Some Kind of River

by Andi Marquette

Copyright © 2011, Andi Marquette

Cover photo by Jenn Meyskens/Bigstock.com

Cover design by R.G. Emanuelle/rgemanuelle.com

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including recording, print-outs, information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the author. Parts of this work are fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to persons living or dead or to business establishments or events is coincidental.

www.andimarquette.com

An Andi Land publication

Put-in

I had friends in Seattle who thought I was crazy, and friends in Portland who agreed. Spending another summer in an Idaho town of four hundred people was crazy, they’d said. Four hundred people? What kind of summer was that? And twice? Crazy.

These friends, however, were not of the peculiar species known as “river rat.” That is my curse, and my deep and abiding love for all things river-related drew me to places like this every rafting season. And it was part of the reason that I grinned like a kid who just got exactly what she wanted for Christmas as I parked my Toyota pick-up in front of the Little Salmon Rafting Company in Riggins.

For a few moments, I studied the wooden building and then, for the hundredth time, read through the sheet of paper that had rested on the passenger seat through this whole trip, each and every name of the guides and other staff slated to spend the summer with the LSRC. The other reason that made me grin like that kid on Christmas was one name that jumped off the page, like it did every time I read this damn thing. Hammond, Melanie J.

I dutifully read the rest of the list after her name, but went right back up to Mel’s name and lingered on it. Savored it, but also reprimanded myself, like I’d been doing since last summer, to just get over it, to quit thinking that anything beyond friendship would ever develop between us. We’d worked together every summer for five years, and we were buddies. River rats to the core. Boater buddies. Nothing else.

Once more, I read the list then folded it and put it in the glove compartment and glanced out the windshield at the building, a one-story wooden structure trying to mimic an Old West general store. The LSRC’s carved wooden sign hung off the porch roof. It had been reprinted in bright blue, red, and yellow. The familiar cartoonie raft splashed through a stretch of whitewater that seemed to arc outward toward the viewer, making the idea of tearing through the Little Salmon’s rapids all the more inviting.

I got out of the truck and inhaled deeply, stretching the miles out of my legs and shoulders while I gazed up at the surrounding treeless mountainsides. Like another planet, I thought, as I picked out only a few patches of green vegetation higher up their faces, above the valley floor, which looked lush in comparison. An RV slowed down on the main drag as it entered town, population about five hundred thirty in the winters but probably double that in the summers because the town sat at the confluence of two rivers, the Salmon and the Little Salmon. Highway 95 divided it vertically, and most of Riggins proper backed itself up against the west-side mountains. Summer saw lots of traffic in a town this size, and some afternoons it took a few minutes just to walk across the two-lane highway.

Even more awesome than two rivers meeting right here, the Payette River carved its own canyon twenty miles south and slightly east. In drier years, the Salmon, Little Salmon, and Payette Rivers still provided enough whitewater for boater nuts like me and Mel and plenty of calm places for the more staid tourist-driven raft trips. Riggins was a perfect place to spend a summer on the water.

Speaking of boater nuts. . .a dreadlocked dude was in the process of strapping a dark blue whitewater kayak to the rack on the roof of his beat-up car. I smiled. Typical. An assload of money spent on his boat and gear, none on his car. I knew that life. Nobody cared what their cars looked like, as long as they could get you to a river.

The dreadlocked dude finished loading his kayak and I turned and walked toward the double glass doors at the end of the battered wooden boardwalk. According to the roster, Brad was still on board, and for that I was glad. He kept this place cleaned, inventoried, and inviting. I’d worked for a couple of other rafting companies over the past four summers—one in Colorado and one in Wyoming—and hated the accumulated grunge in the dingy main offices. I’d spent enough time on western rivers to know that there seemed a correlation between appearance and performance. The more slipshod a rafting company’s office looked, the more slipshod the guiding. So I signed up for a second summer with the LSRC because the owners and Brad kept it clean, organized, and professional.

A couple of giggling teenaged girls preceded me indoors, talking about some hot guy they’d seen earlier that day. I pulled my shades off as I entered the LSRC’s funky northwoods interior and the smells of Pine-Sol, wood, and a touch of bleach greeted me. Brad’s influence, I thought with relief. He was here for the summer, for sure. To my right stood neat racks of T-shirts and shelves of books about rafting, boating, and local history. A beverage cooler filled with bottled water and sodas was positioned against the wall, set at a right angle to the counter. To my left, more shelves held stacks of sweatshirts, shorts, and assorted tourist doo-dads like Frisbees, beach balls, and a section of dog toys and dog treats. Brad loved dogs and his black lab, Mike, was something of a mascot for the company.

From the doorway, I scanned the staff behind the counter, pleased to see Travis and Jenny, both of whom I’d worked with last summer. My eyes fell on a third woman whose back faced me. She seemed to be speaking animatedly on the business phone. Mel? No, Mel had kept shoulder-length hair the five summers I’d known her. Whoever this was, her hair was cut short, a tousled run-your-fingers-through-it mass of light brown blond-streaked invitation. Besides, Mel’s hair was darker.

I studied her, puzzled. She had Mel’s athletic build and she stood about Mel’s height, but the hair. . .whoever she was, she was damn good-looking from the back. I let my gaze wander along her blue tank-top to the top of her black river-runner shorts. I couldn’t see her ass, but I was willing to bet it filled her shorts in a very nice way. Travis stepped to the counter to help someone, blocking my view. I set my shades on the top of my head and headed toward him, curious about the woman on the phone.

“Dez,” said a voice behind me.

I stopped and turned. “Hey, Brad. Man, I am so glad you’re here.” I gave him a big grin and he laughed and wrapped me in a huge bear hug.

“Welcome back. I’m glad you’re here for another round. Things just wouldn’t be the same without you.” He stepped back and looked down at me, appraising. “Nice,” he teased. “You haven’t gone soft yet. How’re things in Portland?”

I shrugged, still smiling. “Same shit, different day. Working on the master’s so I have more play with all of you hardcore outdoor nuts.”

He gave me an “oh, please” look, softened with his own smile. “You still repping for Dagger?” He tugged on his scraggly reddish goatee. An LSRC t-shirt and nylon guide shorts hung on his tall, lanky frame.

“Yep. And Kokatat. They’re both flexible and take me in the off-season. They know I’m a freakin’ water dog.” I chuckled then grunted in surprise as someone jumped on my back. I lurched toward Brad, just catching myself. “Hey—”

“Dez! Woo hoo, the party can now begin.”

I’d know that voice anywhere. Brad laughed as Mel slid off my back.

I turned, laughing, and then almost choked. Mel. Holy shit. It had been Mel behind the counter. “Wow. Um, your hair. . .” I stammered. “I didn’t recognize you.”

She pretended to model it with gestures a game show hostess might use to show you the products you could win. “Do you like?” she teased in a fake French accent. “I had it done last month.”

“It looks great,” I said in a rush, embarrassed at my reaction, embarrassed that I’d actually cruised Mel. I’d been trying so hard not to think about her that way and practically the first thing I did when I came into the building was just that. “Yes, I like. It suits you. Nice. So how are you?”

“Much better, now. My sexy river guide buddy is here to play on the water all summer long with me. Life is awesome. Even in Idaho.” She grinned. “Did you just get here?”

Sexy? Did she just call me that? I nodded, still a little tongue-tied.

Brad cleared his throat. “I hate to interrupt all this female bonding,” he said as he smiled, “but there’s shit to do. Check with me later for your assignments.” He raised his eyebrows and clapped me on the shoulder as he passed. “Oh, and Dez, I have you signed up to start Saturday. That gives you a few days to run the sections and see what you think.”

“Sounds good. Thanks.” I nodded at him and he went back to the counter.

Mel sighed, an exaggerated “woe is me” tone. “Dammit. Work. Who knew?”

I sighed, too. “Totally. I mean, signing up as guides and we actually have to do stuff.”

She smacked me gently on the arm. “C’mon. I’ll help you set up. I saved your spot.” She grabbed me by the wrist and pulled me toward the door.

“Well, hell, you sure take care of me.” I allowed her to lead me out the door and to my truck, her whirlwind energy burning the long drive out of my bones. She released my wrist and beat me to my truck, where she hopped into the passenger seat, guessing correctly that I hadn’t locked the door.

I slid into the driver’s seat and we both buckled up even though we weren’t going far. I started the engine and backed out of the parking space, then drove to a dirt road that ran along the side of the LSRC. I turned right, down the hill toward the river and the guides’ tent city.

“God, it is so good to see you. I love spending my summers with you.” Mel reached over and gave my shoulder a squeeze.

“Ditto.” I cleared my throat as I steered. I slowed down as we approached what was affectionately known as River Rat Junction. It looked like it had last year. Riggins supplied a bathroom building near the road up to the main building that included flush toilets and six shower stalls—three for women, three for men—and by arrangement, the guides divided into work crews to keep the camp and bathrooms clean. I liked the system and generally, most people did their part. Those who didn’t got a night visit from others who piled trash outside their tents or campers as a kindly reminder to get their shit together and pitch in.

 “I have a confession to make,” I said as I geared down.

She looked at me. “Shit. Please don’t tell me you went straight,” she responded in a dramatic stage whisper.

“Hell. You guessed. And I’m married now with three kids since you saw me last September.”

She snorted. “And I’m straight, too. I’m doing Steve, so I can replace Lisa as LSRC co-owner.”

I laughed as we neared Mel’s campsite and I drove slowly into the camp where I parked in the area I had occupied last summer, right next door to Mel’s. She’d already set up and I smiled at the familiar sight of her teal and blue four-person dome tent. She’d also put up her screen house, a dark blue nylon canopy with four walls of mosquito netting that you could roll up or down as needed. She had furnished it with a small folding table and two foldable nylon camp chairs. Her lime green sport kayak balanced on its stern against a nearby cottonwood, an image of the Tasmanian Devil on its snub-nosed bow. The longer, more staid kayak that she used for overnight river trips stood on its end next to the shorter boat. Bright orange. I smiled. One of her paddles leaned against her sport boat and her yakker gear, as she and I called it, was drying on a clothesline she had strung between two smaller trees.

“So what’s this big confession?” she said, interrupting my parking.

I stopped the truck before I answered. “I didn’t recognize you from the back with your new ’do. I totally scoped you.” I said it with extra silly emphasis.

She stared at me for a second then burst out laughing. “Cool. It works.” She grinned and practically jumped out of the truck.

I followed her, smiling, and surveyed her camp, glad she’d blown my comment off. “How do you get this place looking so damn homey?” I asked as she opened my camper shell and lowered the truck bed.

“Skills, girl. I can be wild in the back country, but I’m freakin’ Martha Stewart in camp.” She pursed her lips and stared at the mass of duffle bags and gear my truck contained. She quickly located my tent and handed it to me. “Get busy,” she smiled. “So we can sit around and catch up when it’s dark.” She flashed me a grin that lit up her hazel eyes and I actually felt a little spark zip down my spine, a little jolt that threatened to go lower than my back.

I gripped my tent and took it to a smooth spot under a big cottonwood. Memories of a long kayaking trip Mel and I had taken down the Payette River last summer popped into my head. Our last night out, camping on an isolated riverbank, I woke up in the middle of the night snuggled against her back, practically spooning her. After I silently freaked out about being so close to her, I decided not to move because it felt really, really good to be near her like that.

She smelled of wood smoke and neoprene and I admit, I breached a boundary and snuggled closer, so I could put my arm around her and I stayed like that for a long time until she sighed in her sleep and started to turn over. At that point, I withdrew and turned my back, staring at the side of the tent and listened to her breathing, slow and even, and I tried to convince myself it was no big deal, just part of the easy, comfortable bond we shared. Buddy stuff. I eventually fell asleep and my confused wave of attraction faded a bit in the morning light. But the memory didn’t, and somehow, it fed feelings I really shouldn’t be having.

“Did you bring your living room?” Mel pulled me back to the present.

“Yep. It’s against the cab. Grey duffle.” I watched as she crawled into my truck bed and yes, her ass did fill her shorts nicely. I chewed my lip. Maybe I was just horny. I hadn’t really dated for a few months because I’d been so busy with school and repping gear that I’d barely had time to eat and sleep. Might be a good idea to consider a fling with a tourist or another guide to work some of this out. I hadn’t done anything on summer jobs beyond a couple of make-out sessions with a forest ranger at a bar in Jackson year before last, but maybe a full-blown fling would help me put Mel in proper perspective: fellow water dog, summer friend.

Mel slid the duffle across the plastic bed liner and I hefted it off the tailgate. She smiled up at me and thoughts of other possibilities with other people disappeared like so much mist off a waterfall. Damn.

“C’mon, hotshot. Let’s do this,” she said as she hopped out of the truck. We set to work and within fifteen minutes my own four-person dome tent was up. I unrolled a four by five carpet remnant I’d scored from a friend and spread it over the floor of my tent then blew one of my sleeping pads up then pulled my sleeping bag out of its stuff sack and tossed it over the pad. The duffle bag that held my clothing went in a corner of the tent along with a pair of sneakers, a pair of light hikers, and a windbreaker.

Mel was already setting up my “living room”—a screen house like hers. She had the four corner posts staked and was pulling the roof cover taut. I removed two folding nylon camp chairs from my truck and took them out of their carrying bags. She set them up in the screen house and helped me move my two coolers in as well.

“There’s your coffee table,” she announced as she positioned the larger cooler between the two chairs. “You’re such a bachelor,” she teased as she threw a glance over her shoulder on her way back to my truck.

“What?” I asked as I followed her. “Just ’cause I don’t have Ikea furniture at my river camp like some people I know?” I reached over her head and undid the straps on the two kayaks I had brought, secured to the top of my camper shell. I had five inches on her, making it easier for me to deal with my boats. One sport, one touring, like hers. Another little spark skipped through my stomach as Mel’s back brushed my chest.

I took a step away from her and lifted one then the other off the roof rack and handed each in turn to her. She took them over to the tree where her boats stood and carefully leaned mine against the trunk next to hers. I didn’t unpack my yakker gear just yet, since it was clean and dry and didn’t need airing. It would soon enough. The first chance we got, I knew, Mel and I would hit at least one river.

“Cool,” she said, surveying my campsite with a satisfied air. “Let’s go up and see what the schedule is. Then it’s beer-thirty, baby.”

I smiled and we piled into the truck so I could park it off to the side in the guide lot before we walked the two hundred yards back up the dirt road to the main building.

“You would not believe what Travis told me,” she started as I locked up and fell into step next to her, enjoying the easy camaraderie between us. I sighed happily to myself. Another great summer in the making.

Launch

Mel handed me a beer from her cooler after we’d finished talking to Brad. We’d eaten dinner and cleaned up and now it was time to chill. She shut the cooler and covered it with a thick blanket while I twisted the cap off the bottle before settling into the chair next to hers. I could put my feet on one end of the cooler, leaving her with the other end. We’d lowered the mosquito netting on Mel’s screen house, though her citronella tiki torches about five feet away probably helped keep bugs at bay. Laughter and the pop and snap of a campfire drifted over to our end of River Rat Junction, closest to the water. I took a sip from my bottle as Mel plopped into the other chair and put her feet up.

“So, really. How are you?” She launched right into the catching up. “You didn’t mention Elaine the last time we emailed.”

I shrugged, though she probably didn’t catch the gesture. “Don’t know. Haven’t seen her in a while.” I took another drink. “What about Jill?” I surreptitiously watched her in the flickering light from the torches.

“On again, off again. We’re off right now. No biggie.”

I heard the unspoken “besides, it’s hard to find people who understand my life” at the end of her dismissive tone. Jill couldn’t deal with Mel’s outdoor streak, and Elaine couldn’t deal with mine. Mel and I had talked about that in the past, since both of us suffered from bad cases of outdoor-itis. And I wasn’t sure what it meant, but I liked that Mel was currently single. I took another drink to drown a little flare of hope.

“No Elaine. Does that mean what I think it does?”

“Off again. All around.”

Mel looked at me, disbelieving. “Nobody?”

“Nobody. Too busy, I guess.” The beer I was drinking was doing nothing for the fire Mel couldn’t see.

“It would be so easy for you to get laid,” she said, a laugh in her voice.

I glanced at her, pretending to be offended because it was much simpler than asking her if she was offering to take care of that for me. “Christ, Mel. So I’m a slut now?”

