“Zachariah.”
Again with the silent stalemate.
Until finally, “Fine. But you take it one clip at a time. Focus. Don’t get too caught up in the—”
“Potential for dying?” Look at her trying to make a funny.
“Goddammit, Tabitha. Don’t you dare say shit like that,” Zac said with abrupt fury.
Ok, so not funny.
“Sorry. Bad joke. I’ll make it up to you when I get down there. But I know what I’m doing. All right?” Climbing had always been about visualization for Tabitha. If she could imagine she was downclimbing at the gym, maybe she could focus enough to keep cool. Steady.
“Fine.” His anger had already cooled as he accepted. “We’ll do your plan.”
“Perfect.”
She chalked her clammy hands and returned them to the granite. It was still warm as the sun was high in the sky, about to tip over and make its lazy descent in the west.
Here goes nothing.
“Climbing.”
“Climb on.”
Tabitha retraced her moves up to the last bolt she’d clipped into before falling. Muscle memory took over, and she found herself face-to-face with her target in no time. She called down that she was unclipping so he’d give a little slack rather than pulling her off the wall. As she placed the retrieved gear on her harness, she imagined Zac scolding her for not just leaving it behind. But her instinct had taken over and she snagged it out of habit.
Next came the trickier part.
The downclimbing.
She shifted slowly, only making a move when she identified the best holds to assist her descent. The route was twice as hard in reverse, and her muscles wailed in protest. But she maintained a slow, steady pace. Zac took up slack with each of her movements, never once taking too much. He knew what he was doing. Knew how to keep her safe.
Throughout her progress, he tossed out encouraging words.
“Keep it up, tabby cat.”
“Great work.”
“You’ve got this.”
“I’ve got you.”
Soon, she was at the next bolt. She dangled freely for a moment to shake out her arms and hands and wipe the sweat from her brow. She ached for a drink of water. All the more reason to get back to the ledge.
The next couple of sections were manageable, and she worked her way lower and lower.
Until finally, she reached a bolt far enough down the face that Zac could lower her to the ledge. The second her toes touched the ground he slammed into her. Those big arms crushed around her, one at her waist, the other at the back of her neck. Her helmet smacked the side of his jaw, right below his ear. The apology she muttered was quickly dismissed.
“You scared the shit out of me, you know that?” he said with anguish, pulling himself back so he could look at her face. His deep brown eyes were glassy with emotion, likely all the worst-case scenarios had flipped through his mind as he thought of the ways he could have lost her.
Tabitha settled her fingers on his cheek, allowing the texture of his beard in her palm to ground her. The scent of sunshine and sweat and citrus reminded her that she was alive. He was alive.
She pushed to her tiptoes and placed a gentle kiss on his lips. Whether it was merely a thank you for helping her get safely to the ledge or an offer of something more, Tabitha didn’t know. Both maybe.
All she knew was that it felt like a dagger to the chest when he didn’t return the gesture. And as she pulled away, he shook his head.
“I can’t—we . . .”
