Phone in hand, Reagan stood, put her glass on the porch railing, and positioned herself to aim the camera at Graham and Claire’s clasped hands.
“I’ll take a few,” she said, looking at the screen and dropping her arm when she’d taken satisfactory shots. “Wow. I can’t wait to see how this turns out.”
Claire released Graham’s hand. “Don’t be so sure it will. I could meet my future husband tomorrow, which would void the agreement.”
“Or you’ll never meet him,” Graham said. “Maybe we’ll grow old together. Come to think of it, this is way better than the original idea. Fuck buddies for life.”
Claire groaned. “Oh, no.” What had she done? “Can I take it back?”
Graham and Reagan spoke simultaneously.
“Nope.”
2
Graham Scott made a point of risking his life at least once a month.
Nothing completely overboard. He wasn’t out BASE jumping or highlining every weekend. Rock climbing, mountain biking, and skiing were more his style—he was always up for the toughest routes and rarely let extreme weather keep him down.
He’d started chasing the thrill of adventure the summer after eighth grade and never stopped. That rush of adrenaline never got old, and the few times he’d taken things too far and injured himself did nothing to cool his ardor. If anything, it made him want to up the ante even more.
His love for action wasn’t the reason he became a firefighter, but it sure as hell kept him interested. Before the prospect had come to mind he’d been worried he’d never find a career he’d truly enjoy short of becoming a climbing or white water rafting guide for some mountain adventure company. And dealing with amateur tourists would have gotten old pretty damn quick.
He loved nothing more than pushing his body and doing things only an elite few ever would. Even if Eldorado Canyon was often full of other climbers—like today—they still made up a small percent of the population. This was Colorado and housed arguably one of the most active populations in the United States.
Here, he was with his people.
Pulling himself over the final edge of Vertigo, one of his favorite routes in the canyon, Graham was met by the smiling face of his best friend, Noah.
“Nice climbing, man.”
“You, too.” Graham shook out his arms, muscle fatigue telling him he’d used them more than usual. Footwork was most important, and he knew better than to rely on upper body. But with the overhang on the fourth pitch he’d had no choice. He pressed his back to the wall and looked out at the red-and-yellow rock formations jutting out in the canyon beyond, dotted with the green trees. “I’ll never get tired of this view.”
Noah pressed a chalked palm against the ledge. “I wonder how many people have stood right here in this exact spot.”
Graham unhooked his water from his harness and took a swig, shaking his head. “Dunno. I’m just glad I get to be one of them.”
Noah didn’t respond, which wasn’t unusual. He was the quietest, most introspective person Graham had ever met.
As he often did at the top, Graham thought about Nathan, Noah’s late brother and the brother he’d met first, and wished he was here. Nathan and Graham had been the same age, and after meeting at orientation their first year at CU and bonding over a love of rock climbing, they’d become fast friends. Graham had quickly been introduced to Nathan’s younger brother, Noah, and the three often embarked on mountain expeditions together. After a car accident that took Nathan’s life, Noah and Graham’s friendship had remained a welcome constant in an otherwise tumultuous few years that followed.
He wouldn’t ask, but Graham would bet good money Noah was thinking about his brother, too.
Graham wasn’t one to dwell, so after a moment of remembrance he cleared his mind, but wanted to give Noah the time he needed. They stood in silence, listening to the sounds of nature, letting their bodies breathe before rappelling back down to solid ground. After a few more minutes, Graham tipped his head at Noah, his helmet sliding forward. “What do you say we head down, clean up, and grab a beer?”
“Can Mia come?”
If his friend had married anyone else, Graham would have groaned and tried to push for a guys’ night out. But he adored Mia, and if he said no, Noah wouldn’t come. “You know she’s always welcome, man.”
Noah gathered handfuls of rope and nodded. “Let’s do it.”
“Need a wingman?” Noah asked, elbowing Graham in the ribs.
Graham took a swig of beer and grunted. “Please. I can get a woman without your help.” He’d come a long way since his teenage years, when he was the poor kid at a rich school and the girls didn’t find him worth their time. Nowadays, if he wanted a woman in his bed at closing time, he’d have one willing to accompany him there. “Plus, I think that wedding ring on your finger might do more harm than good.”
“You’d think, wouldn’t you?” Mia fairly growled. “Didn’t stop the barista at Starbucks from making eyes at him yesterday.”
Noah chuckled and pressed a kiss to Mia’s hair. He whispered something in her ear that made her blush, and Graham smiled and looked away.
His eyes skirted around the dim room and landed on a woman with curly blond hair. He perked up, thinking Claire had seen his text and decided to join them. But the woman turned, revealing a face that was attractive but unknown, and his excitement slipped away like an extinguished flame.
He loved Noah and Mia and enjoyed spending time with them, but they definitely fell on the reserved side. As in, perfectly content sitting at the bar, slowly nursing the one and only beer each they’d inevitably order, talking and people watching. Claire, on the other hand, matched his penchant for taking shots, telling crude jokes, and the kind of loud laughter that earned glares from people sitting nearby. She was always up for pool or dancing, and he just...had more fun when the whole crew was together.
Sitting here quiet and content to escape everyone’s notice reminded him too much of the days when he did things like that on purpose. He hadn’t felt the need to be invisible in a long time, and he had no intention of going back there.
Claire had been sleeping when he left for climbing that morning, so she wasn’t working today. She was gone when he got home to shower, though, and hadn’t answered his text about meeting at the bar.
What was she up to tonight? Mia was one of Claire’s best friends—she’d probably know.
“Talk to Claire today?” he asked.
“Yep. She called me a few hours ago freaking out about what to wear on her date.”
His eyebrows shot up. “Date?”
“Yeah. Someone from work asked her out.”
Graham hummed and took a sip of his stout. It didn’t bother him Claire was on a date, but he was a little surprised she hadn’t told him about it, especially after their conversation on the porch last week. They used to help each other in the dating department, as a matter of fact.
Usually on a night like this, they’d be unstoppable. He’d steer her away from men he got a bad feeling about (after an incident four years ago with a guy who still lived with his mother, she welcomed Graham’s intuition) and she’d scope out women who were funny and easy to talk to. They’d worked out a hell of a system, somehow making it clear they weren’t a couple at the get-go, erasing any hesitation from interested parties to approach.
Mia’s voice startled Graham out of his thoughts. “How about a wingwoman?”
“Sorry?”
“You don’t want a wingman, but you and Claire seem to get a ton of attention together. I could pose as your sister. Tell them about my kidney transplant and how my wonderful, doting brother took care of me—Oh! Want me to tell them you donated the kidney?”
Graham blinked. “Uh, I don’t think—”
“We look alike, actually,” Mia said, holding out a lock of her dark hair. “We could totally pass for siblings.”
Noah snickered, and Graham ran his palm along his jaw. “Thanks. But I’m good. I’m not looking to score a date tonight.”