Page 3 of Climb Me Maybe
CHAPTER2
BRADY
Istare at my phone, my stomach knotting up each time I read the text Teagan sent me yesterday:
Imogen Navarro, LMT.Really nice, specializes in athletes.Just a consultation.And if you don’t get your keister over there, Connor plans to drag you over himself.Her number: 406-555-0187.
I huff.
The rational part of my brain knows I need help.My back's been spasming since yesterday’s demo where I did an extra long drop with the rig, showing off, trying to prove I could still climb like I was twenty-five instead of forty-three.
My muscles pulse in disapproval.Sharp.Insistent.“Old man,”it mocks.
The irrational part of me keeps flashing back to that much-too-young woman I bumped into with sexy pink hair and whiskey-brown eyes—some random visitor passing through who keeps popping into my fantasies.
Damn, she was beautiful.
My phone feels like a brick in my hand.
Teagan's been trying to get me to see a massage therapist for weeks, and suddenly there’s one on site?Coincidence?Doubtful.More like suspicious.
A stranger’s hands on my body.
I shudder, thumb hovering over the text box.Twenty-five years of logging, climbing, hauling timber, and the idea of lying still while someone pokes and rubs at my muscles makes my shoulders creep toward my ears.
Traditional Japanese stoicism runs deep—my grandfather’s voice echoes in my head:
Endure.Adapt.Do not show weakness.
But Teagan’s right.The crew needs me functional.
This is Brady.Teagan said you might have time for a consultation about my back.
I hit send before I lose my nerve.
Imogen’s response is almost immediate.
Absolutely!I'm free this afternoon if you'd like to stop by Cabin 7.We can just talk - and only hands-on diagnostics if you're comfortable.
The word “hands-on” makes me pause.But “diagnostic” is a clinical word.A safe word…and it brings me back to reality.
I have to get over this.
2 PM work?
Pride will not intervene.
It does.See you then, Brady.
I shove the phone in my pocket and try to focus on this tree health assessment I'm supposed to be doing.Instead, I’m worried about someone who’s supposed to make me feel better.
Zen, Tanaka.
But when 2 PM rolls around, I'm standing outside Cabin 7 wondering if I’ve made a mistake in agreeing to this.
I knock twice.
"Come in!"her voice calls from inside.