She giggled. “Please. You’re so far from slut you’re almost a damn nun.”

“Thank you,” I grumbled. “I’m so glad you have confidence in my abilities to find a date.”

She reached over and squeezed my arm. “Girl, you wouldn’t know someone was interested in you if she had her hands in your shorts and her tongue down your throat.”

We stared at each other for a moment before we both burst out laughing. I leaned back, chuckling, and ran a hand through my hair. “Okay, you’re right. I guess I read water better than women.”

“Maybe you should start reading women like water,” she said cryptically.

I regarded her, trying to deduce her meaning, but she moved on.

“Your mom still think you’re nutso? I mean, here we are in Riggins again.” She asked, raising her eyebrows.

I laughed again. “Of course. Why couldn’t I be a banker? Or a doctor? Or normal? My dad’s all right with everything, as usual. He thinks it’s cool, but he’d never outright admit it.”

She nodded, and I knew she knew exactly what I was talking about. “How’s Doug?” she continued.

“Still a rock dog. He’s in Yosemite this month, doing the Big Wall. Mom still doesn’t know how the hell she managed to give birth to two outdoor freaks.” I smiled. “I guess sometimes I feel bad for her.”

“Well, I’m glad she did, and especially about one in particular.”

I shot her a look but she kept talking.

“No newsflash on my folks. They still don’t care either way. They’re just glad I like what I do. They’ve gone more crunchy hippie groovy since last fall, even. My dad did have a moment of corporate clarity at Christmas, though. He thinks I should get an MBA if I’m planning to start my own line of gear.”

“That’s a cool idea. I hope you do start your own line. Because if anybody knows whitewater and boating, it’s you.” I sipped from my bottle.

“If you’re around and bored or something, I’d love it if you’d go in with me. And be prepared, ’cause I’m going to keep after you until I get a positive answer.” Her tone was hopeful.

“Yeah?” I looked at her, surprised.

“I think we work well together. So why not?”

I contemplated first my bottle, then her face “That’d be great. For real. Keep me in mind.”

“I do.”

I glanced at her, but she didn’t follow up. She took a drink and we sat not talking for a while, the gentle rhythm of the Salmon flowing through the campsite, its current sliding between its banks, sucking and pulling at hidden rocks and overhangs. River Rat Junction sat on a slight bend of a placid part, where two deep pools served as swimming holes. Lights from a few houses up on the rise breached the cool black of another canyon night, and I didn’t want to be anywhere else but here.

“I was thinking the other day about that first summer we met,” she said, keeping her voice low, not wanting to break the night’s harmony.

“Oh?” I thought back, remembering how she took her sunglasses off as I approached her in the parking lot outside the Missoula Safeway store, where I was supposed to hook up with other Outward Bound personnel. She had grinned at me and said, ‘Well, howdy. I’m Melanie but everybody calls me Mel.’ She was so cute. Bouncy. Genuine. I braced my bottle on the arm of my chair and turned to look at her in the dim light the torches afforded.

“And you were so quiet,” she teased, like she had just read my thoughts. “I introduced myself and you said ‘I’m Dez. Good to meet you.’ It was another week before I found out it was short for Desiree. Which is so not you.”

“Don’t I know it,” I said with a sigh. “My poor mom. She wanted some frou-frou little thing in perky dresses for a daughter. Maybe she hoped I’d become my name.”

She snorted. “Not a chance. I’ve seen those pictures of you as a kid, wearing Doug’s skanky hand-me-down shorts and T-shirts. I think you had scabs and bruises somewhere on you in every freakin’ photo.” She pinched my cheek affectionately. “A baby dyke in the making. Cute as hell.”

I blushed, and wondered if Mel saw it.

She was quiet for a bit before continuing. “And that was such a great summer, even though we worked our fucking asses off and got chewed half to death.”

“The mosquitoes were pretty outta hand,” I agreed. “And those fucking biting flies, too.”

“Oh, my God. Do you remember that second week we were out there and that moose tried to take your shirt off the clothesline?” She laughed softly in the dark. “Alaska rocks.”

I laughed, too. “That was kinda funny. Jan scared it off. Good thing, since I was butt-ass naked in my tent trying to find a pair of clean shorts.”

“There was moose spit all over the collar. So when we went back to Missoula, we had to have that Moose Drool beer to commemorate it.” Mel giggled. “Too bad they wanted to send us to the Sonoran the next summer. OB was fun until then.” She paused. “Not that there’s anything wrong with deserts. I just don’t think I could spend an entire summer in one.”

“Well, we are water dogs, my friend.” I reached my right hand over to her left and clinked my beer bottle against hers. “And we have a hell of a good time every river we run.”

“True.” She fell silent and stared at the flame of one of the torches. “God, I love rivers,” she said after a while. “Um, speaking of which. . .” she cleared her throat. “I haven’t asked you about Rob in a while. And it’s not because I didn’t want to.”

My hand tightened around my beer bottle then relaxed. “I know. I haven’t brought him up lately.”

“So. . .?”

“I’m okay.” I exhaled. “Damn. It’s been almost two years.”

She waited for me to continue.

I sighed. “I don’t talk to his folks as much anymore. Maybe once every three months. I think it’s hard for all of us because it’s just a reminder.” I started working the label off the beer bottle, putting the strips of paper in my lap. “He went out doing what he loved to do.” I picked at a particularly stubborn piece of paper. “If only we all had that option.”

“Do you still worry when you’re on the water?”

I looked over at her. “Not really. Sometimes, though, I think about what I’m doing out there. I mean, he was one of the best boaters I knew. And if he got his ass kicked, what does that mean for the rest of us?” I pulled the remnants of the label off. “But I know you can’t live that way. I love boating. I love rivers. All I can do is respect the power of each and do my best to learn the currents.” I stared at the flame from the closest torch. “He was another brother in a lot of ways.” My chest tightened. “And yeah, I miss him.”

“Hey,” Mel said softly. “I didn’t mean—”

“It’s okay.” I smiled at her. “Thanks for asking. It’s good for me to talk about it.” I held her gaze and felt something else tightening in my chest, something that made me think of last summer, when I’d accidentally spooned her. I swallowed. “So how’s the gear testing going?”

“Excellent. I’m trying out a whole new set of yakker fashion for Outside, so we have to do some seriously hardcore shit and see how much abuse it takes. It’s a new company on the scene that’s been bragging its stuff is the best for whitewater.” Even in the faint light from the torches, I could see the mischievous glint in her eyes. A little pleasurable twinge raced from my throat to my thighs. I hastily shoved it aside.

“Of course,” she added, “they obviously didn’t count on me testing it.”

“I hope you brought more than one set,” I said with an innocent note.

“Of course. Plus my own stuff. You know how I am. A little wild, but prepared.”

“A regular damn girl scout,” I agreed, teasing her. “Able to run the gnarliest rapids east of the Mississippi and still maintain a manicure throughout.”

She stuck her tongue out at me. “Why do anything if you can’t look good at the same time?”

“Um, I don’t know. Maybe because you enjoy doing it for the hell of it?”

“Purist.” She snorted.

“Diva,” I replied.

“Traditionalist.”

“Princess.”

“Definitely.” She laughed and raised her bottle in a toast. “Drink up, girl. You’ve got recon to do tomorrow.”

I smiled. “Here’s to good water and good friends,” I said as I raised my own bottle.

“And another kick-ass summer,” she added.

Definitely, I thought as I finished up and stuffed the remnants of the label down the bottle’s neck before I put it in the plastic bag designated for recyclables. “Good night,” I said as I started to unzip the netting.

“Dez—”

I turned.

“It’s really good to see you.” Something in her voice made me think she wanted to say more, but she didn’t and I figured I imagined it.

“Ditto. See you tomorrow.” I left and zipped the side up from the outside before I walked the few paces to my tent, wondering at the strange crackle in the air between us, but figured I was just glad to see her and still dealing with a weird little crush.

I took my toiletry kit and beach towel to the bathroom for a shower and when I returned to my tent, Mel was apparently already in hers, since the torches were out and her campsite was dark. I quietly approached from the side farthest away from her tent and draped my towel over the clothesline I’d strung between two nearby cottonwoods. That done, I unzipped the entrance to my tent.

“Good night, Dez,” came Mel’s sleepy voice.

I stopped, my fingers still holding the zipper pull. “’Night. Get some sleep.”

She muttered something I didn’t catch and I eased into my tent, trying to leave a fleeting thought outside. No deal. It followed me in and hovered in a corner near my clothes, where it kept replaying that night last summer, when I inadvertently spooned her and liked it way too much. I scolded myself. She’s my guide buddy. We’re tight like that. And it would fuck up the great dynamic between us if I acted on that little fantasy with her.

I put my toiletry kit on the little camp table I kept in my tent and changed into boxers and a clean tee then clicked my flashlight off and lay on top of my sleeping bag, glad for the soothing sound of the river. Within minutes, I fell asleep but Mel’s grin was the last thing on my mind.

###

The little girl was about eight, from my estimate. She studied me in that way little kids do, open and curious. She wore pink shorts, pink sandals, and a turquoise T-shirt with little flowers across the front. Long blond hair, blue eyes. Poor thing, I thought. She’d be fighting the boys off by junior high.

I smiled down at her. She’d be in my group this afternoon and I always liked to establish a rapport with kids right away. That way, they’d trust you on the water and if something happened, I knew they’d listen to me.

“Hi. You’re going to be in my boat today,” I said, letting her know why I was standing there looking at her.

She regarded me like she was trying to figure something out. “Are you a girl?”

“Yep.” The question didn’t bother me. I got used to it in grade school and blew it off in high school, when it was apparent that I was going to stand about five-ten and end up built like my brother. Angular, narrow-hipped, and sort of boyish.

“How come your hair’s short?”

“It dries faster that way. I spend a lot of time on rivers.”

She thought about that for a bit. “Do you live here?”

“For the summer. I’ve been here about a month.”

“What’s your name?” Kids were good about saying what was on their minds.

“Dez. What’s yours?”

“Britney.” She said it like she was embarrassed about it.

“That’s a nice name,” I responded, encouraging her. “Do you have a nickname?”

She shrugged. “My brother calls me Britty.”

I nodded, pretending to think about it. “That’s not so bad. Do you like it?”

“No,” she said, twisting the bottom of her shirt in her fingers. “My brother’s dumb.”

I stifled a smile. “I’m sure he likes you. He just doesn’t know how to say so.”

She shrugged again and scuffed the toe of her sandal against the wooden floor of the LSRC. “Carrie tells him to stop ’cause she knows I don’t like it.”

“Who’s Carrie?”

“That would be me,” said a college-aged woman who approached from my right. She wore a blue baseball cap over her long brown hair, rafting sandals, knee-length surfboard shorts and a tight short-sleeved shirt made of some non-chafing material that hugged her torso. She looked fit, like she spent some time outdoors. She stood next to Britney. “I’m her sister.”

Cute, I thought. And she didn’t look like I’d need to worry about her on the water. “Excellent,” I said, smiling at her. “I’m Dez and I’ll probably be your guide for this event.”

“So I heard.” She scrutinized me in a way that seemed a little too intimate though she did have a nice smile. “Dez,” she repeated. “I like it.”

I looked at her, not sure what to say. “Uh, yeah. Easy to remember.”

She regarded me beneath the brim of her baseball cap and a slow smile pulled the corners of her mouth up. “Or hard to forget.”

I was saved from further conversation because Brad paged me from the counter in his own special way. He made a bullhorn with his hands and said in a slow, loud announcer’s voice, “Parker. Dez Parker. Please join us at the counter at your earliest convenience.” A few people looked at him, then at me before resuming their browsing through the shirts and doo-dads.

Relieved, I looked back at Carrie. “Excuse me for a minute.”

“No problem.”

I went to the counter, where another woman stood talking with Brad. He was explaining that rafting trips with kids involved nothing stronger than Class II rapids, which don’t necessarily require a guide but one is recommended, especially for inexperienced boaters.

“Hi,” I said. “You must be Britney’s mom.” An older version of her youngest daughter, she looked athletic enough, I surmised. Tank top and nylon shorts that hit mid-thigh. “I’m Dez. Brad’s probably told you that you’ll be in my boat today.”

She glanced up at me. “I’m Tina,” she said as she looked past me, parental worry on her face.

“She’s over there with Carrie,” I assured her.

Tina relaxed and on cue, Carrie and Britney headed over.

“Do you have any questions right now that I can answer? Brad’s probably taken care of the technical stuff.” I looked at him and he nodded.

“Dez is cream of the crop. You’re in good hands,” he said.

“Safety and fun,” I said, chuckling. “That’s my mantra.”

Brad grinned. “Hold on a second. Be right back.” He moved away to help a couple of older men, probably part of the pre-Fourth of July weekend crowd trying to get some rafting in.

“Thank you,” Tina said, directing the statement to both me and Brad.

Britney let go of Carrie’s hand and took mine in its place. “Can I sit next to you?” her eyes widened with hope.

I smiled. “We’ll see, okay? I put people where I think they’ll be safest and have the most fun. If I think you’ll be safest next to me, you can sit there. How’s that?”

She seemed disappointed, but only for a second. She kept holding on to my hand and with her other she wound a lock of her hair around her index finger.

“Any chance I can sit next to you?” Carrie crossed her arms and smiled in a way that even I knew was flirtatious. I swallowed hard and let go of Britney’s hand.

Brad saved me again, returning with paperwork for Tina.

“Okay,” I said, clapping my hands together. “Right. Okay. Um, Brad’ll finish up and send you out back. We’ll get you all fitted with wetsuits, if you want them. The water can be cold, even this time of year.” I glanced at Carrie, who was looking at me with a cute little smile. I cleared my throat. “We’ll have our safety talk before we head out but if you have any questions, let me know.” I offered a little wave to Britney and she waved back, shy. I turned and ran smack into Mel.

“You’d make a great parent,” she said.

“You think?”

“Totally. Britney is so crushed out on you that she’s ready to sign up for guide school right now. That was so freakin’ cute, when she grabbed your hand.”

I shrugged, sheepish.

“For the record, though, I’m not very good with kids so if you bring yours river-running in the future, they’ll have to ride in your boat.”

“Please,” I chided. “You know I don’t want kids. Too much work and I’m way too selfish.” I elbowed her playfully in the ribs.

She giggled. “I don’t think I agree with the selfish part, but yeah, way too much work.” She struck a bad-ass pose. “You ready for water wars with me, hotshot? I’ve got a group scheduled with yours.”

“Oh, hell yeah. Britney and I will kick your sorry raft-riding ass.” I struck a fake karate pose. “The spirit of the water is upon me.”

“The spirit of something is upon you, that’s for sure.”

“You doubt? You doubt that the river gods will smile upon me?”

“You’re nuts.”

“You’re just chicken.”

She gave me a look. “Oh, really?”

“Really.”

“We’ll just have to see about that.” She grinned like a fiend. “Sounds like a challenge. Wettest guide buys the next case of beer.”

I bit a suggestive comment back and instead retorted, “Get your money ready.”

She made a “whatever” gesture with her hands as I brushed past, headed out back for the storage sheds where we kept wetsuits and booties, organized on racks and shelves by size. Steve and Lisa kept the sheds clean and they used round gravel to cover the floors so the wetsuits and booties could drip dry. The system ensured that suits stayed mildew-free, something for which I was ever grateful. The smell of mildewed neoprene could make me gag.

I went into the shed and beckoned my crew in, six passengers on this trip. Britney was the youngest and the oldest was a man I estimated to be in his sixties. We talked a bit while I helped people select the proper size wetsuits and life jackets. The two younger guys and Carrie opted not to wear them, but I fitted them with life jackets regardless.

Twenty minutes later, I assembled my group near the entrance of the first shed and launched into my spiel, using the opportunity to assess their physical fitness levels and “vibe,” Mel called it. If I had any misgivings about anyone, I’d take him or her aside and chat further.

“Hi, I’m Dez and I’ll be your guide this afternoon.” I said it jokingly, like a museum tour docent. It tended to put people at ease. “A bit about me. I’ve been working as a certified guide for four years. This is my second year on the Little Salmon. I’ve worked the Arkansas River in Colorado and the Snake River in Wyoming. I started kayaking when I was about ten and I’ve ridden whitewater in all western states, plus some rivers overseas.” I paused for effect. “The Little Salmon Rafting Company has one of the best safety records in a five-state region. All guides are required to be certified in swift-water rescue and first aid. Consequently, my biggest thing is safety. Straight up, folks, rivers are dangerous.”

