Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 82945 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82945 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
I watch his face as a strange sense of calm comes over me. I can almost see a little Gareth sitting in a dark room in front of the glow of a computer monitor, chatting away, playing games, exploring the web. I don’t really know what the internet was like back then, but I picture a curious kid finding himself.
It’s almost sweet, actually. I wonder how he went from playing with computers to lawyer for gangsters.
“I wanted to breed dogs.” It comes out in a sudden rush. He looks at me, a little smile on his face like he’s about to make a joke, so I keep talking. “We didn’t have any pets. My mom was allergic to cats and didn’t like dogs, so we never got one, but I was obsessed with them. I used to have these elaborate daydreams where I’d imagine a whole pack of black Labradors, all of them running around through a forest, and I’d call out all their names one by one, petting their heads as they run past.”
“I didn’t take you for an animal lover.”
“Well, I grew up. At least I wasn’t a computer nerd.”
He laughs at that, finishes his coffee, and tosses the empty into a trash can. “You do realize most computer nerds grew up into rich programmers, right? It’s cool to be into computers now.”
“Don’t try to hide your nerdery from me, Gareth.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it.” His smile fades as he stretches his neck. “All right, let’s head back.”
“Hold up, we’re running home?”
“Of course, how did you think we were getting there?”
“I don’t know… walking? At a leisurely pace? Maybe taking a cab.”
“Toss the cup, Mrs. Kane. We’re going.”
I groan, throw it away, and adjust my hair. There’s no way I’m going to let him know that I’m already sore and exhaust. “Fine, let’s do this, you big dork.”
He laughs as he sets out at a pace I definitely can’t match for long.
But I try anyway.
Chapter 15
Fiona
I clap my hands together. Chalk bursts into the air, a dusty white cloud. I stand at the base of the bouldering wall, the myriad of different size and color hand- and foot-holds skittering up toward the top like a broken-apart puzzle. I bounce on a protective floor mat, thick and soft enough to brace a fall from the top. Bouldering walls don’t use harnesses, but they also don’t go as high.
I have new climbing gear, new shoes, new clothes, even a new headband.
But the gym is home. The gym is my life. I take a deep breath, smelling sweat, wood, plastic, chalk. And I smile.
God, it feels so good to be back.
“Hell fucking no,” Gareth says from the strip of flat ground at the edge of the mat. “Nope. Absolutely not.”
I look back at him, hands on my hips. “You woke my ass up at the crack of dawn for a run. You’re climbing the damn wall.”
“I’ve never done this before,” he says, eyeing the top. “Where’s the safety equipment? Aren’t there ropes?”
“We’re at the beginner bouldering course. If you fall, you land on the mat.” I bounce up and down, showing him how springy it is. “You’ll be fine.”
He sighs and rubs his face. “If I break something, it’s going to be very hard to do my job. You realize that? I need my hands. Also my legs.”
“Don’t be a coward.”
That gets his attention. “I’m not afraid. I’m practical.”
“You’re trembling.”
“Fiona.” His tone sharpens. “Don’t test me.”
“I want to test you, big guy. Come on, climb.”
“You first.” He crosses his arms over his chest. “Since I’ve never done this before, show me.”
“You’re just trying to get a look at my ass,” I say but I’m already planning my route in my head.
“Damn right I am. So put on a show.”
I crack my neck, grinning, before turning my back on him. “All right, watch and learn.”
I’m rusty. It’s been a few weeks since I got a good climbing session in.
But as soon as I walk to the wall, get my hands and feet set, it all comes flooding back.
The rush of the climb. The struggle as my fingers find purchase, gripping tightly. The intense rush of getting higher and higher, the difficulty increasing every inch, the risk skyrocketing. That’s what I love the most about climbing: it challenges me to work harder and harder, to refuse to give up even when my body’s begging for me to release and drop down. When I’m climbing, my mind goes blank, all my struggles disappear, and I can drift deep into my body. There’s something pure about climbing, something animalistic, something graceful. I’m a better person when I’m climbing. I’m a stronger person.
I shift my feet, going from perch to perch, moving slowly up and up. I take my time, letting Gareth get a good view of my form. Also my ass and my back muscles. I know he’s probably mentally feeling me up right now, which only brings a smile to my face.