He recognized the look from his childhood. It usually preceded one of his older sisters pounding him for doing something stupid.
“Listen, I appreciate the chivalry,” she said, sounding like she didn’t. “But it’s not necessary. Trust me. It’s safer for both of us this way.”
Not waiting for him to agree, she hobbled over to one of the trees that grew near the rock face and wrapped the rope around it.
“Clip in,” she said, tossing one end of the line to him and keeping the other for herself.
He had a choice to make. He could ignore her and try to come up with his own plan or he could do what she said. He remembered the way she’d tried to talk him out of the climb in the first place and bit back a groan. He didn’t like it, but he honestly couldn’t make the case that he knew more than she did. It was stupid to hire a guide and then refuse to listen to them.
“You’re sure?” he asked, making one last attempt.
“Positive.” Bracing herself against the rock, she gripped the rope and motioned toward the edge. “Just sit back and use your feet to walk to the bottom.”
“I’ve rappelled before.” He sounded defensive and wasn’t surprised when she rolled her eyes.
“I’m sure you have,” she said with infinite patience. “Go ahead and do it again.”
Feeling ridiculous, he gripped the rope running through the carabiner clipped to his harness and backed up to the ledge. The first step was always the hardest, kind of a leap of faith, but he felt the rope hold him fast and concentrated on getting down so she could follow. Her hazel eyes met and held his gaze as he disappeared over the edge. In a few moments, he was safely on the ground. She followed in half the time it had taken him, working the double rope like a pro. The hiking boot and the fact that she only touched the rock with one foot were the only clues that she was injured. She landed softly beside him, balancing her weight on her right leg.
“Told you,” she said, pulling the rope and winding it neatly before tucking it into the pack. “Let’s get to the car and then I’ll call about getting you a refund.”
“Shouldn’t we get your ankle looked at?” He couldn’t help but feel like he ought to do more. She was hurt. He needed to fix it.
“I don’t think so. It’s just a sprain. It doesn’t hurt much, but it’s not safe to climb with it like this.” She must have seen the concern on his face. “If it’s not better tomorrow, I’ll have it looked at,” she said, clearly intending to appease him.
“I don’t want a refund.” He blurted the words out before he had a chance to consider them.
“Why not?” She looked as shocked as he felt.
“I still need to learn how to climb this. I want to reschedule another day.”
“No problem. I can recommend a couple of good guides.”
“I want you,” he said, not sure what made him say the words but more sure than ever they were true. He wanted to see her again.
“It’ll probably be a week or so before I can climb again,” she said, the confusion clear in her expression.
“I’ll wait.”
––––––––
AMANDA SOUTHERLAND GLANCED at her phone and grimaced. She’d left extra time to get to the gym, but between traffic and her still stiff ankle, it looked like she was still going to be late, which meant the inevitable lecture from Ethan on punctuality. He was right. She was a grown woman; she should be able to make it to an appointment on time and she would have if Mrs. Edison, their next-door neighbor, hadn’t caught her as she was headed to the car. The older woman lived by herself and some days Amanda and her sister Becca were the older woman’s only company. She couldn’t bring herself to cut her off when she wanted to visit.
It was just a few minutes. Maybe she wouldn’t be the last to arrive.She crossed the street to Lift. The gym had only been open for a few months and she’d been curious about it. She still went to the Y when she wanted to lift. The convenience balanced its age and lack of new equipment, and the regulars knew her by name.
Opening the door, she breathed in the clean citrus scent and surprising lack of sweat and disinfectant.Maybe there were advantages to using a newer gym beyond up-to-date equipment.She could see why Ethan picked the place. Rows of ellipticals lined one wall, each with its own flat-screen TV hanging in front of it. Treadmills and another row of televisions filled the other wall and a variety of weight machines, some she barely recognized, were placed at even intervals across the floor. A young woman in a crisp white polo printed with the gym’s logo waited behind the counter to greet her.
“Welcome to Lift,” said the woman with a smile almost as white as her shirt. With her can-do expression and the super healthy glow of her skin, she could have stepped out of an ad for one of those glossy fitness magazines.
The gym was perfect. Everything looked exactly like it should. Amanda usually hated places like that—the ones with no soul, where how it looked carried more weight than how it worked. But this was different. Despite the bright lights and equipment that looked like it had barely been used, the place managed to still feel warm. Welcoming almost.
“You’re late.” Ethan hurried across the gym to meet her, pausing long enough to brush a perfunctory kiss across her lips.
“I know. I’m sorry. I—”
“Never mind. You’re here now,” he said, cutting her off before she could explain.
He took her by the hand and started across the gym, moving so fast she had to struggle to keep up on her still tender ankle. They approached a small group of people gathered around a weight machine. She recognized Ethan’s boss. The woman wearing perfectly coordinated workout gear and clinging to his arm must be his new wife. Second or third, Amanda couldn’t remember. A man and a woman—definitely not together—she thought she recognized from the company Christmas party stood on opposite sides of the group. If body language were any indication, the two of them couldn’t stand each other.
