I eye her outfit—long, flowing summer dress, not exactly made for hiking and especially not climbing. “In that?”
She grins. “That’s why I need you. And your company, of course.”
“Of course…” I mutter, chuckling under my breath as I let her lead me toward the massive slab of ancient sandstone.
She walks the edge, palms brushing over it like she’s listening to the stone speak. “This’ll be perfect,” she says, eyes lighting up. “Okay… I’m thinking you go first.”
I stare up at the rock.
It’s easily three or four times my height. Jagged, uneven, with no ropes, no gear, no lights. Just…vibes.
I glance at her. “I’m not sure this is the best idea.”
“Why?” she says with a mischievous gleam in her eye, jabbing me in the ribs. “You chicken?”
I exhale a sharp breath, fighting the grin twitching at my mouth.
“Fuck.”
Chapter Twelve
EFFA
The rock formations behind the amphitheater are huge. It’s not called Stage Rock for nothing. I knew it would be the perfect place to carry out my plan, but I had to get Mercs on board first.
Didn’t expect him to be such a pussy about it.
I giggle to myself as I catch his horrified expression. He’s staring up at the formation as if it might bite him. “Oh, c’mon… it can’t be that hard, can it?”
Mercs shoots me a dry look and raises his brow. “Effa, you’re pretty important. I don’t want you hurt by falling—”
“Then I’ll go first, and you can catch me if I slip,” I reply breezily, brushing past him and gathering my dress up around my hips. I’ve got ballet flats on, and a little rock climbing never scared me. Especially not with the stars glowing overhead and the air this electric, knowing that looking up at the sky from this height will be incredible.
“Effa,” he warns, his voice low and gruff. But I ignore it, reaching for the first handhold and slotting my foot into a gap between two stones.
“Shit,” he mutters behind me.
“You’re so tense, Mercs. Live a little,” I tease, flashing him a grin over my shoulder as I hoist myself up onto the first ledge. The rock is cold and gritty beneath my fingers, but I love the texture. It grounds me.
As I start my ascent, a calm washes over me. The roughness of the stone, the warmth radiating from it, the hum of residual energy from the concert, it all calls to me. This place has a vibration, and I feel it thrumming in my palms. The rocks here are ancient, holding stories in their texture. I can feel them, likethey’re vibrating hello in a language I almost understand. And under the stars, with the Colorado air crisp in my lungs and Mercs’ steady presence at my back, I feel more connected than I have in weeks.
This is why I brought Mercs here. Not just for fun, not just to climb, it’s the energy. I wanted to share this feeling with him. The way the world quiets up high, the way you can hear your soul if you only listen.
He doesn’t get it yet, but he will.
Mercs’ hands hover close around my hips like he’s ready to catch me, and for a second, I want to fall so I feel those strong arms around me again. But I’m not ready to be rescued. Not tonight.
I slip my foot into another groove and pull myself higher. The climb isn’t easy, but it suits my frame. I move light and fast, my muscles working, my breath syncing with the rhythm of the earth.
When I’m close to the top, I pause and glance down.
Mercs is below, eyes locked on me, hands raised. He’s ready… just in case. That thought alone sends a soft warmth through my chest.
“See? Not so hard, right?” I call out with a wink. With one final push, I grunt and hoist myself over the ledge with a not-so-feminine “oomph.”
Mercs chuckles from below, shaking his head. “Would it be bad to say that kinda turned me on?” he calls up.
I burst out laughing. “No. You were totally staring at my ass, so that’s a compliment. Now get your butt up here, chicken boy.”
