“So, how do you feel about camping? I know this great site we can go to and not have any neighbors or be bothered for the entire weekend.” I twisted my scarf around in my hands as I waited for Scott to respond.
I desperately wanted to spend more time with Scott, but I knew a part of me needed him to enjoy the outdoors as much as I did. Did he want to sleep outside? Did he want to go hiking every season of the year? Did he like to kayak? Paddleboard? I wanted to be outside when it was sunny and when it was snowing.
“Camping? You like camping?” Scott started on a tirade about his favorite places to hike and I had a hard time not pulling him to me right then.
As I listened to him talk about the different hikes and campsites he talked about, I wondered how many times he had actually been camping. The way he was talking about tents sounded like he had read a few articles and watched a few movies about camping. The more Scott talked, the more I knew he was just making it up as he went.
The more he talked, the less interested I became. And the less interested I became, the more animated he was. He must have thought I cared, but my eyes were already on the man across the room. He was tall. He was rugged. And, as I would find out, dangerous.