Exit Wounds | Noah Sebastian

T W E N T Y T W O

I didn't do anything the rest of the day other than lay in bed and order room service, but by the next morning I'm feeling much better. I'm not hungover and I have finally adjusted to the time difference. I had a hike planned for this morning, and I had been hiding out long enough.

I make my way down to the lounge for breakfast, the sunlight streams in the large windows, warming my skin while I eat alone. As soon as I finish my coffee, I pay my bill and head to the lobby to order a ride.

I hear my name from behind me and I turn to see a familiar face. I feel a grin split my face at the sight of him, "are you stalking me?"

He chuckles, his voice incredibly deep as he looks down sheepishly, "Sage mentioned this was your hotel."

"So you are stalking me," I grin at him, "asking her for my number probably would have been easier."

His cheeks turn the faintest shade of pink, "are you doing anything today?"

"I'm about to head out on a hike, do you want to join me?"

"I'll drive, where are we going?"

"Malibu," I tell him as we walk side by side out to his car.

Something industrial is playing lowly in his car and he rolls the windows down, but then remembers I'm in the car with him, "is this okay?"

"Yes, I love feeling the wind on my face," I tell him, but with all the traffic I've seen so far I don't think I'll be feeling any wind.

The drive is long, Nick and I talk a little, about his band and about my blog. Nick only briefly mentions Noah, and I'm thankful I don't have to go into detail just how much I cared for him. I might have even loved him, but it wasn't our time then and it isn't our time now.

And who cares anyway, because I'm here with Nick and he's beautiful and is actually listening to what I'm saying and asking questions and seems to genuinely want to get to know me.

I glance at Nick's outfit when we pull into the parking lot for the four and a half mile hike, the weather is nice for what I'm used to. It's around 65 and partly cloudy, Nick is in skinny jeans, but at least he's wearing sneakers. The weather is nice enough that neither of us should get super sweaty.

We don't make it two steps onto the trail before someone stops him for a picture. I knew the band had gotten popular from when I was stalking Noah, but I guess I didn't realize they were this popular. The girls eye me suspiciously, but not hatefully and I try to grin at them. However, I don't know what to do.

"Sorry about that," Nick says when they have walked away.

"Does that happen a lot?"

Nick slides sunglasses over his eyes and pulls up the hood on his sweatshirt, "Sometimes, but not that much. I think Noah gets the worst of it."

I feel sick at the mention of his name, I remember seeing him for the first time in five years with his fingers woven between another woman's fingers. Of course he was the most popular, because he has that thing, that stupid charisma that makes you drawn to him.

"What is your favorite thing about LA?" I ask, changing the subject, because I didn't want to talk about the band or Noah.

"This," he says, indicating the mountains jutting up around us as we walk under a deceiving canopy.

We aren't far into the hike, the road is still wide and easy, but I know it's going to get harder.

"I could definitely get used to this," I tell him as we continue down the path.