I don’t think Xander ever had a favorite hoagie place.
Loren keeps going, “Tell him to back off. He’s not their best friend. He’s their twenty-eight-year-old bodyguard. And he’s going to be roadkill if he ever sees my daughter unclothed again. I don’t give a shit if it’s just for a tattoo. I’m not an idiot—I know how that spirals into other things.”
“It hasn’t, it won’t,” I assure Lo. “Donnelly is professional.” With a few more reassurances, I hang up, and I tell Donnelly, “You’re on Loren Hale’s permanent shit list. You’re not getting off.”
He nods a few times. “You transferring me?”
“No. Xander wants you on his detail, and Loren doesn’t want you to leave. But you need to tone down the buddy-guard routine. Just do your job. Don’t take him to Wawa anymore.”
“He wants to go, though.”
I sigh. “Just try not to influence him.” It might be hard because Donnelly doesn’t seem to be doing anything. He’s just cool in the eyes of Xander Hale.
I pick up my beer mug. “Before the meeting ends,” I tell them, “I want to say cheers to your Omega lead.” I gesture to Thatcher who starts to smile.
Banks, Quinn, Donnelly, and Oscar pick up their drinks.
“Congrats to Thatcher, for being the second bodyguard to do the impossible and be with American royalty. Can’t wait to be there and see you cry as Jane walks down the aisle.”
Everyone laughs.
“Thanks,” Thatcher smiles more, swigging his drink with the rest of us. But as the liquid slides down the back of my throat, I realize a third bodyguard is going to do the impossible and be with another American princess.
I’m just not sure who it’ll be anymore. Me or Banks. Any way I turn it, it feels like a total tossup.
42
SULLIVAN MEADOWS
October 30th. Hallow Friends Eve. The day I fucking finally free-solo.
Yesterday, the weather cleared for my final practice run, and I breezed through the route. Every handhold, every path to the top is engrained in my mind. So much so that I could climb Rattlesnake Knuckle blindfolded.
There is only one thing left standing in my way today.
The asshole climbers.
I thought we shook off Team Apex, but they’re back. And they’re placing foldout lawn chairs about a tennis court away from the base of the crag. Close enough that I’ll be able to hear their jeers and heckling while I climb.
I dip my hands in my chalk bag. Standing at the base of the crag, I try to ignore Team Apex and mentally focus.
This is it.
The last day that I can possibly free-solo in the Yellowstone region this year. The last day that we’ll even be here. Grand Teton will have to wait for another time. A cold front is rolling into Montana and Wyoming, and more than the winter conditions, we have to drive back to Philly for the wedding on November 1st. We leave tonight with plenty of time.
I seriously cannot let Team Apex distract me. If I bail today, there’s literally no other opportunity to complete my goal before next year. I don’t want to stall. I feel like all I’ve been doing is stalling out of safety, and I just want to climb.
Besides the unwanted campers, only Akara and Banks are my spectators. I called Moffy this morning because I honestly wasn’t sure if the weather would hold up enough. And I didn’t want him to fly back here just for me to pull the plug. He understood, but I could tell that he wishes he were with me.
It made me feel good that he’s still thinking of me. That being physically away again hasn’t wiped me from the minds of the people I love.
I chalk my hands another time.
Akara and Banks whisper behind me, and my stomach does twists and turns whenever I remember the end of the trip will mark the end of whatever we’ve been doing. And I’ll ultimately have to decide between them.
Concentrate, Sulli.
I smack my hands together, chalk pluming. I shake out my arms, then realize they’re both fixated on Team Apex.
Akara catches my wrist. “Wait before you climb, Sul.”
I frown. “What’s the plan?”
“We kick their asses,” Banks tells me strongly. “Then you climb that big rock.”
“What are you gonna do, just walk up to them and say fuck you and deck them in the face.”
“Yeah.” He bobs his head. “Exactly that.”
Akara detaches his radio on his waistband. “You’re not going to be a part of the ass-kicking, string bean. Just stay right here.”
I scoff. “I’m a lover, not a fighter anyway.”
And I want to maintain absolute focus on my climb. Revenge might derail me. It’s definitely set me back more than once this trip.
Akara smiles, flinging my hair at my face. “There’s my Sulli.”
My Sulli.
I instantly smile. “Go be my Kits, Kits,” I tell him, “and kick their asses.”
He bows, then picks up my hand, kisses my knuckles. “Will do, m’ lady.”
I shove his shoulder, and he smiles more while Banks is vigilantly observing Team Apex. But I notice how his eyes flit to me in a strong pulse of sadness.
I haven’t chosen yet.
I didn’t just pick Akara, but I can understand him thinking I might be on the road there.
“Did they make hot cocoa?” I question as Lincoln pulls out a thermos like they’re ready to watch a new theatrical release.
“Fuck them,” Banks says coarsely.
Akara marches forward, signaling Banks to follow, and I stay at the base of the crag, watching my bodyguards charge Team Apex.
Gaining distance on them, Banks approaches hotly and smacks a cup out of a hand. Hot cocoa goes flying.
“Hey, we have every right to be here!” Jordyn yells.
“Come back later,” Akara sneers. “You know what you’re doing. That’s life or death for her.”
“She’s choosing to free-solo,” Jordyn snaps. “That’s not on us.”
“Bullshit,” Akara curses. “You’re here to heckle her.”
Lincoln shoots up from his chair and angles towards Akara. “Fuck—”
Banks swings, and Lincoln goes down like a sack of flour. His friends hurriedly lift him up, his bottom lip already swelling. “Jesus,” one of them screams. “We’re going. Alright. You psycho.”
“Get the fuck outta here.” Banks feigns another hook and they all stumble to a quick exit. Some even leave behind their chairs as they trip over their feet. Running away from Banks and Akara. But mostly Banks. No one else wants to be punched.
I smile as they return to my side. “Nice job, Hercules,” I tell Banks.
He curves an arm over my shoulder. And my whole body sings as his head dips and lips meet mine in the most breathtaking kiss. It’s his hand that steals all my fucking senses—his hand that slips up the nape of my neck to my jaw. Holding my face protectively.
The kiss feels long but I know lasts only seconds. We break apart and I touch my tingling lips. He whispers, “I’ll be waiting for you down here.”
I inhale. “Alright.” Why do I not even want to leave anymore?
Banks looks like he wants to say more. Loving words scream inside his eyes and wail to be let out, but he cages them, his breath rising and falling heavily.