I stood with my hands on my hips, looking especially hard at the two guys who appeared to be in their early twenties. “People die on rivers every year. The number one reason for that is because they don’t take simple safety procedures. The number two reason is because they underestimate the water and overestimate themselves.” I looked at Britney. “That means that people sometimes think they’re stronger than they really are.”

“Like my brother,” she responded matter-of-factly, nodding.

I chuckled at that then asked Tina to step forward. She had her life jacket on and buckled. I gestured toward her as I talked. “One of the easiest things you can do is wear a life jacket. And if you don’t wear one, you don’t ride with me.”

The two college-aged guys started fiddling with the plastic clips on their jackets.

I turned back to Tina. “Here’s how you tell whether it fits or not. Tina, excuse me.” I smiled and gripped her arm holes so I could pull upward. “You see how there’s not much give there?” I turned my head to look at the other five in my party. “It’s not too tight and it’s not loose. That’s the fit you want. If it’s too loose, it could block your movements if something happens. If it’s too tight, you might not be able to breathe. Thanks, Tina. Now here’s how you buckle it and adjust it.”

I demonstrated on Tina then went through my group, checking each jacket. I paid special attention to Britney’s. “Nice. Okay.” I looked at everyone in turn. “The key to rafting is not only having a good time, but being prepared for contingencies. I’m going to take us through some fast water. Some might be a little rough. There’ll be straps on the boat to hang onto. However, on occasion, someone falls out. First thing you do is don’t panic. What’s the next thing you do?”

“Get on your back and point your feet downstream,” Carrie said.

“Bingo.” I looked over at her then back at the others. “If you fall out, your jacket will keep you floating and on your back. Point your feet downstream—Britney, that’s the direction the water goes—and make your plan to get to shore. If the current is too strong in that section, ride it out as best you can but keep headed for shore, especially if you can’t get back to the boat. Use the current to your advantage. I’ll also be trying to help you back aboard. But remember, the water’s cold and the longer you stay in it, the more energy and heat it sucks out of you. So if you can’t get back to the boat, head for shore. And if someone falls out, what should the rest of us do?”

“Stay with the boat,” Carrie answered again.

“Bingo again. You’ve clearly done this before. Excellent.”

She smiled, appreciative of the recognition.

“Great,” I continued, a little uncomfortable under her direct gaze. “And why do we want to stay with the boat and not jump in after the person who falls out?”

“’Cause then we’ll all be in a shitload of trouble.” One of the young guys announced.

Before I could respond, Britney piped up. “My daddy says you’re not supposed to say that word unless you hit your finger with a hammer.”

Snickers and giggles swept through the crowd. The young man looked embarrassed.

“Sorry,” he muttered.

“Thanks for the reminder, Britney,” I continued. “But bad word or not, he’s right. If we all jump out of the boat, then there are seven of us in the water instead of one. So stay with the boat and—this is extremely important—listen to my instructions. I’m here to make sure you have a good time and get back safely. I’ve got lots of experience. So trust me.” I paused, letting it sink in. “All right. Before we get on the shuttle, everybody turn and look at that other group.”

They all did.

“You see that woman in the red jacket and blue shorts?”

Everyone nodded.

“That’s Mel. She’ll be guiding the other raft. Your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to get her and her raft as wet as you possibly can. Splash the heck out of her. I’ll buy everybody a round of sodas if we win.” I winked and lowered my sunglasses from the top of my head to my eyes. “All set? Let’s saddle up.”

My team headed for one of the vans with enthusiastic whoops. I threw a look over my shoulder at Mel, who was still doing her safety talk. She caught my eye and waved. I waved back and let my gaze linger on her a bit longer than maybe I should have. Whatever. Nothing wrong with enjoying a nice view. Plus, my shades hid my eyes.

I waited at the van’s entrance, making sure people got settled. Mel was doing the same at the van parked in front of ours. I watched the older man step up into my van. He seemed fit, but I’d keep an eye on him anyway. The water could be cold, and older people, especially, could end up with some kind of cardiac issue if they fell in. I turned to Carrie, the last in line.

“So,” she said, holding off on boarding. “I have a question.”

“Sure. That’s what I’m here for.”

She leaned a little closer and lowered her voice. “When do you get off work?”

I looked at her, a little surprised, but I answered anyway. “This is my last run today.”

“We’ll be at the Pine Lodge Grill around seven, if you’re into it.” The side of her mouth quirked in a half-grin.

I stared, but managed a noncommittal smile. What about a quickie with Carrie? It had been a while since I’d been wrapped around a woman. Carrie was cute. Athletic. Curvaceous. So why didn’t I feel much like going there with her?

“Hey, hotshot,” Mel cat-called, coming around her van. “Get your butt on in there so I can properly whup it.” She bounced toward me, pretending to box.

“I’d like to see you try,” I said, and thoughts of that quickie with Carrie fell right out of my head.

Mel looked at Carrie. “I always make room for anyone who wants to give Dez a proper whitewater initiation,” she offered.

Carrie smiled lazily at her. “No, thanks. I’m more into sight-seeing.”

Mel cocked her head.

“There’s a nice view in this raft,” Carrie explained, turning her gaze pointedly to me before she climbed into the van.

Mel’s grin suddenly looked forced. I shrugged helplessly and her expression softened a little.

“Here’s my prediction,” she taunted. “I think I’ll be drinking the expensive beer tonight.”  She struck a Vogue pose. “Fasten your seatbelts,” she said in a passable Bette Davis imitation. “It’s going to be a bumpy ride.”

I laughed and climbed into the van. I was still chuckling as we headed out to our launching point.

Riffles

“We’re even,” Mel said petulantly as she folded her clothes in the laundromat the next afternoon.

“No way. I have one over you. Yesterday and today. It’s your turn to buy the beer.” I pulled my shorts and tees out of the dryer and tossed them onto the plastic table, faded yellow and scuffed. A few locals were engaged in the same chore. Mel was busy at the table next to mine.

“Cheater.” She threw a sock at me. I caught it.

“Sore loser.”

“Nuh-uh.”

“For sure. I’m always honorable about my bets. Even when I lose.” I threw the sock back at her and she snagged it with her left hand.

“You still planning on hanging out for the Fourth?” She asked, hopeful.

The Fourth was Saturday, day after tomorrow. “Of course. Don’t I always?” I folded my shorts.

“Well,” she started. “You never know. Maybe you’ve got a date with one of the little tourist girls who got herself all crushed out on the sexy river guide. You and your tall, dark self. With your cute-ass butchy hair.”

I looked over at her. “And that’s happened exactly how many times in the past?”

She shrugged and got really focused on her laundry. “That one yesterday seemed pretty interested,” she muttered. I almost didn’t hear her.

“Which?” I stopped folding and looked at her but I knew she was referring to Carrie.

“That one. Board shorts and baseball cap.”

My turn to shrug. I concentrated on folding another T-shirt.

“Did you?”

I glanced at her, wondering about the tightness in her voice that I didn’t recognize. She kept her eyes on her own laundry, and folded a towel.

“Did I what?”

She didn’t answer right away and instead folded the towel again.

“What?” I repeated.

She raised a shoulder in a quick “you know” gesture and folded the towel a third time.

I watched her, puzzled. Why would she care? “Mel—”

“Did you meet her last night?” she blurted, as she looked up at me. We stared at each other for a long time and I almost forgot what we were talking about as I watched thoughts I couldn’t read shift in her eyes. She broke first and went back to work on the towel.

“Shit, I’m sorry. That’s none of my business.” She finally finished with the towel and started on a T-shirt. If it took her as long to fold that as it did the towel, we’d be here a while.

I concentrated on my own shirts. “No,” I said after a while. Weird. She sounded jealous. Like Carrie could ever replace Mel.

She stopped and looked at me. “No, what? That it’s not my business?”

“Jesus,” I said, grimacing. “No, I didn’t meet her.” I resumed folding. “I checked the paperwork when we got back. She’s twenty. And you know my rule.” If she can’t buy her own booze, I don’t follow up.

Mel seemed to relax but it was short-lived. “So if she was twenty-one. . .”

I stopped again and took a deep breath. “Mel, what the hell? She was cute. And interested. So what if I feel like getting some?”

She glared at me. “So that’s all it is to you?”

“Wha—oh, for Christ’s sake. What’s wrong with you? I’m an adult and I’m not in a relationship. What do you care?”

She didn’t respond and I let the question hover over us as we went back to folding in silence, a little guilty because it was kind of a crappy thing to say, to imply that she shouldn’t care. Then again, why did she care?

After a while, I stole a glance at her. She was really cute when she was mad or frustrated about something because she unconsciously pushed her lower lip out in a slight pout.

“So I’m a ‘sexy river guide,’ huh?” I said, trying to break her mood.

She frowned.

I cocked an eyebrow at her. “ ‘Cute-ass butchy hair’? You’re one to talk, with your hot-ass new ’do and your tight little body. Maybe you’re the one with the hot date.”

Her frown faded and I thought for a second she was blushing. “Whatever.” She started to fold her underwear.

I turned my attention to my own clothes. Mel wore great panties. Sporty little bikinis in all kinds of colors and patterns and I felt like a pervert, getting a little thrill over her underwear. Or rather, on thoughts of getting her out of it.

“When’s your next full day off?” she said suddenly, and I knew she was over whatever was bugging her.

“Friday.” I added a folded T-shirt to my stack.

“Think you could spare some time for a little yakkin’?”

I stopped folding and looked at her. “Do bears shit in the woods?”

“Not if they’re at Yellowstone. Then they shit in your tent.”

I laughed. “Yes, Mel. I can spare some time for yakkin’ with you, my ultra-best most fun river guide buddy. You wanna scout a stretch when we’re done here?”

She smiled at me and I knew it was an affirmative. Sweet. Some time with Mel. We’d both been so busy we hadn’t had any bonding time except for one short kayak trip two weeks ago. I watched her out of the corner of my eye, and suppressed an urge to reach over, run my fingers through her mop of hair, and kiss the living hell out of her. Instead, I finished folding my clothes and we loaded our baskets into her Subaru.

“North or south?” she grinned at me as she started the engine.

“South. Let’s check the Payette. Travis was saying the North Fork has some great water.”

“Cool.” She backed out of the parking lot and eased onto the blacktop. “I still have to wear out that second set of gear from that company,” she said, mischievous.

“I’d be honored to be in your presence when that happened.” I pretended to be serious. We both laughed as she accelerated into the early evening shadows that managed to reach the canyon floor. I opened my window and sighed contentedly, glad that whatever had rubbed her the wrong way seemed to have moved on.

###

Saturday, a few of us gathered around the fire pit in front of Brad’s tent to watch the fireworks the locals shot off, in spite of the ban. Mike lay on his side near Brad’s tent, oblivious to the snaps and muffled booms. He was snoring as only a big lab can do. The dog was unfazed about everything.

Travis and Jenny sat together, holding hands. They cut an odd pair. He, a big, broad dude and she, a small petite brunette. Jim, a compact, muscular guy who wore his blond hair in a ponytail, was hanging with us as well, and Mary, one of the new guides, was on her way over. Because beer and a water dog lifestyle often coalesce into feats of juvenile silliness, by the time Mary arrived we had a rousing game of Truth or Dare going.

“Travis,” Brad said at his turn. “What’ll it be, pal?”

“Truth,” he answered, clearly not willing to take another chance on dare.

Brad took a swig of beer. “What’s your favorite sexual position with Jenny?” He waggled his eyebrows and we all hooted. Jenny turned five shades of red.

“Shit.” Then, “Any,” he said triumphantly and we all laughed.

“Good answer,” Mary interjected as she opened her camp chair and sat down. Jim passed her a beer.

Three rounds later and it was Jenny’s turn again. “Mel.”

We all turned to look at Mel.

“Truth or dare?” Jenny smiled mischievously.

“Um, truth.” Mel smiled and propped her beer on her thigh.

Jenny leaned forward. “Do you have a non-celebrity crush on anyone right now?”

“Damn. Should’ve picked dare.” She sighed. “Okay.” A feisty little grin pulled the corners of her mouth up. “All right,” she said, looking directly at Jenny. “Yes.”

I started, like someone had thrown cold water on me. A weird sick feeling churned in my stomach.

“And everybody here in this group knows who it is.” She sipped her beer.

We all sat in silence, staring at her.

“Damn,” Travis finally said. “Do we know that we know?”

Mel sat back, smug. “That’s another question.”

My stomach clenched and I couldn’t breathe. Images of all the guides at River Rat Junction flashed through my mind. Who was it? There weren’t that many women. Maybe Mel had a crush on a guy? I didn’t know. I didn’t want to know. And I didn’t want to play anymore even as everybody else let their breath out in a collective “oooh.”

“That’s juicy.” Jim leaned back and took a swig from his bottle. “Of course, a handsome guy like me, it’s clear I’m the object of your deepest desires.”

Brad choked on a laugh and Jenny snorted.

Mel shrugged and raised her bottle to her lips. Her eyes seemed to twinkle in the light from the dying fire. Speaking of crushes, I thought, a sour taste in my mouth. I now understood exactly why they were called “crushes.” Because they crushed the shit out of you.

I stared at my feet and when I looked up, Mel met my eyes with hers, a worried expression on her face. I made a show of looking at my watch. “Well, as much as I’d like to hang out here and pry more information out of Mel, I’m on early tomorrow.”

Jim nodded. “Same here. Y’all carry on, now. But I want a full report.” He smiled and stood up with me. I forced a grin.

“No fair,” Brad grumbled. “Next game, it’s open season on Dez.”

I shrugged. “Hey, a girl needs her beauty rest. Good night, all. Catch you in the morning.” I left before anyone said anything else but I didn’t go back to my tent. I went down to the river, to a sandy stretch that served as a beach. Brad, Jim, and I had dragged a log here a month ago and I sat on it, listening to the water as it rushed past in the dark. A few lone firecrackers snapped in the distance. I clenched my teeth and stared up at the sky, not sure why I was freaked out. It was only a stupid high school game. Mel might have fibbed. Maybe she just wanted to mess with us.

And why the fuck do I care? So I have a freakin’ crush, too. Whatever. It’ll pass. I angrily pushed Mel out of my head and stared at the river. The moonlight on the water made me think of Rob. He used to love to sit near a river after dark like this and I’d joined him many times, because he was really easy to talk to. Moreso than Doug and that’s why I came to think of Rob as a second brother. I learned a lot about rivers and boating from him, and I still had one of his paddles on my back porch at home. But I also learned a lot about living from him, too, and a lot about sorting things out.

On nights like this, when the sky spread like an ocean overhead and the stars seemed to shift like rafts in its waves, I really missed him. And if I was trying to figure something out, he’d let me vent as long as I needed to. Tonight was definitely a vent night. I dug the toe of my sandal into the damp sand, frustrated. Rob would probably say, “Damn, Dez. Just fuckin’ tell her already. She’s cool, so if she’s not into you like that, no problem. She’ll still chill with you.”

Would she? Would she really be okay with it if I admitted I wanted her more than anybody I’d ever met? Or would she just look at me, kind of embarrassed because I basically handed my heart to her and she couldn’t accept it, because she didn’t feel the same way? I kicked the dirt. Well, duh. Of course she didn’t feel the same way. She’d practically announced it during Truth or Dare.

I heard footsteps scuffing across the gravel and sand and I knew who it was before she took a seat on the log to my right.

“You okay?” Mel asked.

I wanted her to disappear, to leave me with my confusion and memories, but I also wanted her to stay. “Yeah,” I lied. “Just hanging out.”

“You want to talk?”

I heard concern in her voice. “No. I’m okay.” My fingertips hurt from where they dug into the wood.

“You’d tell me if something was really bothering you, right?”

“Sure. Don’t I always?” I hoped she didn’t pick up on the edge in my tone.

She didn’t respond and instead she stood up and put a hand on my shoulder. “You know where to find me.” She squeezed gently. “Good night.”

