Page 89 of Wild Like Us
Moss covers the bumpy, jagged rock face. Three-hundred feet high, the foliage is concerning. If it’s too wet, I might need to either find a better route or scrape it off.
Since this is a practice run with safety gear, I texted Jane, Moffy, and Charlie before I lost cell service. I told them to just meet-up tomorrow. For one, I need to climb without the added pressure of my cousins watching.
For another, there would bezeropressure if I weren’t keeping a humongous fucking secret.Akara and Banks are casually dating me, Bachelorette-style.
When I see my family, I’m afraid it’ll be written all over my face. I sincerely wish I were a better liar. And right now, I’d rather be thinking about this beautiful, challenging behemoth than worrying about unearthing that news.
I recheck my harness and rope.
“Knock ‘em dead,” Banks encourages, coming up to my side. “Or whatever climbers say.”
I smile up at him. Something flutters inside my body the longer he stares back down at me. And I know, for fucking sure, that he’s not looking at me like a buddy.
My face hurts from grinning. “I usually tell my sister toscale that bitch.”
His mouth curves. “You better scale that bitch, mermaid.”
“I’ll try my fucking hardest.”
His gaze descends my body in the hottest wave. I’m just in knee-length cargo shorts my sister bought me last year and a Camp Calloway tee, but Banks makes me feel like I’m in full glam on the red carpet. For a while there, I was scared I’d need to wear lipstick and a dress for a guy to look at me like how he’s looking at me. My fear: real life actually imitates teen movies where the girl has to have a blow-out, makeup, and high heels to finally be noticed and desired.
To be me and still be longed after is one of the best experiences, one I never really knew I needed this badly.
He glances at my chalk bag. “That hooked on right?”
“Yeah.” Does my voice sound raspy? “I’m all secure.” I recheck again, just to be safe.
He curls his hair behind his right ear, then left, and he leans in. My heart races as he places a tender kiss on my lips. I smile against his mouth, and while I lean in more, his hand dips to the small of my back. When we break, I feelnervous.
Because Akara is also here.
How the fuck does the Bachelorette date like fifteen guys at once?
As Banks reluctantly steps back, he tells me, “Stay frosty.”
I’ve heard him say that phrase to other bodyguards before. “What does that mean?Stay frosty?”
“Stay cool.” His shadow of a smile reappears. “Stay on your toes.”
I like that.“You stay really fucking frosty.”
“Not frostier than you.”
Akara approaches me like he’s chugging a gallon of antifreeze. He gives me a look likeput me out of my misery, Sul.
I return that with a glare. “I’m allowed to flirt, Kits.”
“I’m just trying to switch the TV channel off the Hallmark Movie.”
I check my harness again. “What are you putting on instead?Stranger Things?” It’s his favorite TV show. If it’s trending and popular, Kits has seen it. If it’s obscure, he’s never given it any time. My mom has a theory that Akara tunes into popular things because there’s less risk of disappointment. He’s too busy to be let down by the few things he has time for.
“Stranger Thingswould be up there.” He smiles, stopping an inch away. “So wouldBreaking Bad,The Walking Dead—”
“You’d rather watch flesh-eating zombies attack me than me and Banks—”
“We wouldn’t let a zombie attack you,” Akara cuts in fast, then he emphasizes, “Iwouldn’t.”
I smile. “Oh no, it’s already too fucking late, you included him.”
