’m telling you right now, I’m putting sex on the schedule. You have to do it now. Before the end of the trip.”

“Sophie!”

“I don’t care if it’s with Hunter or Scott or one of the other guys. You need some sexual adventure. Admit I’m not wrong.”

A pause, then Mollie’s small voice: “You’re not wrong.”

Backing away from the conversation, I stay silent. So Mollie wants—or her friends want for her—a vacation fling. I’ve never done that. I’m a relationship guy, not a fling guy. Unlike Scott, I don’t sleep with the tourists or the clients, in part because there’s always a time limit.

If I were Scott, this would be the perfect set up. No commitments, clear end point, and a week of fun with a beautiful woman open to trying new things.

I imagine Mollie’s face, the way she bites her lip when she’s nervous and then goes for it despite her fears, stepping up to try something with that determined look on her face. Open to learn. Ready to practice.

Scott would be the perfect teacher in that context. I’d be terrible. I only teach when I’ve done enough studying and practicing on my own to feel I’ve mastered something. And I’ll never be the master of casual vacation sex. It’s not in me.

Imagining Scott and Mollie together—becoming experts— curdles the drink in my stomach. Either Mollie doesn’t get the full experience she wants this week, or I need to master my feelings on this subject. And fast.