“Thanks,” I said to her retreating back, thinking that she wanted to say something more but didn’t. I willed my ass to remain planted on that log, willed my sandals to remain on the ground because if I didn’t, I’d be throwing myself at her, telling her stupid shit like nobody in the camp was good enough for her, that nobody really understood her or knew her moods. Nobody there could ever run a river with her and truly appreciate her skills and her gifts. Nobody. Except maybe me.

I glared into the darkness, irritated at my arrogance and completely weirded out about whatever the hell these feelings for Mel were attempting to be. I tried to visualize us hugging and saying goodbye at the end of the summer, like we always did. I tried to visualize emailing and calling every once in a while, like usual. Tried, but couldn’t. Instead, I only wanted to sneak into her tent and snuggle up against her. I wanted to kiss her and get sweaty with her and slide over her bare skin like the Payette’s current over the bow of my boat on a hot day. I rubbed my temples, physically attempting to banish those thoughts. It’s Mel, dammit. My guide buddy.

Summers on the water just made me freaky. Everything is condensed time-wise. You live a lifetime in a month, it seemed. I exhaled slowly. So how come she hadn’t told me about her crush? Maybe that’s what bothered me. We confided in each other, so why hadn’t she told me? I frowned. Because she didn’t want to hurt my feelings. Maybe she knew I might be into her and she was letting me down nicely with a little hint during a stupid game.

That thought sucked almost as bad as thinking about her with someone else. I stood and headed back to my tent. I had work to do tomorrow, and I needed to just get over this. Near my screen house, I stared into the dark and then over at Mel’s tent. She was getting ready for bed, I knew. She kept a battery-operated camp lantern in her tent and I saw her silhouette in its glow, sitting on her sleeping bag. I chewed my lower lip. Sure. I can get over five summers in a day or so, I thought sarcastically. Who doesn’t? Happens all the time.

I unzipped my tent and retrieved my toiletry kit before practically yanking my towel off the clothesline on my way to the bathroom. After I got ready for bed, I lay awake in the dark for a long time, thinking about all the summers Mel and I had spent together, about how easy it was to be around her and how I felt most like myself when she was near, and how I didn’t need the Fourth to get fireworks because every time I heard her voice or laugh or saw her smile, I had a head full of them. I finally fell into an exhausted sleep, hoping that the morning light would help clear my head.

Hung Up

I didn’t see much of Mel until Monday evening when I went to the bar a couple hundred yards up the road from LSRC to have a beer with a few of the other guides. Like every other place in Riggins, the interior was trying hard to be northwoods meets western pioneer but with a dose of river rat. The tables were a mixture of round and square, all heavy dark wood, with matching wooden chairs like you might see at a Red Lobster. Overall, it was kind of cheesy but also homey, because the floor was wooden and worn and everybody who came here was friendly.

The group had already pulled a couple of tables together and Mel was part of the group. She waved when I sat down at the other end of the table from her then went back to talking to Ashley, one of the rookie guides.

“Hey,” Jim said. “What do you want?”

“Anchor Steam.” I handed him a five and he went up to the bar. Whatever Mel and Ashley were discussing, Ashley was clearly enjoying the topic, because she was smiling and she reached over and touched Mel on the arm. Mel said something else and Ashley laughed, a little too loudly, I thought.

Jim returned with my beer and set it down next to me as he sat down to my left, partially blocking my view of Mel. I took a sip, but it didn’t taste as good as it usually did. Ashley leaned toward Mel in that way women do when they’re attracted to someone and I realized, at that moment, that Ashley had to be Mel’s crush. Bad enough to find out about it. Now I had to see it. Ashley said something and Mel nodded and made one of her silly gestures and I couldn’t even swallow any beer at that point.

Why had I not seen it? I thought back over the past month. Mel and Ashley had gone kayaking a couple of times, I knew, and they’d been on the same guiding shifts a few times. And, now that I remembered, Ashley had stopped by Mel’s camp more than once the past two weeks to chat. She hadn’t stayed over, and as far as I knew, Mel was in her own tent every night, but gauging from how Ashley was currently staring at Mel, that was bound to change.

“You okay?”

I looked over at Travis. “Yeah. Why?”

“You seem a little off.”

“Tired. And I’ve got a headache, I guess.”

“You working tomorrow morning?”

I nodded. “I think I’ll just go to the Junction and chill.” I pushed my chair back.

“There’s some Advil at my campsite. I think it’s on the outside table.”

“Thanks, but I’m covered. Later.” I stood, waved, and headed toward the door before I had to talk to anybody else. Mel was talking to someone at the bar, thankfully, so I didn’t have to engage with her. I stepped out into the evening, my bleak mood the only company I wanted.

“Dez.”

I hadn’t even gotten past the last car in the parking lot. I stopped and waited for Mel to catch up to me.

“What’s going on?” she asked.

“Nothing. Just a little tired.” And the pain from a giant, aching hole where my heart used to be.

“You sure?” She looked up at me in the fading light, worried.

I forced a smile. “Yeah. A little headache.”

“Are you coming down with something?”

“No. Just a long day.”

She placed the back of her hand against my forehead and I pulled away. “What are you doing?”

“Checking to see if you might have a fever. Hold still.”

I did, and hoped she didn’t see how much it hurt, for her to touch me without any meaning behind it beyond friends.

“You don’t feel warm,” she said. “Is your stomach okay?”

I half-smiled. “Yes, Mom. It is.” Now please, I pleaded silently. Please let me go crawl into my hole and lick my wounds.

“Well, I’m—”

“Mel. Yo.” Jim had come outside, too, and was standing on the wooden boardwalk in front of the bar. “Truth or Dare, woman. Travis just bought you another beer.” He gestured at the door.

“Go ahead,” I told her. “I’ll catch you later.”

“Are we still on for Friday?”

“Yes.”

“Unless you don’t feel well,” she said. “Check in with me, okay?”

“That’s four days away. I’m fine.”

Ashley emerged from the bar. “Mel?”

“Later,” I said, and turned away, not wanting to hear anything else, not wanting to be anywhere near either Mel or Ashley, or anywhere near Riggins, Idaho. I kicked at the dirt as I walked. Still another month to go, and I had to find a way to make myself scarce so I wouldn’t have to see Ashley make goo-goo eyes at Mel or touch her hand or stop by her camp. The thought of Ashley staying over with Mel made me queasy. Should have told her, I thought as I walked. Should have told Mel how I felt so at least it was out there and I’d know that she had the information when she made her choice, as shitty as that was.

I lay awake for a long time, every minute longer than the one before, each making me feel worse. At eleven-thirty I heard voices and recognized Mel saying good night. I set my watch back down on the floor of my tent and listened. Nothing out of the ordinary. She wasn’t talking to anyone else. Maybe she was about to go to Ashley’s tent, which was on the other side of the Junction and the other side of hell for me.

Mel’s tent unzipped then zipped and then I heard her normal settling in for the night noises. I waited, holding my breath. Was anyone with her? I picked up my watch and checked the luminous dial again. Five minutes later, I still hadn’t heard anything from Mel’s tent so I set the watch down again and relaxed a little. A reprieve. Tonight, at least. I rolled over, dreading the next night.

Shit. I needed to stop this. I cared about Mel, and it wasn’t anybody’s fault that she didn’t feel for me what I felt for her, so I should just suck it up. I wanted her to be happy, after all. Dunking Ashley in the Payette was not going to achieve that, as much as I enjoyed the thought. If Ashley was Mel’s choice, then I needed to deal with it.

But somehow, I knew the next month was going to suck.

###

My sport kayak caught a swell in the rapids and plummeted into a trough. Water splashed everywhere, individual drops momentarily catching sunlight before they disappeared in the froth beneath my bow. I whooped, exhilarated, as the river held my boat’s hull for a split second then released it. These were Class III, which required experience, but not necessarily expert, rating.

We’d done a stretch of Class IV earlier, considered expert whitewater, and we ran it with technical precision, start to finish, though it was pretty gnarly in some spots. Here, I relaxed and executed a beautiful spin, digging my kayak’s bow into a sharp portside turn. I leaned hard to my left and caught an eddy behind a boulder so I could float in place and watch Mel.

She was shouting and laughing as she performed loops in a hole, where the current backspun and sucked downward to the riverbed. Spots like that looked like perpetual curled waves and boaters could ride in place and do enders and other tricks for however long they wanted, or however long their skills held up.

Inexperienced playboaters avoided holes because they could be dangerous if you didn’t have the strength, skill level, or confidence to ride them. And even with all that, there were no guarantees. There never were, on a river.

Mel slid her bow into the backswell then somersaulted backward, hull to the sky. She was completely submerged but reappeared a second later. I held my breath at the sight. She was so graceful that watching her was like watching the incarnation of poetry. I was considered an expert, but Mel was a hell of an expert. I loved to see her ride a river, loved how she read its nuances, and how she seemed to form a connection with the current. Uncanny, a few other guides said about her. True river rat, I knew, and even though Mel and I both grew up on rivers, and I could read water pretty well, Mel’s spirit tied itself to whatever river she rode. Within a few days, it was like she grew up on that particular waterway, or like she was an old friend come home.

I watched her hold her place on the wave, balanced on the crest like the figurehead on a ship, thinking that rivers were life to me, that the ways they flowed mimicked the paths our lives sometimes took. Calm spots sandwiched between whitewater, long stretches of both, and through it all, you hopefully hung on and kept your paddle.

Mel looped again and even from my vantage point, I saw her broad grin, saw her spirit inseparable from the water, and I knew at that moment that in spite of Ashley, and no matter what happened, I’d learn to deal with it because I needed Mel in my life, even if it was just a summer every once in a while.

Fortunately for me, she hadn’t mentioned her crush since Saturday—at least not around me—and I sure as hell didn’t bring it up. Ashley hadn’t come around Mel’s campsite all week, either, and for that I thanked every river god who might be listening. Mel had slept in her own tent alone since the night I left the bar early, and I kept entertaining the thought that maybe, just maybe, I’d get to the end of the summer without witnessing or overhearing an Ashley/Mel hookup. And today, Mel was with me, so I’d enjoy it. I was glad to be on the water with her, witnessing the ways she coaxed the river to let her play, to let her ride, to let her exist out here on the boundary between earth and sky.

Mel shot out of the hole and tore along a current that brought her right next to me. She slapped at the water with her paddle, dousing me as she raced past. Water ran off my helmet down my jacket. She laughed and the sound ran off my heart, down my veins.

“C’mon, Dez! Show me somethin’.” And she tore a line through the rapids.

If she only knew what I wanted to show her, I thought as I spun my bow downstream and gave chase, carving a different line to the left of hers, studying the water and how it flowed over the bed and between the banks. Ahead, I knew, two glowering canyon walls constricted the river’s flow, and the water tried to force itself through the bottleneck. I heard the section as we got closer, and the water roiled and roared, a lot of potentially dangerous energy trapped in one place.

I dug my paddle in hard and spun myself starboard, sliding easily around a massive granite boulder. Mel rode her line like a tightrope walker, completely certain, wholly at ease. I kept my eye on her blue splash jacket and white helmet as she disappeared around a bend, expertly negotiating a tricky slide between two more huge boulders.

I followed and increased my speed as adrenaline kicked my senses to a higher notch. I sliced between the two sentinels and skimmed to my right to avoid a hole, then jetted into a rapid whose whitecaps curled like breaking ocean waves.

Mel was doing loops and spins in a more popular and less dangerous hole just ahead and I timed my arrival to coincide with her submersion. As she popped out of the water, I nailed her with a blast of water from my paddle and skipped over the hole, accompanied by the sound of her laughter.

“Nice one,” she shouted after me.

I knew she’d catch up if she wanted to, so I stopped and practiced a few rolls and loops myself before I saw her approach. She drew closer, and shouted so I could hear her over the Payette’s dull roar.

“Last one in buys dinner.” She grinned and dug her paddle into the water, lean, powerful strokes, on her way to the tricky set of narrows. I followed, and concentrated on the current. This part could be difficult. Inexperienced paddlers generally didn’t ride this patch. I’d done it a few times, as had Mel, but rivers varied daily. Every time you ran a stretch—no matter how often—it was different than the last, dependant on the season and water level.

We’d checked that morning and learned the water level had dropped, which created a couple of treacherous sections in this chute that included a hole to the left that lurked near the canyon wall and had the potential to tip your boat and hold you against the cliff. If you flipped over, the hole wasn’t powerful enough to drag you to the bottom like some, but it might prevent you from righting yourself quick and you’d end up wearing yourself out, which was dangerous, too.

Jim and Travis ran this section last week and both recommended a starboard line, close to the canyon wall on that side until you just about hit a huge boulder. Then, like a surfer carving a wave, if you leaned hard left so your hull faced the wall for a second, you could use your paddle to keep yourself away from the hole on the left if you needed to, as long as you kept your boat in that starboard current. You might spin, Jim said, but paddle a couple strokes right then left and you should be okay.

These instructions echoed through my brain as I entered the chute and instinctively hugged the right side. I tended toward conservatism in my boating and didn’t take many unnecessary chances. Even the best water dog could misjudge something, after all. Like Rob. I quit thinking about him and focused on the water.

Mel stayed to the right and I had a full view of her back. Looking good, I thought. I hoped she didn’t get one of her wild hairs here, and I clenched my jaw but she seemed steady, so I relaxed. Suddenly, she whooped and shoved hard left. I stared as the bow of her boat caught the hole and she battled to maintain her balance. She misjudged and she spun around and the hole’s backspin easily flipped her over.

Holy shit. I jetted after her, trying to reach her boat with my paddle so I could bump it. Instead, the current pulled me toward the hole and shoved me against the left-hand canyon wall. “Mel!” I stared helplessly as her kayak stayed upside-down. Jesus. Not Mel. Please, not Mel. I dug my paddle into the hole and tried to crawl across it like I would a riptide.

Somehow, her boat bounced out of the hole and headed downstream just as she righted herself, still holding her paddle. She waved and continued downstream. Every nerve I had screamed in both relief and anger, but I concentrated on getting myself out. My stern started to get pulled back in. “Shit.” I threw myself forward into the current. It was like battling a strong magnet.

I ripped clear and slammed through the chute’s exit into a stretch of relatively calm water that left the canyon behind. No sign of Mel. “Fuck.” I scanned from bank to bank, taking advantage of the flattened river’s slower pace. Finally, on a stretch of sand along the right-hand bank, I saw her kayak, pulled up onto dry ground, one end of her paddle resting on the bow. I cruised over to the shallow water and pulled my spray skirt off the lip of my coaming before I grounded myself on shore and hefted myself out. Seething, I pulled my boat farther away from the water with one hand, my paddle in my other.

Where the hell was she? I had never been so angry with her in my life, and if I found her hiding in the bushes to play a goddamn joke on me, she’d be wearing her kayak home. I set my paddle against my boat and went over to hers, looking toward the thick underbrush and pine that lined the bank.

“Mel!”

No response. She’d better just be peeing. I glared at the bushes nearby, trying to calm down. I stared for a long time at the bushes, but didn’t see anything so I returned to my boat and reached inside for my water bottle and took a long drink, keeping an eye on the underbrush along the upper bank. I sealed the cap and was in the process of stashing it when I heard footsteps running on the pebble-laden sand. I turned just in time for Mel to tackle me.

I stumbled backward into the water and lost my footing. The cold water stung my bare calves and closed over my head. I heard Mel laughing, a sound muffled by the water that filled my ears.

“Goddammit!” I surged to my feet but Mel’s weight pushed me back under. Ultra-pissed now, I wrapped my arms around her—awkward, since I had to reach around my life vest and hers—and pulled her in as well. We wrestled like that in the water for a few seconds, Mel probably thinking it was all in fun as I hollered and swore. She kept laughing and tackled me again as I flailed in the water.

“Knock it off.” I tried to dislodge her but she held on.

“Awesome ride, huh?” She chortled as we thrashed in the water.

“Dammit, get off me.” I pushed her away and regained my balance. “Fucking idiot,” I shouted at her. “What the fuck was that?”

She stopped, breathing heavily, and looked at me, surprise replacing glee.

“What the fuck? You knew there was a hole there.” I kicked water at her. “What the fuck were you thinking? Jesus fucking Christ.”

She stared at me, water running down the creases of her jacket.

“Shit,” I continued. “You could have fucking—” I kicked the water again, furious. “What is wrong with you?” I turned away and slogged toward shore, water tugging at my knees.

