Dangerous

“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.