Page 57 of Entwined Hearts

Colby’s face tightens. “And you want to put your life in his hands on a climb nobody’s touched in ten years?”

“He’ll take good care of me.” The minute I say this, I realize it’s the exact wrong thing, even though it’s true. When we’re climbing together, everything is in sync.

Colby lays on his back and groans. “Fuck, Anya…” He tugs at his hair. “It’s just…Widow’s Walk…it’s so risky.” He turns to face me. “Pick another climb, any climb, and I’ll do it with you.”

“You’re not jealous, are you?” I ask.

His face contorts in a fierce expression I can’t place. “Look, I know you want to stay friends, but…you don’t need him.”

This hits me square in the gut. I shake my head to disagree. “He was there for me then.” The panicky dread that comes on when I go back to those moments rises to my neck, threatening to choke me. “Those two nights when I thought they were going to kill us, Colby, he helped me be strong.”

He winces. “Jeez, what an awful thing to have to experience,” he says, his voice full of kindness. He pauses, caressing my arm. “But…where is he now?”

I grimace. Deep down, I know he’s right.

“He even has the nerve to break things off…I mean, it’s obvious he doesn’t know how to care for you.”

“And you do?” I ask.

I can tell the question takes him by surprise because his face freezes. After a moment, his deep blue eyes soften. He strokes my cheek.

“Will you let me try?” he asks.

“You are already taking care of so many people.”

“Maybe I’m good at it,” he replies, raising a cocky eyebrow.

“I don’t want to be someone’s project.”

Instantly, his expression hardens. “Paige and Maddy aren’t projects. They’re my family.”

“Okay,” I say to diffuse the strain. “But they need you, too.”

“Don’t ask me to choose,” he says sternly.

Anger flares in my chest, igniting my cheeks. “Then don’t ask me to.”

He pulls me into his arms, easing the tension in my shoulders.

“I’m just worried, okay?” he says. “When will you go up?”

I don’t tell him about the back-and-forth texts I’ve been exchanging with Jake about the gear we’ll need and details about certain pitches. “Probably a week. We’ll do recon, then wait for a weather window.”

“Do you want me there?” he asks.

A flutter tickles my insides. I get ahell yes/please nopush-pull from my brain. On the one hand, yes, I absolutely want Colby there. On the other, his presence means I’ll have to worry about them fighting. “Can you?” I ask, wondering if I can ask him this because…what are we?

I feel him sigh and wonder if he’d been holding his breath. “Yes,” he says. “I’ll be there.”

* * *

Iwake to the smell of coffee and the coolness of an empty bed. Fading bits of my dream melt away for good—I’m pretty sure I was running again, so the relief the night is over slowly softens the edges of my mind.

A sudden design idea floats to the surface. Maybe inspired by the idea of running? I slide open the drawer in my bedside table, then pull out my sketchbook and pencil. I flip onto my stomach and begin to outline the edges of a jacket, picturing it in soft pink, with articulated shoulders that flow with a climbers’ movements instead of binding.

Colby pads into the bedroom. Snapping my notebook shut, I turn to see him carrying two cups of steaming coffee in nothing but his briefs. I drink him in as he approaches. His finger-combed hair has that sexy bedhead look. His broad shoulders and muscular chest make my heart thump. He sits on the edge of the bed, and I scoot up to take the coffee from him.

“How come you’re always up so early?” I ask, gripping the mug in my hands.

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