“Dez,” she said. “C’mon.” She grabbed the sleeve of my jacket and pulled me around to face her. “I’m okay. It’s okay.”

The look I gave her made her release my jacket, hurt filling her eyes. She held both of her hands up, palms forward in an “I’m sorry” gesture.

“You scared the living shit out of me,” I said, sounding harsh. “What the fuck is wrong with you? You’re too good to do crap like that.” I wanted to strangle her, hug her, kiss her, kick her ass all at the same time. “Jesus,” I muttered instead.

She started to say something but I cut her off. “What the fuck? You think I want to search-party you out of this fucking river?”

“Dez.” She put her hands on her hips.

“I don’t want to hear it. You were fucking hot-dogging. In a section that could kick your ass. Hot-dogging,” I repeated for emphasis. “Just like Rob was.” I turned away, suddenly wanting to cry. I left the water and headed to my kayak, water sluicing down my helmet onto my shoulders.

“Hey.” Mel splashed after me. She grabbed my sleeve again and I turned. She started to say something but stopped and instead we just stared at each other.

“What the hell? What the hell would I do if something happened to you?” I gently pulled out of her grasp and returned to my kayak. I put it into the water and slid into the cockpit and stretched my spray skirt into place then waited for her to settle into hers. Without a word she headed downstream at a measured pace.

Fifteen minutes later we loaded our kayaks into the back of my truck. In silence, I drove north on Highway 55 to where we had put in, where her car was parked. Still not speaking, she hauled her kayak out of my truck and strapped it onto the rack of her car. I helped, though we didn’t look at each other. I waited for her to get into her car and pull onto the blacktop. I watched as she drove away, a lump in my throat that seemed to sink all the way to my stomach.

Heavy Water

Evening shadows crept down the mountainsides, headed for the river, and I imagined I could see them moving as I leaned on the wooden railing. Behind me laughter and conversation emanated from the open doorway into the bar. I didn’t know where Mel had gone. She wasn’t at camp when I’d unloaded my kayak and hung my gear up to dry. She’d beaten me back, because her stuff was drying as well, but other than that, she’d left no sign that she’d been there. Probably somewhere with Ashley, which only added to my misery.

I sighed and stared toward the river, still visible in the gloom. I felt awful about yelling at her, but the thought of losing her made me nuts, made me absolutely crazy. I took a couple of deep breaths to dispel the horrible images I’d managed to conjure and debated getting a beer. I talked myself out of it, though, and decided instead to continue my pity party.

I had to find her and talk to her eventually, but right now I wasn’t ready. I’d never freaked like that at her, and it scared me. Not because I had chewed her out, but because I could have lost her, and that made me think about my feelings for her, which I knew ran far deeper than I’d thought, which only made me think about Ashley, and that only added to my crappy mood.

A few people drifted onto the deck, chatting. They sat at nearby tables as dusk enveloped Riggins and one of the bar employees came out to light the citronella torches outside. I watched him, thinking that maybe I’d go for a drive but that seemed like too much effort so I turned back to the river and leaned against the railing again, bracing my elbows on it. Footsteps sounded to my right and Mel joined me. I clenched then unclenched my teeth.

“Truce?” She held two beer bottles and the one in her left hand she offered to me.

Relief settled in my chest. I took the beer. “It’s not about that.” I rested the bottle on the top of the railing and stared at the label though I didn’t really see it.

“I’m sorry.” She caught my gaze but I didn’t say anything so she continued. “I’m really sorry. You’re right. That was stupid. I was hot-dogging and I shouldn’t have been.”

I shifted my gaze back toward the river. “I’m sorry, too.” I turned my head then so I could see her. “You know the risks. You know what you’re doing. I’m sorry I sounded like your mom or something. I need to just shut the hell up sometimes.”

She put her left hand on my bare forearm and her palm was warm and safe but it triggered a lot more heat elsewhere.

“Don’t say that. I need to be reminded that it’s not always a game on the water. I rely on you for that. And it was kinda gnarly in there.” She squeezed my arm gently. “I deserved the lecture.”

“It wasn’t a lecture. It was a freak out.”

“Okay. Freak out. But I deserved it.”

“Maybe. Maybe not.”

“There’s no ‘maybe.’ I can be a little impetuous.”

“A little?”

“Okay, a lot.” She smiled and I fought another urge to grab her and kiss her. Instead I exhaled slowly.

“I just—fuck, Mel. It scared me. And it pushed my Rob button.”

“I know. I can be a dumb-ass, too.”

“Sometimes that’s endearing.”

“But not today.”

“No. Today it was frustrating.”

 She sighed. “I know Rob still comes up. But I also know that you’re right and I was taking unnecessary chances.” She lightly stroked my arm. I read nothing into it beyond comfort, but it felt really nice. Better than nice. It was turning me on, and that was so out of line right now.

“Are you hungry?” She raised her eyebrows.

“Probably.” I took a sip of beer, and tried to ignore how her fingers felt on my arm.

“Just probably? Not definitely?”

“Maybe.”

“I’ll buy you dinner.” She removed her hand, much to my mingled relief and disappointment.

“Don’t worry about it.”

“I’m not. I just want to. C’mon. Have a burger.”

I smiled. “Fine. It’s your money.” I followed her into the bar, painfully aware at how good she looked in her shorts. Maybe some day I’d be over what I felt for her. Maybe some day we’d laugh about it. And maybe some day the moon would fall into the Payette and carve another damn canyon.

I sat down at a table that Mary, Jim, and Jenny already occupied and decided that regardless, at least Mel was in my life in some capacity. I’d have to find a way to be satisfied with that.

“Hey,” Jim greeted me. “Heard it was pretty bitchin’ out there today.”

“Yeah. Got rough in the one spot you told us about.” I was monumentally relieved to see that Ashley was not at the table. I glanced around and didn’t see her anywhere else in the bar, either. Thank God.

Mel sat down in the empty chair to my right. “Really rough. I screwed up and Dez let me know about it.”

“Good for her. Sometimes we need to be reminded.” He flashed a smile at me.

“Yes, we do.” Mel squeezed my arm then moved over a little so the server could take my burger order.

As I finished, Jim ordered buffalo wings and I decided to have another beer. After the server left, we talked about the differences between river and sea kayaking until the food came and after we finished that, the conversation degenerated into a game of Truth or Dare. I didn’t mind this time, since the air had cleared with Mel and Ashley wasn’t around. If anything came up about Mel’s crush, I’d deal with it. That was my new mantra. Deal with it. I sipped my beer as Mary dared Jenny to tell the table when she lost her virginity.

“Too bad Brad’s not here,” Mary said after we’d all stopped laughing at Jenny’s story. “He wanted to give Dez some shit.” She brushed a strand of her reddish hair out of her face.

“Yeah, that’s right,” Jim agreed. “Well, it’s my turn and I’ll take up the banner. All right, Dez. Whatcha want?”

“Truth.”

“Wuss,” Jenny teased.

“Damn right. I’m tired. Who knows what I’d agree to do if you dared me?”

Jim studied me over the lip of his bottle. “Too bad. I can think of a lot of things. Oh, well. Let’s see. Truth. Okay, got it.” He grinned, and it had an evil little edge to it. “If you could do Mel, would you?”

I nearly choked on my beer.

“Well, duh,” Mary broke in.

Jenny giggled.

“What?” I finally managed. “A lezzie like me can’t have another woman as a good friend without rumors flying around camp?” I kept my tone light.

Mary made a “tsking” sound. “Nobody said that. I mean, come on, ladies. I heard you’ve been river buddies for five summers. When are you going to take this to the next level? Travis and Jenny did.”

I shrugged and took a sip of beer. With any luck the floor would open and swallow me. I avoided Mel’s gaze though it was practically burning a hole in my head.

“So, would you?” Jim prodded.

I tried to laugh it off. “Well, shit. Look at her. She’s hot. I mean, if I got really drunk one night and accidentally wandered into her tent, sure. But she’d immediately see it was me and she’d say ‘Dez, what the fuck are you doing? Go to bed, you freak’. ”

That brought laughter.

“So you would do her?”

I glared at Jim.

“You haven’t really answered,” Mary pushed.

I glared at her, too.

“Mary’s right,” Jenny said. “You said she’s hot, and you said if you were drunk, but the question was if you could, would you? Not under what circumstances. It’s a yes or no question.”

Jenny got one of my glares.

“And I’d actually like to know,” Mel said.

“Jesus,” I muttered as a blush heated the back of my neck.

“It’s looking like yes.” Mary laughed.

“For sure,” Jenny agreed.

“All right, all right. Yes. Now please don’t think I’m going to sneak into your tent and take advantage of you,” I said, turning my head to look at Mel.

“Too bad.” She flashed me a devilish grin and another blush heated my cheeks as everybody laughed.

“Okay, you can now tell Brad that you nailed me, Jim.” I raised my bottle to him. “And thank you for the support, the rest of you.”

“The price you pay for playing this game with us.” He winked.

I laughed. It was just a game, and Mel was joking around with Jenny, so she probably didn’t think anything about what I said beyond the usual flirty things we said to each other. The game continued another couple of rounds in which Mary asked me about my first sexual experience and Jenny asked what my current celebrity crush was. No more questions about Mel, thankfully. Another round, and it was Mel’s turn again.

“Dez,” she chose.

I sighed. “What is this? Pick on Dez night?”

Jim shrugged and reached for his beer bottle. “You’re a good sport about it.”

“Dez,” Mel repeated. She gave me a look like a cat gives a bird outside a window. “Truth or dare?” She put extra emphasis on ‘dare,’ making it a teasing challenge.

“Hell, I’m getting burned on truth, so I guess I’ll take dare this time.”

She smiled, an enigmatic quirk at the corner of her mouth. “Kiss me,” she said. “Like you mean it.”

I lost the ability to breathe properly. Everybody at the table stared first at Mel then at me.

“Fuckin’ A,” Jim said with awe in his voice. “That’s a guy’s wet dream.”

My voice froze in my throat.

“C’mon.” Mel’s smile widened. “You picked ‘dare’.”

“Hell, no,” I said, but it sounded like a squeak. “No way. You’re taking Jim’s shit way too seriously.”

Jim stared at me like I’d grown fins. “You already said you’d do her. What’s a kiss?”

“Truth or dare,” Mary said. “You picked your fate.” She smiled, smug.

Nervous, I cleared my throat and looked at Mel, who watched this exchange with interest and—and what? I wasn’t sure.

“Pick something else,” I pleaded. “Mel?”

She shook her head emphatically. “Nope. That’s my dare.” And to rub it in, she said it again, with a little flirty dig thrown in. “Kiss me like you mean it.”

I looked around, helpless. “That’s too weird. I mean, for real. Do we all make out with our friends? I think not.”

“Dare,” Jim repeated. He started chanting the word softly. Mary joined him, as did Jenny.

I leaned toward Mel and pecked her on the left cheek. “There. Happy?”

“Oh, please,” Jenny retorted. “Like you mean it, she said.”

“And you did say you’d do her,” Mary added with a grin.

“Well, yes,” I said, “but we didn’t discuss the circumstances of the doing.”

“It was a yes or no question,” Jenny said.

“What’s wrong?” asked Mel as she leaned closer, eyes seeming to spark. “Chicken?”

“No,” I snapped, but yes, I was. I was terrified, because I knew that if I kissed her, my heart would take another pummeling when Mel and Ashley got around to hooking up.

“What, then?” She leaned even closer.

But oh, God, I wanted to kiss her.

The rest of the table started chanting “dare” again.

More than anything, I wanted to. But not like this. Not as a showcase. “If I’m going to kiss you,” I said, “it will mean something.”

She regarded me for a few moments and I didn’t recognize the expression in her eyes but something about it set a bunch of butterflies loose in my stomach.

“Kiss me, Dez.”

The rest of the table fell silent, waiting.

I looked at her and I heard my blood pounding through my veins, like whitewater slamming through a narrows. I wavered. We were in a bar, after all. We weren’t the only ones in here. But Jim was right, in a weird way. I’d already said I’d do much more, so what was a kiss? This was just a game, right?

I set my bottle on the table. I’d get burned for this later, but when would I have another chance? I reached up with my right hand and cupped the left side of her face. She started, surprised, like she hadn’t thought I’d actually go through with it. She leaned into my palm and I watched her eyes, thinking that I could get lost there, that I wish she’d let me but all I had was this one chance. My only chance. Better make it memorable. I brought my lips close to hers and her breathing sped up, hot against my mouth. Her eyes were half-closed and I slid my right hand along her jaw until it rested at the back of her neck and I pulled her gently toward me, closing the slight gap between us, bringing her lips to mine.

Oh, God. Her mouth felt like velvet. Warm, moist velvet. I explored her lips with mine, then with the tip of my tongue and before I talked myself out of it, I slipped my tongue between her teeth and to my amazement, she reciprocated and her mouth moved against mine and she ran her hands up my thighs to the point where my shorts began and held on. I covered her right hand with my left, and trapped it there against my bare skin while I maintained my hold on the back of her neck with my other hand. I wound my fingers into her hair and fireworks blasted through my skull and between my legs as I slowly pulled away. Her breath came in shallow gasps.

“Damn,” Jim said in hushed tones. “That’ll keep a guy warm at night.”

“Fuckin’ hell,” Mary added, eyes wide.

I sat back and picked up my beer bottle, trying to act nonchalant though the pounding of my heart reverberated in every corner of my body. “There. Satisfied?” I took a sip, surprised that I was able to do it without choking.

“Can I have a turn?” Mary sounded like she was only half-joking. “If that’s how you kiss your friends, what do your girlfriends get?”

“I generally don’t kiss and tell.” I grinned at her, hoping I didn’t sound as rattled as I felt.

“I wish Travis was here,” Jenny said. “He could learn a few things.”

“Well?” Jim looked at Mel.

She shook her head, a little dazed. “Damn. I’m definitely asking for that dare again.” She picked up a cocktail napkin and pretended to dab at her forehead with it.

“All right, whose turn is it?” I tried to move us along, though I wanted to run out back, jump off the deck, and fling myself into the river to cool the burn beneath my skin and the ache in my soul.

“Forget it. No one can top that,” Mary said. “Game over.” She raised her bottle in a toast. “Seriously, Dez. If you ever feel the need for some more, um, practice, just stop by my tent.” She stood. “Anybody want to walk back with me?”

“I will,” Jim said. The rest of us nodded and stood as well, which was a relief for me. We were going in a group and I wouldn’t have to deal yet with what happened.

We paid our final tab, left a huge tip, and headed out. I purposely walked at the end of the group opposite Mel and laughed and chatted with her, acting like it was no big deal, like I kissed women like that all the damn time. As we neared the LSRC building and turned down the final stretch for the camp, I let my guard down. Mel seemed fine, so I breathed a little easier, said my good nights, and headed for my tent.

“My tent’s always open, Dez,” Mary called after me.

My face flamed and I was grateful for the darkness. I got my stuff from my tent and headed to the bathroom to get ready for bed. I didn’t know where Mel went, and maybe that was okay. This day had been totally insane and I really needed some alone time to figure out what I wanted to do with my feelings. Maybe I should just tell her anyway. So what if she had a crush on Ashley? No way could Ashley feel for Mel what I did. No fucking way. I’d known her for five years and I’d spent every one of those summers with her, spent more time on the water with her than Ashley ever could, and. . .I stopped brushing my teeth and stared in the mirror, deflated. It didn’t matter what Ashley felt, because Mel had a crush on her and no matter what I did or said, I couldn’t change that. Crushes were funny that way. They picked you, not the other way around.

I finished in the bathroom, went back to my tent, and settled into my sleeping bag, mind churning. Would Mel freak out or would she just blow it off as a dare and we’d continue with our friendship? Even if she ended up with Ashley longer-term than a summer fling, I wanted to retain a friendship with her. Though how that would work for her, I didn’t know. Still, as far as I was concerned, kissing her was the turn-on of the century, and I’d have that until the moon fell and carved that extra canyon. I fell asleep, my lips still burning.

Capsize

“Hey, hotshot,” Mel said in greeting the next morning. “You ready for some water wars? Becky needed to do some stuff, so I traded shifts with her.”

“Yeah. Always ready for water wars. Especially with you, of course.” I lifted my shades and regarded her, searching for some clue as to how she was feeling after the kiss. I knew how I felt, and it was only getting worse because the memory wouldn’t stop replaying itself.

