Page 33 of Counting the Days

“When you read the description, you thought ‘throwing off society’s emotional shackles’ maybe wouldn’t be awkward?”

“What are you doing here? Are you actually searching for a soulmate? Or just trying to pick up desperate women?”

“Like, three weeks ago, you told me you weren’t looking for anything serious, and now you’re apparently…seeking a soulmate? So…can I ask you the same question?” He said this softly, but it nailed Rhea to the wall.

She did not respond.

“You could’ve just told me you didn’t like camping. I’m a big kid, I can handle it.”

“No, it wasn’t that at all. I did like camping. I liked campinga lot. I think about it…far too much actually.”

They looked into each other’s eyes; both were aware they were not talking about camping.

“You should eat lunch before you go,” he said, then added, “if you want,” cursing himself for trying to take care of her. “Or just don’t…leave.”

“But then I’d have to walk my suitcase all the way back to my room,” she said, mock pouting.

“You can put it in my room. It’s close….”

He pointed to a nearby building with redwood siding. Rhea swallowed. The only thing she wanted to do was put her suitcase in Danny’s room, then spend the rest of the weekend locked in there with Danny. Nothing else in the world mattered to her. Inher mind, her vision board began shrinking until it was a tiny, undiscernible dot.

“Okay,” she said.

Danny led the way. “And to answer your question, no, I’m not here to pick up ‘desperate women.’ I’ve done a lotta retreats here, and a few months ago I saw a flyer for this and it just…sorta spoke to me.” He cleared his throat and deepened his voice. “But whatever, I know it’s weird for guys to be into this stuff.”

Rhea stopped walking and looked at him. “I think it’s the opposite of weird. I think it’s brave and…actually very attractive.”

Danny exhaled. As they walked, Rhea could feel Danny waiting to hearherreason for being there, but all he got was the rolling crunch of suitcase wheels on gravel. He opened the door to his room, and Rhea stepped inside. She took in his bed, and one hundred different things she wanted to do to Danny on that bed flashed through her head in rapid succession.

“Great room. You got a view of the redwoods.”

“Free upgrade.”

“I got one too! Is this place seriouslythisamazing…or is it a cult?”

Danny laughed. “It’s definitely not a cult.”

“That’s what someone in a cult would say.”

“Wow, you’re right…. Huh, there’s really nothing I can say that won’t make it sound more culty.”

“Nope, that’s the cult conundrum.”

He laughed again. Every time she made Danny laugh, she felt the heavens open up and the sun shine down on her. He had an adorably masculine laugh—an oxymoron, but it was the only way she could describe it to herself. Also, his eyes crinkled even more when he was laughing, which made Rhea want to headbutt him.

Rhea suffered from a phenomenon known as cute aggression. Whenever she was in the presence of something adorable, it overwhelmed the joy centers in her brain, and she felt an instinct to bite it, smash it, squish it—anything to release the intense happiness she was experiencing. Babies’ feet and hands were often bitten with lip-covered teeth. Puppies were threatened with “I love you so much, I want to deep-fry your legs and eat them.”

Danny’s overall darling face and body made Rhea want to throw him against the wall and rip his face off. This, or any other form of attack, would have most likely proven impossible given their size difference; her eyes barely reached the top of his shoulders. She had to lift her chin to meet his inquisitive stare. For a moment, they did not speak.

“That eye-gazing stuff was wild, huh?” Danny said.

“Completely. I felt like my brain was melting.”

“Yeah, your whole outline was, like, dissolving. I was afraid you were gonna disappear….”

They each took silent notice of the double meaning of his words.

“Lunch?”