Page 47 of Entwined Hearts

“Look, it’s not, okay? I just…” It’s my turn to sigh, but it doesn’t help. I feel like I’m on the edge of a cliff, and his hand is only an inch away. All he has to do is stretch a bit more, and he can save me from tipping over the edge. “I could use a project.”

I nibble on the edge of my thumbnail, waiting for his reply.

“There’s been some rockfall.”

I roll my eyes. There’s always rockfall. “We’ll be careful.” Just because this route has more than its share shouldn’t stop us. As long as we stay aware, what’s the big deal?

“Well, heck, then…yeah,” he says, finally sounding excited.

Relief floods through me. “Cool.”

“So, you were climbing in the Buttermilks…with Colby?”

My heart stutters painfully. “Yeah, Kabir invited him,” I lie.

“Huh.”

I grip the phone, willing him to leave it alone because if he comes out and asks me anything else, the tremor in my voice will give me away.

“So, when are you coming to the Valley?”

My schedule floats into my mind. “A few weeks,” I say, imagining the packing and the moving of my stuff into the storage facility that I’ll be doing alone, the bouldering event I’m attending for one of my sponsors in upstate New York. “Maybe sooner,” I add.

“Okay, well, stop by when you get in,” he says.

The pull of his company draws me like a magnet. I picture us standing around a campfire with the usual suspects that always ebb and flow at Camp 4 each season. And then I’m imagining Jake’s hand in mine and the way his dark, mischievous eyes used to flash like a secret message.I love you, they used to say.

I spend the next few days pushing myself hard at the climbing gym, then fly to New York for the event. When I return, I dive right into packing. I ignore my phone until the Friday of my last weekend when I realize I haven’t talked to Marisa, Jo, or Kabir.

“Girl, where have you been?” Jo asks when I call her. “We’re coming to kidnap you.”

I flinch, then force the instinct back.It’s just a word. “Oh? Where to?”

“Karaoke,” she replies.

Karaoke must remind me of the commercials I did as a baby, because I always feel anxious in those places—but I’m a good audience and seeing my friends make fools of themselves sounds like a good time.

I shower and get ready, donning a lace tank top with spaghetti straps and a pair of jeans even though it’s too hot for denim because my knees are beaten up from a fall earlier this week. Three of my fingertips won’t stop bleeding. I haven’t given them a break since the Buttermilks. Coupled with the way I’ve been training since then, they’re hopelessly shredded. When I remember the tea-bag trick Colby taught me, I feel my shoulders tighten. Why did he bother if he just planned to walk away?

My bloody fingers grip the edge of the sink, and I have to squeeze my eyes shut to keep from curling into myself. The memories of us kissing on the dark road with the stars burning above returns. His lips tasted of lime, and he smelled like sage and warm cotton. The anticipation while he kissed down my abdomen until he gently parted my folds with his tongue flares in my belly. A lightning-fast tremor shakes my frame, and I grip the sink harder. Streaks of blood from my fingers line the bowl as the memory continues. When Colby slid inside me, I experienced a moment of pure bliss. The most perfect sense of connection.

I lean over the sink as a sob rattles up from my core. And then I’m fighting it, tugging on the edge of the sink as if yanking it from the wall will solve my problem. With a howl, I reel back. After diving into the towel to wipe my face, I grit my teeth and grab the first aid kit.

After taping up my fingers—no tea bag, thanks—I grab my shoulder bag just as the honk from Kabir’s Subaru sounds in my driveaway.

But there’s a surprise pulling up behind him.

Colby.

Okay, what the hell’s going on? I look between Marisa and Jo, seeing the conflict on their faces, and then I understand. Kabir invited him. Jo is conflicted about it, and Marisa didn’t know.

Kabir and Colby bump fists, while Jo and Marisa stand to the side, looking from me to the guys.

As soon as Colby steps back from Kabir, his eyes lock onto mine.

My friends part like the Red Sea. Suddenly, it’s like I’m walking in a canyon made of water, knowing any second the spell will break. When it does, the water will come crashing down to smother me.

“What are you doing here?” My voice sounds high and foreign. Thinking about my recent breakdown in the bathroom, I wonder if my eyes are still red.

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