“Excellent. You know the drill.” She grinned. “Loser buys the beer.”

“Are you implying that I’ll be buying beer tonight?”

“Yes. And I’m an expensive date.”

I was about to say something in response when an older woman with a ridiculously huge sun hat approached Mel and politely asked a question about wetsuits.

“Catch you later,” I said, and turned away to tend to my own group, glad that Mel seemed okay with things. Which was disappointing in a weird way. I’d been hoping that it had affected her like it had me, but it didn’t look that way. Deal with it, I told myself. Freaking deal with it. Time to go to work, anyway, and get my head in the game, though I wished I’d never kissed Mel because though she wasn’t acting weird, I felt weird and it would take a while to get back to how things were. I resolved never to play Truth or Dare again. But on the ride to the put-in, I changed my mind about everything again. I was glad I had kissed Mel, because it was a marker for how I wished things could be. And it would have to do.

At the put-in, I got everybody positioned and turned to look at Mel’s raft. She caught my eye and waved then pointed at me in a “you’re toast” gesture.

“You wish,” I mouthed back at her.

She nodded, smiling, and set to work getting her crew settled.

The rest of the trip was a blur of yelling, laughing, and water flying everywhere. Both of us had ended up with groups whose members averaged in their teens and late twenties, so everybody was only too fired up to splash and carry on like a bunch of kids with water pistols. By the time we arrived at the downstream put-in, everybody was drenched to the skin. Each team rode back to the main office in separate vans, and once there, I bought sodas for my team and hers.

“A tie, huh?” Travis looked at me from the other side of the counter.

I shrugged. “Everybody really got into it, so I figured everybody deserved some spoils of war.”

“That’s mighty honorable of you. So who’s buying beer?”

“I am,” Mel said as she came in from the back, drying her hair with a towel.

“Let’s call it a tie.”

She looked at me, gave me a little smile, and handed me a dry towel. “In which case, who buys the beer?”

“I’ll buy.”

“Geez, Dez, after last night, Mel should buy the beer.” Travis giggled the way a teenaged boy would, and my face flamed. “Heard it was epic,” he added.

“That’s what you heard?” I snapped.

He gave me a look, raised his hands in a “no reason to be touchy about it” gesture and turned to ring up a customer.

            I glanced over at Mel, realizing she had heard the entire exchange. “Thanks for the towel,” I said in a bad attempt at changing the subject.

“Thanks for defending my honor.” She grinned. “You want to meet at the bar for that beer?”

“Sounds good. What time?”

“Four? I’m on wetsuit duty today.”

“Four it is. I’m going to run by the store. You need anything?”

She thought for a moment. “Can you get me some bananas and yogurt? You know what kind I like.”

“Will do.” See you at four. I turned away, nervous in spite of the mundane aspect of the conversation.

“And Dez?”

I turned back.

“It was epic.” She smiled and returned to the back, leaving me staring after her and wondering what exactly I was supposed to say to that and what it meant. Nothing, that’s what. It was just our usual banter. I draped the towel over my shoulders and left.

###

“Hi.” Mel motioned at the empty barstool next to hers. She was drinking her usual, an Anchor Steam. “You want one?” She held her bottle up.

“Not really in the mood for that.” I settled onto the stool. I wasn’t even sure I was in the mood to be here, one-on-one, with her.

“Porter mood?”

I chuckled. “Yeah.”

Mel flagged the bartender down. “Rogue porter,” she ordered for me. “You want chips and salsa?”

“Sure.”

She placed the basket of chips between us along with the salsa.

“I put your yogurt in your cooler. Bananas are on your table.”

“Thanks.”

The bartender put a pint glass full of beer in front of me.

“My tab,” Mel said. She gave me a look when I opened my mouth to protest and I shrugged.

The bartender nodded and moved down the bar to help another customer.

I sipped. “Ah, perfect. Good day, good beer, good company. Next round’s on me.”

“That’s fair. So when’s your next full day off?”

“Monday, I think.”

“Shit. Mine’s Tuesday. What about after that?”

“Friday.”

“Damn. How about next week?”

“I’ve got Tuesday off. But we could do a half-day before that, maybe.”

“Cool. I’ll check my schedule and yours, and we’ll see what works.”

I nodded and took another drink, and wondered if Mel felt as awkward in this conversation as I did. “Where?”

“Salmon? Scope campsites?”

“All right.” I took a chip out of the basket and dipped it into the salsa. Though we were talking about things we usually did, something seemed off. “Look, Mel—”

“Hey,” came a voice behind us. “How’s it going?”

If nothing else, Ashley had really crappy timing. Or maybe not, under the circumstances. “Hi,” I said, trying not to sound irritated.

“Good.” Mel gestured at the chips. “Want some?”

“No, but thanks. There’s a group of us over there. Want to join us?”

Jim approached, then. “Hey, guys. How about another game?”

“Are you nuts?” I stared at him. “No way will I go through that again.”

“After a few beers, you might,” he teased. “Mel?”

“Sure. In a minute.”

“Cool.” He moved to the end of the bar with Ashley to order drinks and I was left with an awkward silence and Mel. And Mary.

“Hi, you two,” she said with extra innocence. “Anything interesting going on?” She looked at Mel then me.

“Beer, chips, and salsa,” I said.

“Too bad. You joining us?”

“In a minute,” I said, fighting more irritation.

“Good. And Dez, I’m up for a little interesting.” She winked. “Any time.” She went to join Jim and Ashley.

“God,” I said, under my breath, but Mel heard it because she looked over at me.

Ashley returned with a beer. “Haven’t seen much of you. What’s been going on?” she asked Mel and I took that as my cue.

I drained my beer and set the glass on the bar. “Catch you later,” I said, more to Mel than Ashley and I got off the stool. No way was I going to hang out playing Truth or Dare with both Mel and Ashley. I’d rather run rapids on a pool floatie. “I’ll buy next time.”

“You going to be around tomorrow?” Mel asked, her gaze locked on mine.

“I’m doing an all-day, but tomorrow evening, probably.”

“I’ll stop by.”

“For. . .?”

She gave me a funny look. “Um, to talk to you?”

“Okay. Later.” I left through the back, because I really didn’t want to walk past a table full of people who were probably gossiping about the kiss. And I also needed time to dread tomorrow’s conversation with Mel, which I was sure was going to be sort of like a “Dear Joan” letter. But I’d tell her. I’d tell her exactly how I felt, and that would be that. I clenched my teeth. The price I was paying for that kiss was a lot harder to swallow than I’d imagined.

###

“Hey,” Jim said in greeting as I worked to hang up a batch of neoprene suits that I’d hosed off inside and out.

“Hey.” I looked over at him. “Get some good water in today?”
            “Yeah. We tried that run again that you and Mel did last week, and it’s still pretty rowdy. Then we ran a super smooth stretch a couple miles south of that. Found some nice-looking spots for camping.”

“You’ll have to show me on a map.” I finished organizing the kids’ sizes and moved to the pile of women’s wetsuits.

“Remind me. You on tomorrow?”

“Yep. We’re booked solid. Looks like all hands on deck.”

He grunted a response and fiddled with a toothpick he’d been chewing. “How are things with you and Mel?”

“Geez, Jim, just let me know what’s on your mind when you’re up to it.” I looked over at him.

He shrugged. “I will. So how are they?”

“Um,” I stalled.

He leaned one shoulder against the door jamb of the storage shed and crossed his arms. “Did that whole Truth or Dare thing fuck stuff up between you?”

“Why?” I started putting booties back on the shelves according to size.

“You guys haven’t worked a shift together in a few days and I just wondered if that was by design or—”

“Not mine. Sometimes we work the same shifts, sometimes we don’t. Brad schedules us the way he thinks works best. We’re working together tomorrow, actually.” I put another pair of booties up.

“So are you still hanging out like usual? I mean, I’ve seen you together maybe three times since that night.”

“Yeah.” I put two more pairs of booties up. Mel hadn’t stopped by the other night like she said she was going to, and that bothered me, too. I turned to look at him. Maybe talking about it would make me feel better. “But it’s weird.”

He cocked his head. “Good weird or bad weird?”

I half-laughed. “I don’t know. She hasn’t really mentioned it. And we still talk like usual—” I ran a hand through my hair. “It’s like nothing’s changed but I keep feeling something has and neither of us wants to really talk about it.” At least Ashley hadn’t been around much. Small consolation.

Jim moved aside as Travis came in with an armload of suits he’d finished hosing off. “Okay to just drop ’em here?” Travis indicated with his foot.

“Sure,” I answered.

He did and brushed past Jim, bumping him playfully as he went outside. I took the top one off the pile and put it on a hanger.

Jim sighed. “I feel bad. I shouldn’t have asked you that one question, maybe.”

I looked at him, surprised. “Damn, dude. That’s a total girl thing to say,” I teased.

He shrugged, a wan smile on his lips.

“Look, maybe it’s good to just have it out in the open.” I hung the suit up and reached for another one.

“So you do have feelings for her?”

I avoided his gaze and put the suit on a rack.

“Hey, if you don’t want to talk about it, that’s cool.” He pushed off the jamb and started to leave.

“Yeah,” I said, and he stopped and instead came inside and took up a position nearby, against a wall.

“Yeah,” I continued. “I do have feelings for her. More than just ‘like’.” I made quote marks in the air with my fingers. “More than just summer guide buddy.”

Jim smiled. One of his front teeth was chipped, and it gave him an endearing boxer-esque look. “So tell her.”

“It’s complicated.” I picked up another suit.

“What? All she can do is say yes or no.”

I looked at him and shook my head in a “you poor thing” motion. “Mel and I are tight.” At least, I hoped we were.

His expression said “And?”

“C’mon, Jim. Haven’t you ever been friends with a woman and you got to be really close and then one day you realized you wanted to be more than just friends? And you told her, and she freaked and then you lost the friendship, too?” I jammed a hanger into the suit crooked and the hanger’s end made a funny little tent in the neoprene. I adjusted it, and decided not to mention Ashley. Things were already complicated.

“Okay, good point. But what if she likes you that way back and she’s wondering why you don’t say anything? So you don’t and she waits and waits and then moves on?”

I stopped messing with the suit and stared blankly at the gravel floor. Was that even possible? With Ashley in the picture? I hung the suit up. “This is all ‘what ifs.’ I mean, maybe this is how it’s supposed to be. Maybe she figured out how I feel and it freaked her out.” I turned to look at him. “And she’s distancing herself, to save my feelings.” That thought hurt, even more now that I’d verbalized it. “Besides, she doesn’t feel that way about me.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I think she’s got her eye on somebody else.” I readjusted a suit I’d just hung up.

“Who?”

I shrugged. “Just somebody else.”

“Are you saying that because you’ve got reasonable suspicions or because you’re just talking out of your ass?”

“Suspicions.” I hung another suit up.

“I doubt it.”

I picked up the last suit. “So what makes you the big expert?”

“First, I’ve worked a ton of shifts with her the last few weeks, and we’ve had to do a lot of other shit together, too, and there’s nobody coming around that she’s showed any interest in. Not that way, anyway.”

“So maybe she saves that for after hours.”

“Look, I’ve worked two summers now with her. Mel’s not the type to sneak around. Second, you fuckin’ floored her with that kiss. I’m a guy, yeah, but even I can tell when a woman feels something. And she was totally feeling something.” He nodded once, emphatically.

I laughed, a little nervous, and hung the suit up. “Whatever. You’d feel something, too, if some woman suddenly planted one on you.”

“That goes without saying.” He pushed off from the wall. “But this is different. She felt something more than just a turn-on.”

“Well, shit, Dr. Love. How many people are talking about it?”

He grinned. “Christ, Dez. Everybody’s talking about it. Mary practically had an orgasm describing it to Brad and you know how his tent is gossip central.”

“Great.” I sighed. “Just fuckin’ great. No wonder Mel won’t say anything. She’s totally mortified.”

“I seriously doubt it. Jenny thinks Mel’s trying to figure out how you really feel about her.”

I deflected that. “I suppose there’s an office pool, too.”

He sucked air between his teeth. “My money’s on Mary.”

“Excuse me?” I stared at him.

“I give her another week, tops, before she shows up at your tent. She’s been so hot for you since that night she’s probably melted all her underwear.”

“Ew. God, Jim. Do you mind?” I smacked him on the arm. “She’s straight.”

He laughed. “Doesn’t matter. She’s all into trying new things. But to avoid that, you’d better start sleeping in Mel’s tent.”

I smacked him again, but I was laughing, too, and I hung up the last suit.

“You want to grab a burger?” he asked as I headed out the door.

“Nah. Not tonight. I finally have an evening to chill. Thanks, though. And thanks for the talk.”

“Sure.” He followed me outside. “Good luck,” he said, and smiled before he headed down the road to the camp.

I waved and padlocked the shed then took the keys back into the main building, where I gave them to Steve then left, headed down the road to the river.

Falls

My Tevas crunched on the gravel and little puffs of dirt flew up from my footsteps. As I neared the guide parking lot, I heard voices and laughter from the various campsites. I forced myself not to look toward Mel’s, because then I’d get caught up in thoughts and feelings that I didn’t yet have a place for. I knew she had the afternoon off and that she’d gone boating on the Little Salmon, but I didn’t know who she’d gone with and I didn’t really want to know, especially if she’d gone with Ashley.

That brought a whole bunch more thoughts up, none of them pleasant. I jammed my hands into the front pockets of my guide shorts. If Mel felt something for me, then why hadn’t she told me? Easy. She was attracted to Ashley, like she’d hinted that night that seemed like a lifetime ago. For all I knew, Mel might have already started something with her. Maybe that’s why she hadn’t come by the other night when she said she would.

This train of thought proved relentless, unfortunately, and I stopped at the entrance to my screen house, staring at my toes. Or Mel had already started up with Ashley and then dared me to kiss her for the hell of it and she realized it was too damn weird, to be making out with your buddy like that. So she’d been backing off. Maybe I should’ve pushed Jim about whether he thought Mel was into Ashley. I ran my hands through my hair. Or maybe I should just ask her.

I chewed my lip. No, I didn’t want to know and I really hoped I was long gone from here, headed back to Portland, before she went public with it. Or on the last day I’d do what Jim suggested and tell her that I couldn’t stop thinking about her, that she moved me in all kinds of ways, and that I wanted to be more than a friend. I made a little growling, frustrated noise. Nuts. That was nuts. River buddies, dammit. That’s what we were, and that’s how it would stay. But the thought stuck, even as I fired up my Coleman cook stove for spaghetti.

As I was heating the sauce for the pasta, Mel appeared, wearing her customary nylon shorts and sleeveless tee. She looked like she’d just showered. “Hey,” she said in greeting. She sounded glad to see me.

“Hey yourself. You had dinner yet?” I gestured at the pot of linguine that sat on the burner I’d just turned off.

“No. Is that an invite?” She grinned and I melted, despite my resolve to remain the pleasant river buddy.

“Yep.”

“Excellent. I have some bread. Be right back.”

I watched her as she walked to her own screen house, about ten yards distant, watched the familiar way she moved, and sighed, frustrated as hell.

“Well, look at that,” I said when she came back. “That’s some fancy bread you’ve got there.”

“I told you. I’m the Martha freakin’ Stewart of River Rat Junction.”

I smiled and piled pasta on her plate and poured sauce over it. Mel liked my sauce so I gave her extra. I handed the plate to her and she took it into my screen house, where she set it on the blue cooler. She dug into the red cooler and pulled out a bottle of water. “What do you want to drink?”

“Water.”

She pulled another bottle out of the ice and water and wiped it on her shorts. She set it on top of the blue cooler next to hers as I unzipped the living room and entered. I zipped it back up. She tore off a hunk of bread and handed it to me as I sat down across from her.

She took a bite and chewed. “Yum. I love this sauce.” She closed her eyes, savoring.

I lowered my gaze to my plate, and concentrated on my food.

“I’m sorry I didn’t come by the other night. A bunch of us got to talking and I didn’t want to wake you up because I knew you had the early shift.”

“I wondered.” And it felt like she’d been avoiding me the past couple of days.

“Sorry.”

