I spring into action, intending to fulfill today’s horoscope even if it means smashing up my hip all over again. I ignore the twinge and propel myself up the wall with my legs.
My thighs burn as I reach higher, gripping on to the handholds and hauling myself up.
Looking across, I’m dismayed to see that Grace is taking a steadier pace, slowly gaining inches on me. But I wasn’t wrong before. This side-on view is heavenly perfection made flesh, her T-shirt lifting slightly to show an enticing sliver of pale skin.
I shake my head.
Focus.
Suddenly, I’m aware of how tight the harness really is. It’s crushing my balls, stone-solid with repressed lust.
I imagine I’m on the football pitch and it’s overtime, and if we don’t score now, we’re fucked. I imagine my whole career rests on this moment and my chest fills with the embers of my old fiery ambition.
I need to win this.
Because then I’ll have Grace right where I want her.
Gritting my teeth, I shift my attention so that, for me, nothing exists but the wall. I spring up it.
Below me, people gasp at the sudden surge of energy. Their voices get quieter and the sun gets brighter as I spring up, finally putting some decent distance between me and Grace and heading for the top.
“Woah, bad boy!” Grace calls out, giggling. “You’re making me look bad!”
I grin savagely down at her. “I think you look pretty damn fine from up here.”
I turn away and climb the rest of the way, hauling myself up to the top and gripping the upper railing. I hang there, sucking in air, and then turn to her just as she makes the climb … a couple of seconds behind me.
“Looks like you’re mine,” I tell her.
She sits back in the harness, wiping a sweaty string of hair from her forehead. “I don’t know if I should be happy or terrified,” she laughs. “What exactly have you got planned for me?”
“You’ll just have to wait and see. But Grace?”
“Hmm?”
“I’m so proud of you right now.”
“Proud?” Her eyebrows furrow in bewilderment. “I lost, in case you didn’t notice.”
“Yeah, but you’ve clearly conquered your fear of heights.”
Her mouth forms a cute-as-hell O shape. “Jeez, I didn’t even think about that! I guess it’s just easier when I’ve got you egging me on, hmm?”
***
Later, I sit in the office, squeezing the tennis ball in one hand as I navigate my emails with the other. I spend some time responding to sponsors, dealing with work stuff, but I can hear people laughing outside the office and it makes me think of Grace. Which isn’t saying much.
Everything is making me of think of Grace lately.
The way she laughs is like an invisible thread tugging me back to the past, forcing me to remember what I was like before the dirt bike injury and my stolen career. When I was still – dammit – when I was stillhopefulabout life.
But that isn’t part of the revenge plan.
I look up at the knock on my door. It’s heavy, not Adam, my receptionist’s, subtletap-tap. So I know it’s Nick even before I call for him to come in.
The ex-rugby player swaggers into the room, squeezing the crimson handles of the forearm strengtheners. “Just wanted to let you know those climbing wall people loved the photographs. They want to use them for promotional material for corporate events. I negotiated a sweet fee.”
“Good work,” I tell him with a smile.
