Total pages in book: 30
Estimated words: 27760 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 139(@200wpm)___ 111(@250wpm)___ 93(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 27760 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 139(@200wpm)___ 111(@250wpm)___ 93(@300wpm)
That thought fuels me, driving me up the last stretch of rock. I haul myself over the final edge, my chest heaving, muscles screaming, but for the first time in months, the pain feels... right. Like I’m finally earning something again. I stand at the top, looking out over the valley, the river a silver thread far below. My legs tremble, my knee a sharp reminder of everything I’ve fought through, but I feel lighter, like I’ve shed something I didn’t realize I was carrying.
The wind whips across the peak, chilling the sweat on my skin, but I barely feel it. I let out a breathless, bitter laugh, running a hand through my hair. Damn, it’s not just the climb. It’s everything.
I think of Lila, her words still ringing in my head, cutting through the bravado I’ve wrapped around myself for years. She’s right, of course. She sees through me in a way that no one else does, straight to the parts I’ve tried to bury. But as much as her honesty cuts, it’s the only thing that makes me want to be honest too.
I glance back down the way I came, the route that nearly broke me once, and a different kind of determination surges through me. The fear is still there—of falling, of failing, of wanting something I don’t know how to keep. But now, there’s something else too—a realization that maybe, for once, I don’t have to do this alone.
I lower myself to sit on the edge, my legs dangling over the drop, and for the first time, I let myself imagine what it might feel like to reach for more than just the next hold. To reach for something real. Something that doesn’t fit neatly into my world of risks and adrenaline.
“Dammit, Lila,” I murmur into the wind, my voice barely carrying over the rush of air. “You might be the one thing I can’t out-climb.”
I scrub a hand over my face, the rough stubble scratching against my palm. The realization feels like a weight lifting off my chest, even as it leaves me raw, exposed to the mountain air. I thought climbing this route again would be about conquering my own demons, about proving I’m still the same guy I was before the fall. But now, I know it’s about more than that. It’s about admitting that I don’t have to keep pretending I don’t need anyone.
I push to my feet, staring down at the valley below, the sun casting long shadows across the pines. My jaw clenches, but there’s a small, stubborn smile tugging at the corner of my mouth. Because this time, I’m not just climbing back to who I used to be—I’m climbing toward something better.
And if that means taking a risk on Lila, on letting her into a place I’ve kept locked up tight, then maybe—just maybe—I’m ready to do it.
Chapter Nine
Lila
I can’t stop thinking about him.
He’s driving me crazy, his words playing on repeat in my mind. I can’t shake this man, and maybe that’s because I’m not supposed to. He’s proven that he has the ability to move something inside of me, and even if I can’t explain why that is, maybe I still need to listen to my intuition. An afternoon hike with my camera felt like the best way to shake this feeling that’s been with me since I left him this morning.
The mountain air feels different—thinner, sharper, like each breath is tinged with the edge of the mountain’s heartbeat. The sun hangs low, bathing the cliff in a golden glow that spills across the rocks and turns the shadows long and deep. I squint against the light, trying to ignore the way my pulse races as I scan the rock face above me. I snap a few photos of a peregrine falcon perched on a nest when I zoom in, and something out of place catches my eye.
Holt is halfway up, his body a dark silhouette against the fading sky, moving with a kind of raw, relentless purpose. There’s a desperation in the way he climbs, every muscle in his back straining, each reach more determined than the last. It’s like he’s chasing something—something I don’t understand but can feel in the air between us. My throat tightens, the knot of fear and frustration coiling tighter with each step he takes upward.
“Damn it, Holt,” I mutter under my breath, but my words get swallowed up by the mountain wind. He’s too high up, and every instinct in me screams to call him down, to make him see reason. But part of me knows he won’t listen. Not now, not when he’s like this.
The sharp edge of my voice cuts through the air, bouncing off the rock. “Holt! What the hell are you doing?”
His head snaps down, his jaw tight and hard, his eyes locking with mine from across the distance. For a moment, I think I see something flicker there—something raw and unguarded—but then his expression shutters, and he keeps moving, his body flowing over the rock with a stubborn grace. He doesn’t even pause. “What does it look like I’m doing, Lila?” His voice is rough, the wind carrying it to me in ragged snatches. He glances up toward the peak, determination blazing in his eyes. “I’ve got to finish this.”