“Thanks.” I moved the conversation to river-related things and as long as we talked about that, it flowed easily enough. I relaxed about halfway through the meal and by the time we had finished and cleaned up, I had reached a point where I could almost ignore that she might be getting cozy with Ashley. By the time we were done cleaning, full darkness enveloped the camp and I lit my citronella torches outside my screen house.

“You want a beer? Wine cooler? Anything?” I coaxed as we went back into the living room, in a valiant attempt to maintain my river buddy persona.

“Iced tea,” she flipped open the red cooler and pulled a bottle out. “You want one?”

“Sure.”

She wiped both bottles on her shorts and handed me one then plopped into a chair. I took the other and we sat like that for a few minutes, sipping.

“Been busy,” she said. “Can we make a date for yakkin’? You still have Tuesday off, right?”

I glanced over at her. “That’d be great. Yeah.”

She sat back, thinking. “Then it’s settled.” She took a drink and we lapsed into what I thought was a comfortable silence. I sank deeper into my chair, just glad to have her near, even with the weirdness.

“Can I ask you something?” she said after a while.

I lowered the bottle of tea. “Of course,” I said, though I would rather have torn out of there, gotten into my truck, and driven until I was too tired to think or talk, especially if it involved anything that related to her or my feelings.

She hesitated, like she was trying to find the right words. “Have you. . .ever had a crush on someone and you decided to find out how the other person felt about you but you didn’t want to be direct about it?”

I bit back a groan. Great. She wanted to talk about Ashley.

“Yep,” I said, hoping she couldn’t hear the growing misery in my voice.

“Yep, what?”

“Yep, I’ve had a crush on someone and I wasn’t sure how the other person felt.”

“Did you try to follow up?”

“Yeah.”

“What happened?”

“It was Shelby. Remember? I knew her for half a year before I tried anything. And she wasn’t into it.” I shrugged. “I told you I thought I misread some of her signals. And it was kind of a bummer because she didn’t want to be friends afterward. I guess it freaked her out.” That had stung, when Shelby had stared at me like I had grown a tail or something, and she said she was flattered but she really had to go and she practically ran out of the room.

“And I told you that maybe she really did like you and didn’t know what to do with it,” Mel said quietly before she took a drink of tea.

“Don’t know. Maybe.” I shifted my weight, uncomfortable all over, and stretched my legs out. The silence hung between us now like a wet blanket. “What’s up?” I finally said, preparing myself for the worst. Spill it, girl. Finish the crushing part.

“I’m not sure.” She leaned back and studied her bottle of tea, which she held in her lap. “Something is, but I’ve been having a hard time talking to you about it.”

I looked over at her. This was so not Mel. “Is that why I get the feeling you’ve been avoiding me the past couple of days?”

She sighed. “Yeah. I’m sorry about that, too. I know I usually tell you if something’s on my mind, but I’m not sure how to handle this.”

Anxiety sank in my stomach like a big, cold rock. “Back to the original question. You like—um, you’re attracted to someone and you don’t know for sure how they feel about you.”

“That sums it up.”

I imagined my heart falling right out of my chest and bouncing into the dust of the campsite. “And you’re having a hard time talking to me about it?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

She looked over at me, confusion in her eyes.

“Because you’re afraid of how I’ll take it?”

She sagged in her chair. “Yes.”

I started to pull the label off my bottle. “What do you think will happen?”

She shrugged. “You’ll freak out and stop talking to me.”

We were in the same raft on this, but for different reasons. “Have you told this person how you feel?”

“Not really. I mean, not in so many words.” She continued to stare at her bottle. “I thought I was giving off the right signals, but I don’t think it’s working.”

“How come you think that?”

“I guess it’s not reciprocated. Not like I want.” She sounded really bummed.

Shit. She was really into her. And because I cared about her and wanted her to be happy, I’d suck it up and help her get there, though I’d much rather run a mile of Class IV naked with no paddle. “Okay, so you want me to ask this person how they feel about you? I can be subtle.” Please, I thought. Please, somebody. Beat me with a playboat. Hard.

She didn’t respond right away and I turned to look at her. The expression on her face said, as clear as if she’d written it down and shown me, “are you completely out of your mind?” But there was also something else underneath. Relief? Amusement?

“Subtle? You?”

“Yes, Mel, I can be subtle. And I want you to be happy. If that’s going to make you happy, then I’ll do my best to help you get there.” I tried to ignore the sinking, wrenching feeling in my gut.

“You want me to be happy?”

“I’ve always wanted you to be happy.” I meant it. Even if it wasn’t with me.

She smiled. “That’s a sweet offer. But I don’t think I’ll need to take you up on it.”

“Why not? You seriously don’t think I can be subtle?”

“Dez, there are many things you are, but in this case, I don’t think it would help.”

I slumped in my chair. “You don’t trust me?”

“It’s not about that.” She shook her head. “Let me try this. I have another question.”

“Great,” I said with a dramatic sigh, trying to lighten my own mood as well. “Keep the deep thoughts coming.”

“I will. Why did you kiss me?”

My lungs stopped working and the roaring in my ears wasn’t the river.

“I mean, I know I dared you to, but seriously, you didn’t have to.”

“Well, why did you ask?”

She turned to look at me and even in the dim light from the torches, I could see the expression in her eyes. “I wanted you to,” she said, with a “duh” inflection.

My lungs contracted and I tried to keep my voice steady. “Well, there you go. Same here.” I shifted my gaze to one of the torch flames, willing myself to stay calm. She wanted me to?

“So it wasn’t about the game?”

I exhaled slowly before I responded. I needed to choose my words carefully. “Mel, I told you then that if I was going to kiss you, I would mean it.”

“And did you?”

I ran a hand through my hair. If I told her the truth, it might screw everything up. If I didn’t, it might do the exact same thing.

“Dez?”

I opted for truth. Might as well. No going back now. “Yes,” I said. “I did. I wanted to kiss you. A lot. Okay? And I’m sorry if that weirds you out, and I’m sorry if it’s been weirding you out since then. So can we please just move on and still be friends? Because I really don’t like that you’ve been avoiding me and that you’re afraid to talk to me.” I said the last words in a rush and sat up in my chair, my right leg bouncing nervously.

She smiled and stood. “Thanks. I’m not weirded out and yes, I’m still your friend.” She put her empty bottle in the recyclables bag. “How about we talk about this later?” She looked at me, thoughtful and amused, maybe.

“If you want.” I stood as well, wondering what the hell there was to talk about.

“See you in the morning. Thanks for dinner.” She smiled again and unzipped the mosquito netting. I followed her outside and zipped it up and watched her walk to her tent again, watched her crouch, and go inside.

What the hell? I stared at her tent for a long time. I’d just told her I wanted to kiss her, and she wanted to talk about it later and off she went. Talk about what? And if she had wanted me to kiss her, what did that mean? I was really confused now, and didn’t know what to do with it so I took myself to the bathroom and showered.

Reading the Water

I finished showering and returned to my campsite, where I hung my towel on my clothesline and tried to avoid looking over at Mel’s tent. I was unsuccessful, but tore my gaze away after a few seconds so I could unzip my tent and go inside. I slipped out of my shorts and tee and put on a pair of boxers and tank-top then stretched out on top of my sleeping bag and turned my flashlight out. I listened to the river on its endless journey, muttering its secrets to the night and I thought about what might be underneath Mel’s questions and comments.

I turned over and stared at the entrance, frustrated. She said she wasn’t weirded out and that she’d still be my friend, and it did feel good to have the whole kiss thing out in the open. Plus, she said she wanted me to kiss her. That was good, right? But what about Ashley? I sighed.

Mel was really into her, from her reaction over dinner. But if Ashley wasn’t into her, maybe I had a shot. . .?  I let myself visit the land of hope, but didn’t stay long. Damn. She would have told me. Mel was fairly direct, always had been. I turned over again and stared at the wall of my tent, like maybe the different view would bring a new perspective. The sound of the river finally helped me relax and I shut my eyes and started to drift toward sleep. I was nearly there when a noise at my tent entrance pulled me out.

I opened my eyes and held my breath, listening, but my heart was pounding in my ears. Coyote? Raccoon? Maybe one of the town dogs. . .had I sealed up the trash? I reached with my left hand for my flashlight, trying to be quiet.

“Dez,” came Mel’s voice, soft.

“Jesus Christ,” I whispered, trying to get my heart to stop pounding. “You scared the shit out of me.”

“Sorry,” she whispered back.

I heard the zipper of my tent and I sat up, watching the entrance as she came in. She hunkered on the floor and zipped it back up. I could see her shape and I heard another couple of noises that I guessed were her shoes as she dropped them onto the carpet.

“What’s going on? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” She moved closer. I could just make out her face in the dark.

“What—”

“Shhh.”

Her fingers pressed against my lips and my heart started pounding again, but not from fear. And then she pushed me back onto my sleeping bag and I was so shocked I didn’t resist. This had to be a dream. Had to be. Please, don’t wake up, I pleaded with myself.

She braced herself on her knees and hands above me, one hand on either side of my head and she put one of her knees between my thighs and I didn’t care if this was a dream. I’d ride it like a line through a stretch of the gnarliest rapids on record. She lowered herself against me and I automatically wrapped my arms around her. When her bare legs touched mine I sucked my breath in and waited for the dream to end but it didn’t. It got better.

Her breasts pressed against mine and I thought my head might explode and then her mouth moved lightly over mine and she stroked the side of my face with the fingertips of one of her hands. This wasn’t a dream. This was incredible. Her lips brushed my chin then my cheek and tracked along my jaw to my neck, where she nuzzled the hollow of my throat. I groaned, throbbing in every possible part of my body. I moved my hands down her back, over the fabric of her T-shirt. She sighed and wrapped her fingers in my hair as she nipped at my neck.

“Mel—”

Her lips grazed mine, interrupting my half-formed thought. Her mouth lingered and I kissed her, my hands on her hips, holding her firmly against me. My boxers were already damp. She moved against me and kissed me harder, pushing her tongue between my lips. I sucked on it and pulled a moan from her throat and another surge of moisture from my core.

I worked my hands under her shirt, marveling at how warm and soft her skin was beneath my palms. I followed the lines of muscle that defined her shoulders and back, strengthened from years of paddling, and let the fingertips of my left hand rest at the waistband of her shorts. She kept kissing me, hard, then soft and deep, then delicately, like she was sipping me. I buried the fingers of my right hand in her hair, what I’d wanted to do since I arrived, and pulled my lips away from hers. She made a tiny noise of protest that stretched into a languid sigh as I kissed her throat and drew long, slow lines with my tongue. She smelled a little like citrus and a hint of coconut.

I nuzzled the place where her neck met her shoulder, then worked my way back up and gently sucked her earlobe between my teeth. She exhaled, a quick, short burst, and began thrusting slowly against me. My boxers were no longer damp. They were soaked. She pulled gently out of my grasp and straddled my hips while she pulled her shirt off and tossed it aside, a hell of an invitation.

I sat up, Mel on my lap, and kissed the space between her breasts before I talked myself out of it. She pulled me close, hands in my hair, and I took one of her nipples between my lips, teased it with my tongue, and every nerve I had burst into flame.

She gasped and her fingers clenched in my hair as I sucked first one then the other and as her fingertips dug into my back, I groaned, practically on the verge of orgasm just being this close to her, doing to her what I’d been aching to do for months.

“Take your shirt off,” she said in a low, urgent voice near my ear. Her hands tugged at my tank and I let her finish the job. She tossed my shirt across the tent and ran her hands over my shoulders and down my arms. Chills shot through my veins and erupted into goose bumps. I shivered and leaned my forehead against her chest as she explored my upper back and neck with her fingers.

“You make me so hot,” she said against my hair. She cupped one of my breasts and gently massaged my nipple with the tip of her thumb. I nearly shot out of my skin and without really thinking about the ramifications of what was happening, I extricated myself from our position and used my weight to push her back onto my sleeping bag. I balanced above her and tried taking my boxers off with one hand. It proved frustrating but Mel helped and I kicked them off then turned my attention to her shorts.

And at that instant, logic smacked me in the head. I hesitated, my fingers curled around her waistband.

She must have sensed my uncertainty because she covered my hands with hers. “What?” she whispered, concern in her voice. “What’s wrong?”

I released her shorts and pulled my hands out from under hers. “I can’t.” I sat up, a different kind of ache in my chest than the one at my core.

“What? Why not?”

I sighed.

“What’s wrong?” She took my hand again and interlaced our fingers.

“I—” This is so not fair.

“Dez?” She stroked the back of my hand with her thumb.

“Ah, hell. Don’t think I don’t want to. Don’t for a minute think that. There’s nothing I would rather do than be with you right now.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

I pulled my hand away from hers. “I can’t do this one time. I can’t wake up tomorrow and pretend this never happened and go back to just being your river buddy. I can’t do that.”

“Dez—”

“I want more than that,” I admitted aloud to her for the first time, and though I expected extreme weirdness to follow, I was glad I finally said it. I climbed off her and sat cross-legged at the bottom of my sleeping bag. “And I don’t want to be a substitute for whoever your crush is,” I added as an afterthought, bracing my elbows on my thighs. I held my head in my hands and hoped I wouldn’t cry.

She didn’t say anything for a moment and then my sleeping bag rustled as she moved closer. I felt her fingers on my hand, tentative. She was trying to pull my hand away from my head. I let her.

“Um, this isn’t direct enough?” I heard a smile in her tone.

“What?” I lowered my other hand and faced her. Even in the darkness, I could pick out her facial features.

She took my hand. “Jesus, Dez, I know you’re really bad about figuring out when a woman wants you, but I’m sitting here half-naked with you.” She laughed softly.

I opened my mouth to say something but she cut me off.

“It’s you.” She stroked my fingers with her thumb. “You’re the crush.”

My chest contracted. Me?

“It’s been you all along. But it’s not really a crush anymore.” She ran her fingers through my hair then caressed my face. “It’s way more than that. Has been for a while.”

I stared, trying to pick out her expressions in the dark. My heart felt like it was swelling behind my ribs. “Why didn’t you just tell me? Especially since you know how bad I am about stuff like this?”

That got a giggle. “I was afraid to. For all I knew, you didn’t feel that way about me. And I didn’t want to lose you as a friend if you weren’t into it.”

I thought about it for a few seconds, and then it hit me. “So you didn’t say anything and instead you dropped hints.”

“I thought the kiss might be a pretty good hint. Apparently not,” she said, and laughed. “Jesus. I’ve never met anyone who could be so dense about when someone’s interested in her. I thought for sure a woman demanding that you kiss her would make you think she was interested, but I forgot who I was dealing with, apparently,” she said, and I could tell she was smiling. “Most people figured it out. Except you, of course. I thought the kiss, and me saying I had a crush, would clue you in.”

I groaned. “Oh, God. I’m an idiot.”

“Yes, in this case, you are. It’s kind of cute, though annoying.”

“Annoying?”

“Very. I couldn’t get you to clue in.”

“Usually you just tell me stuff.”

“This was a little different.” She stroked the side of my face, then stopped. “Wait—you didn’t think you were my crush? Did you think I was interested in someone else?”

Shit. “Um, yes. But it doesn’t matter anymore.”

“Who?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“I’m curious. Who did you think I was interested in?”

“Ashley,” I relented.

Silence.

“I’m sorry. I just—you know how I am. I just can’t figure shit out sometimes. You said you had a crush on someone in camp, and then Ashley was hanging around with you, and I just assumed—”

She laughed. “You’re actually half-right. She did ask me out a couple weeks ago.”

My turn to be silent. Dammit. I knew it.

“And I said no. Firmly but nicely. She took it well.”

She said no. Mel said no. “I should have just asked you.”

“Yes, you should have. Why didn’t you?”

“Scared. And then I was all set to just ask you but you didn’t stop by the other evening.”

“I’m really sorry. Why didn’t you follow up on that?” She started stroking my face again.

“I don’t know. Confused, I guess.”

She smiled and kissed me, a soft meeting of lips that lingered a few seconds. “Dez, why the hell would I have asked you to kiss me if I wasn’t interested in you?”

“I don’t know. Maybe you just felt like doing crazy things during that game.”

“I did. But it was also my dumb-ass attempt to see what would happen,” she said with another soft laugh. “I thought it was a good way to get your attention because it was a game and I figured nobody but you would take it seriously. Besides, I’d at least get to kiss you.” She positioned herself cross-legged in front of me, hands on my thighs, like they’d been the night I kissed her the first time. And the way her hands moved on my skin made me wet all over again.

