Page 10 of Truth and Temptation
“What’s your plan, then? Take off and leave town, run away from everything?”
I pivot on my feet to face my father. “I’m not running away from anything.”
He arches a thick eyebrow at me, challenging me.
“I’m not. I haven’t taken a vacation in almost a year. Is it really a crime to want some time off?”
Dad lifts his hands up, but it comes across as placating, not surrendering, and it only serves to make me angrier.
“No one is saying you don’t deserve to take a break, son. I’m just questioning why you can’t take your vacation and maybe spend some time with your family, with the people who love you.”
I snort in derision. The words want to fly off my lips that he doesn’t love me, he loves to guilt me, but I hold back. After all, no one places more guilt on myself than I do.
“I’m not going anywhere right away,” I say, forcing myself to speak more calmly, evenly. “I was hoping to stay here for a while, actually. Explore the area.”
Mom comes over and sits down beside me, reaching a tentative hand over to touch my knee. “I think that’s a lovely idea, honey. You and Ryder —” her voice cracks “— you both loved it here so much.”
I lift my glass to my lips and drain it before standing up and walking over to grab the bottle. Without saying a word I top off my father’s glass, earning a slight nod of thanks. The rest I tip into my glass. My parents leave for the mainland tomorrow, and I think I’ll be making another trip to La Lune Rouge Winery to get some more wine.
As my parents start to talk about something that’s going on back on the mainland, I let my mind drift. Unsurprisingly, my thoughts coalesce into an image of the woman who’s been at the forefront of my mind for days now. A woman who intrigues me more than she should.
Suddenly, I’m struck with a vision of sitting on this couch, looking out the window at the view of the water. But it isn’t my parents here with me, it’s Paige.
Somehow, my parents managed to leave this morning without mentioning my coming home in November again. I’m sure that’s not the end of it, but I’ll take the small mercy, seeing as I’m ready to climb out of my skin right now.
As soon as their car pulls out of the driveway, I hurry upstairs and change into some lightweight clothes that I can climb in. Grabbing my gear and tossing it in the back of my car, I turn to the page I marked in the guidebook I bought from Paige that first day, and double-check the directions to where I plan to go.
The drive is short, and I keep the volume on the radio up high, letting some old-school Metallica fill the car and drown the noise in my head. When I cut the engine in the nearly empty parking lot at the base of the bluffs I plan on climbing, the silence is deafening. It’s the same parking lot where I saw Paige after my hike, but I don’t let myself dwell on that. I need the physical and mental burn of climbing, not the distraction of a woman right now.
Quickly, I get my rock climbing shoes on and grab my chalk bag and crash mat. Finding the boulder field, I nod hello to a couple of other climbers but find a spot by myself. My mind goes through the routine tasks of setting up to climb like it’s second nature, which, in a way, it is. I may not have climbed in a month, but prior to that, it was a regular thing for me. Anywhere I traveled, I looked for places to climb. Whether it was indoor gyms or outdoor locations, I need the mental and physical challenge that rock climbing gives me. It calms me, quiets my mind, tires my body, and fills my soul.
When I reach the base of the first boulder I’m going to try, I take a few deep breaths. When my head is clear of thoughts of work, Ryder, and even Paige, I start to climb. The first route is fairly easy, and I hit the top hold quickly. Lowering myself down, I decide to try it again but challenge myself with finding only finger holds. That takes a little longer, and by the time I get back down, my heart is pounding and my arms are starting to ache. A few of the other climbers stop to say hi, and when I need a break, I join them with my protein bar and water. It’s nice to just shoot the shit with people who don’t give a fuck who I am or anything about me. We just talk climbing, local routes, and far away routes. I’ve been to Yosemite three times, and one other guy has as well, so we spend some time chatting about El Capitan.
Eventually, I hit the rock again. This time a new route, one that proves to be a lot more challenging than the others. I’m halfway up the boulder when it happens. Someone down on the ground laughs loudly, and it sounds so much like Ryder that my grip slips and my body slams into the rock. Wincing in pain, I manage to drop down to the ground cautiously before taking a look at my arm. A long gash is dripping blood. Fuck. That’s probably going to need stitches.
Some other climbers help me wrap my sweater around my arm and pack up my gear. The entire drive to the hospital in Westport, I’m cursing and swearing at my stupidity for letting myself get distracted by a fucking laugh. The nurse at the triage desk winces when I walk in, and I look down to see the blood has soaked through the sweater wrapped around my arm. I grimace back at her as she hurries to sign me in and check my vitals before escorting me to a stretcher.
“I’ll make sure a doctor comes over soon,” she reassures me, then walks off quickly. I watch her go and see her stop by an older woman standing behind a desk, who I’m guessing is the doctor. They glance over at me, take in my bloody clothing, and the doctor’s eyebrows raise up. I guess a small hospital like this doesn’t get many bloody arms. Whatever. I’m tired, grumpy, sweaty, and in pain. I just want to get some fucking stitches and get out of here. I hate hospitals.
“Wyatt? I’m Doctor Grey, no relation to Meredith, I assure you.” She gives me a wry grin that I don’t return. Not in the mood for jokes right now. I grunt in acknowledgment, and she thankfully turns her attention to my arm. Carefully we unwrap the sweater, and she and the nurse clean it up. The gash ends up not being too long and only requires a few stitches. After Doctor Grey finishes up, she gives me a shot of antibiotics and instructions on the signs of infection to watch for, then at last, I’m free to leave.
As I walk out to the main lobby of the hospital, a familiar voice hits my ears.
“I’m here to see Doctor Sidhu for his respirology clinic.”
I turn the corner to see Paige standing at a check-in desk. An unexpected wave of worry hits me out of nowhere. Paige is nobody to me. She’s just a woman I am attracted to. Yet seeing her here, in a hospital setting, has me realizing that the attraction I feel may be more than just superficial. She intrigues me, she pulls me in, she makes me want to know her better.
But no amount of physical attraction is worth the risk of going through the pain of watching someone I care about endure sickness. And if she’s here to see a respirologist, then she’s someone I need to stay away from.
I won’t go through that with anyone.
Never again.
Chapter six
Paige
I am irrationally angry.