“What if I hadn’t?” I covered her hands with mine.

“I knew you would,” she said impishly. “It was a dare and you wouldn’t want to let the audience down. Or me.” She squeezed my thighs.

“You’re right.” I exhaled, relief and happiness coursing through my veins. I lifted my hands and Mel ran hers farther up my thighs. My heart rate soared to Class V whitewater speed.

“I’ve never been kissed like that,” she said. “I tried to act like it was no big deal but—” she paused. “I was actually glad we didn’t see each other much afterward because I didn’t know what to do with how I was feeling. I knew I wanted more from you than just friends, but I didn’t realize how much more.”

I clenched my teeth as Mel moved her hands just a bit closer to my heat before she slowly pulled her fingers back down my thighs. I exhaled again, sounding a little shaky. “And now?”

She leaned in and kissed me, her lips soft and gentle against mine. She stopped after a long, delicious moment, but she kept her mouth close to mine. “Now, I want to stop talking about this.”

“Mmm,” was all I could say as she brushed her lips over mine again.

“And I want you all over me,” she murmured against my mouth. “Direct enough for you?”

“God, yes,” I whispered as I pushed her onto her back. She helped me take her shorts off and I stared down at her in the gloom of my tent, awestruck. I’d seen her naked before. Hell, we changed clothes around each other quite a bit. But I’d not seen her through the eyes of a lover and she tore my breath away. I ran my fingertips down her abdomen, felt her shudder beneath my touch.

“You’re amazing.” I straddled her left thigh and she pulled me down against her.

“And you’re about as wet as the Payette,” she said, hands wandering down my back.

“True. I hope you want to do something about it.”

She didn’t say anything. Instead, she took my lower lip between her teeth and sucked slowly while she moved her leg so it rubbed against me in a really delicious way. I groaned and felt her smile against my mouth before she peppered my neck with light kisses, leaving little sparks in their wake.

“I am so turned on right now,” she breathed against my shoulder. “I can’t believe how good you feel.” She wrapped her fingers in my hair and thrust against me and everything I felt gathered in the dreams between us. I ached to move her, to taste her on my skin, to breathe her in and tie her smile to my bones.

I traced lines with my fingers all over her chest and stomach, and kissed her neck, marveling at how her skin reacted to my touch and how her sweat tasted like sunlight. I smelled the earthy, musky odor of her arousal and desire flooded my senses.

She took my hand and guided me lower. “I need you,” she whispered.

My fingers slid through her heat and moisture and my heart hammered my ribs and skipped several beats even as I easily found her entrance and hovered there, breathing like I’d just run a mile-long stretch with a broken paddle.

“Inside,” she said with an urgency I’d never heard in her voice.

I slid two fingers in and she arched, welcoming me with a thrust and groan. Her left hand dug into the small of my back and her right clung to my left shoulder.

“Dez.” She gasped and pulled me close and stared into my eyes.

I smiled and lowered my head and caressed one of her nipples with my tongue, the rhythm of my mouth matching that of my fingers.

Her breathing came low and ragged and she held my head firmly against her breast, both her hands in my hair. She pushed harder against my fingers and I positioned the top of my thumb just right. I sensed when she was almost ready and I stopped moving as she started to crest, keeping her there for a few seconds. She groaned low in her throat and I plunged my fingers deeper, feeling her contract around them as she released and fell back onto my sleeping bag. She whispered my name and I kissed her forehead as she relaxed against me and we stayed like that, lying on our sides for a while until I carefully withdrew and gathered her in my arms. She sighed and snuggled into my embrace. I felt almost drunk.

“I really hope this isn’t a dream.” She stroked my face. “Because that would suck if I woke up in my own tent tomorrow, alone and dressed.”

I chuckled. “That would suck.” I brushed a kiss across her lips. Her hands slid down my back and I watched her eyes, still not completely believing that I was lying here naked with her. She tensed then and rolled out from under me, pushing me at the same time so that I ended up on my back. She kept her eyes on mine and I felt her fingers brush the insides of my thighs.

“Is this okay?” She seemed to be studying my face.

I smiled and she kissed as she entered me and I strained against her hand, powerless in the waves of sensation her fingers evoked. All I could do was moan incoherently.

“Mmm.” Mel nibbled on my neck. “If you taste this good here, it’s got to be better elsewhere.” She moved off me, still working me with her fingers and then she teased me with the tip of her tongue, then increased her speed, licking and sucking even as she continued thrusting. I clamped my mouth shut to keep from waking up the camp and possibly the entire town. I stopped breathing and all sound faded as I came so hard I swear I nearly lost consciousness before I collapsed, my hands tangled in Mel’s hair. She stayed that way for a few minutes, her head on my stomach. I stroked the back of her neck and shoulders, lost in the connection between us.

She gently withdrew and stretched out next to me, left leg over mine, head on my shoulder. Her hand rested on my abdomen. “Okay?” she said after a while.

“More than okay,” I assured her, hugging her again. “You?”

“Definitely. And totally blown away.”

“That makes two of us.” I kissed the top of her head.

She made a contented noise and snuggled closer. “I’m kind of glad you’re bad about knowing when someone wants in your pants.”

“How come?”

“Because of all the random women out there wanting a shot at you. You don’t notice.”

“Random women? What random women?”

She made a tsking noise and played with a piece of hair over my forehead. “Please, Dez. I’ve seen women get that look around you.”

“What look?” I teased.

“The one I had when I dared you to kiss me. And the one Mary’s had since then.”

“Oh, God. Please. Not Mary.”

“Can’t blame her. You’re cute. Super cute. And an awesome kisser.”

“Mary’s straight.”

“But willing. And she obviously has good taste. I’ve always thought you were cute.” She kissed my cheek, a sweet gesture that made me all melty inside.

“The first time I met you,” she continued, “I figured you weren’t into guys, which was cool for me because then I’d have something to talk about with you.” She giggled. “Then as I got to know you, I realized you’re pretty fuckin’ sexy and I started wondering what it would be like to—” she laughed, shy, and cleared her throat. “Um. . .I wondered what it would be like to be more than your friend.”

“Ditto.” I caressed her hip. “It’s been on my mind for a while.”

“Like since last summer, when you spooned me the last night we camped?”

I stared up into her eyes. “You knew? I thought you were asleep.”

“I pretended I was. You were against me for a long time before you put your arm around me. I was hoping you would.”

“Geez,” I muttered. “And here I was thinking I’d done something totally stupid.”

“I rolled over and I thought maybe you’d stay with your arm around me and then I’d—” She ran her fingers down my chest. “Act on how I was feeling,” she finished.

“I freaked out a little that night,” I admitted.

“I know. I figured you were shocked that you’d done it, and you didn’t want me to ever know about it and that it was an accident, and you didn’t have any feelings like that for me.”

I pulled her closer, wondering why the hell I’d kept fighting myself this long. “I didn’t realize until that night that I might have feelings for you. More than friends.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” She sounded a bit surprised and maybe disappointed.

“And ruin being friends? I didn’t know how you felt. I didn’t want to lose you as a friend. It was too new then, and I thought maybe it was just a momentary lapse of sanity.”

“Excuse me? You think you’ve ever actually been sane?”

I nodded. “Maybe once or twice.”

“Once.”

“Which time was that?”

“When you spooned me. Then you went insane and didn’t follow up. But you were going to finally tell me this summer, weren’t you?” She said it sternly, like a grade school teacher.

“I was working up to it. My original plan was to wait until the last day here and tell you and then drive away really fast and if you followed me, then I’d know you were into it. If not, then I’d be really bummed.”

“That is so melodramatic,” she whispered. She adjusted her position and kissed me. “And so not like you.”

I kissed her back before finishing my thought. “I didn’t know what else to do. I don’t have any point of reference for this. I’ve never fallen for a buddy before.” I felt her smile against my lips.

“Me, either. But I really, really like it.” She started moving against me in a way that made my heart rate speed up again. “We’re not on first thing tomorrow,” she coaxed.

Every part of my body responded. “You know they’ll all know what happened when you leave my tent in the morning.”

“Mmm hmm,” she breathed as she nibbled on my ear, sending chills up and down my spine. “Like they don’t already think it.” She sucked on my earlobe then released it. “C’mon sailor,” she whispered. “Let’s give ’em something else to talk about.”

I didn’t need further persuading.

Off Season

Winter in Portland kind of depressed me. I sighed and pushed my textbook away. Tired of studying, tired of not being able to hit the river as often as I wanted, grumpy because I hadn’t seen Mel in almost two months. I stood and walked over to the front window and frowned at the gray December sky. Gray evening. Gray mood. Gray everything.

My last final was tomorrow and then I’d finish packing up and drive to San Diego to meet up with Mel. I smiled. Sea kayaking and beach camping with my girlfriend. Now that was a Christmas break. Girlfriend. I liked that term for her. Liked it a whole lot. One more semester of coursework and then we’d figure out where we wanted to base while I worked on my thesis and she developed a business plan. Somewhere near a river, we both agreed.

I went into my kitchen and made a pot of decaf. I needed to go through my notes again and then I’d call Mel, the best part of any day. I poured a cup and added half-and-half, stirred, and rinsed the spoon off before I set it on the counter next to the pot. I went back to the table in the front room of my rented bungalow and sat down. The papers strewn across the table silently waited for me to continue working with them

I knew this stuff inside and out, but one more pass wouldn’t hurt. I set my cup down and pulled my textbook in front of me, resigned to another hour. My cell phone rang. Mel’s tone. I grinned as I answered.

“Hey. Thank you so much for interrupting,” I said as I leaned back in my chair.

She chuckled. “Hi, sexy river guide. Gettin’ to you, huh?”

I heard her grin through the phone and my heart raced. “You always do.”

“I’m flattered. But I was referring to the studying.”

“Oh, that. Yes. And then some. What’s up?”

“I can’t wait to see you.”

“Ditto. I’ll start driving tomorrow afternoon. I should be there Friday night.”

“That’s two days too many,” she said, sounding petulant.

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.” She paused. “But seriously. I can’t wait.”

“I’ll keep you on speaker all the way there,” I offered.

“I have a better idea.”

“And that would be. . .?”

She didn’t respond.

“Mel?” I said to the silence. Still no response. “Hello?” Dammit. Lost connection. I lowered my chair legs to the floor and stared at my phone. No, the connection was fine. Puzzled, I put the phone back to my ear and at that moment, I heard footsteps on my porch and a key in the lock. I stared, frozen, as the door opened and Mel entered. She shut the door behind her and stood looking at me, holding her cell phone and wearing a backpack. Her rain jacket was wet.

“I’m impatient.” She shrugged, grinning broadly.

“Impulsive,” I said, stunned, as I stood.

“Maybe a little.”

“Maybe a lot.”

“Like you didn’t know that about me.” She giggled and took her backpack off and set it on the rug by the door before she started walking toward me.

I met her halfway and wrapped her in my arms, oblivious to her wet jacket.

“I missed you.”

“Ditto. When—” I started.

“I bought the ticket last month. I’ve been dying to tell you.” She kissed me then pulled away. “I thought you might like the company on the drive. I know I will.”

“You are too much.” I laughed and ran my fingers over her damp hair and kissed her forehead.

She hugged me, head on my shoulder and we stood there together. “Truth or dare?” she said after a while, looking up at me, eyes sparkling.

I smiled. “Dare. Totally.”

She cupped my face in her hands. “Kiss me,” she said. “Like you mean it.”

End

For more information about the author and about other works by this author, keep reading…

Andi Marquette was born in New Mexico and grew up in Colorado. She completed a couple of academic degrees in anthropology and returned to New Mexico, where she decided a doctorate in history was somehow a good idea. She completed it before realizing that maybe she should have joined the circus, or at least a traveling Gypsy troupe. Oh, well. She fell into editing sometime around 1993 and has been obsessed with words ever since, which may or may not be a good thing. She currently resides in Colorado, where she edits, writes, and cultivates a strange obsession with New Mexico chile.

You can find her at www.andimarquette.com

Want More Andi?

Land of Entrapment

Book 1 in the New Mexico mystery series

K.C. Fontero left New Mexico in the wake of a bitter break-up to take an academic fellowship in Texas. With a doctorate in sociology and expertise in white supremacist groups, she’s on her way to an academic career. But a plea for help from her ex, Melissa, brings K.C. back to Albuquerque to find Melissa’s troubled younger sister. Megan has disappeared with her white supremacist boyfriend and K.C. knows she has the expertise to track the mysterious group, and she knows she’ll be doing a public service to uncover it. What she doesn’t know is how far into her past she’ll have to go to find both Megan and herself and the deeper she digs into the group, the greater the danger she faces.

Read an excerpt at www.andimarquette.com

State of Denial

Book 2 in the New Mexico mystery series

The body of a young gay man buried along the Rio Grande leads Albuquerque police detective Chris Gutierrez down a path of dark secrets and old hatreds. Trying to deal with the other detective assigned to the case—the sexist and homophobic Dale Harper—Chris tracks the killer to an older unsolved case, and to the doors of a local mega church and a popular minister with ties to ex-gay groups. Enlisting the research skills and networks of sociologist and best friend K.C. Fontero, Chris works to build the case and make an arrest before the killer strikes again, even as she must also face her growing feelings for attorney Dayna Carson. Struggling with her attraction to Dayna and the complexity of a difficult case, Chris is drawn into an ominous and potentially deadly game of cat-and-mouse with a man who might kill to protect his own secrets.

Read an excerpt at www.andimarquette.com

The Ties that Bind

Book 3 in the New Mexico mystery series

When the Albuquerque paper reports that an unidentified white man was found dead along a remote stretch of road on the Navajo Reservation in northwestern New Mexico, UNM sociology professor K.C. Fontero thinks she might be able to use the case as an example of culture and jurisdiction in one of her classes. But it’s soon apparent that this dead man might have something to do with a mysterious letter that River Crandall, brother of K.C.’s partner Sage, recently received from the siblings’ estranged father, Bill. What does the letter and Bill’s link to a natural gas drilling company have to do with the dead man? And why would Bill try to contact his son and daughter now, after a decade of silence?

From the streets of Albuquerque to the vast expanse of the Navajo Reservation, K.C. and Sage try to unravel the secrets of a dead man while Sage confronts a past she thought she’d left behind. But someone or something wants to keep those secrets buried, and as K.C. soon discovers, sometimes beliefs of one culture jump the boundaries of another, and the ramifications could be deadly.

Read an excerpt at www.andimarquette.com

Andi does science fiction, too.

Friends in High Places

Book 1 of the Far Seek Chronicles

Space bandit and trader Torri Rendego and the crew of the Far Seek are trying to acquire a shipment of opals from the mining colony of Newburg, on Earth. But the hated Coalition is upping security to break up smuggling rings, and Torri stands to lose a lot of money and her reputation in her networks if she can’t complete the contract. As if that wasn’t bad enough, Torri’s former Academy bunkmate and captain in the Coalition forces has been stationed in Newburg, as well, for her expertise in breaking up smuggling rings. Then someone else takes an interest in Torri’s background, which she’s kept carefully hidden for years, and in her livelihood, and she’s caught in a web of deceit and power in which she stands to lose much more than money. Will the bonds of the past overcome Torri and Kai’s current affiliations? And will they be able to complete their conflicting missions in the face of great danger?

Includes the Torri and Kai short story “Games with Chance.”

Read an excerpt at www.andimarquette.com

A Matter of Blood

Book 2 in the Far Seek Chronicles

Outlaw Torri Rendego can’t shake her past, which most often involves Kai Tinsdale, her former Academy bunkmate and now commander in the hated Coalition forces. Torri is convinced the Coalition is up to no good on Kai’s family holdings and she decides to investigate. Problem is, the Coalition is definitely up to something, and Torri and the crew of the Far Seek have to pursue an outrageous plan to gather information and pass it along to Kai somehow.

But even the best-laid plans can go dangerously awry, especially where Kai’s concerned. Risking herself, her crew, and a tenuous tie to a shared history, Torri goes deep into Coalition territory to uncover a secret with far-reaching consequences for a distant and ancient culture. The stakes of this venture may prove way too high, even for a gambler like Torri.

Read an excerpt at www.andimarquette.com