Chapter Two Hailey #3
As the sting of such a sudden rise in adrenaline dissipates, I rest my focus on the place where Cole’s body presses to mine. I try to feel past my own racing heartbeat to his. And there it is—strong and steady, maybe a little faster than usual, but no match for my rapid staccato.
Maybe rescuing strangers from certain death is just a typical part of his day.
“I’ve got you,” he whispers, keeping his arm firmly wrapped around me.
“Are you okay up there?” someone shouts from the ground.
I make to answer, but all that comes out is a little choking sound. How embarrassing. But Cole doesn’t seem fazed by my sudden inability to speak. He calls down, “All clear!” in a rumbling baritone that vibrates through my breastbone.
After a few more seconds, reality sets in…and I realize how awkward this is.
I don’t know this man, and he doesn’t know me, and we’re holding onto each other like we’re about to lose the rappelling gear and get wild in the wild while dozens of strangers watch from below.
“Thank you,” I smile, forcing myself to pull back. I don’t—can’t—quite meet his eyes.
Cole gently releases me once I’ve found my balance on the rock face. “Nothing to thank me for. It would have been a damn shame to see you broken and bleeding after you just collected all those good karma points saving Jason.”
I appreciate his effort to lighten the moment, but I can’t come up with a response. All I can do is stare in horror at the empty space where a rock used to be, and imagine how crumpled my small body would have looked among the shattered pieces of stone below.
A chill rolls down my spine, but I force it away. I’m fine. It’s fine. I didn’t splatter like a dropped watermelon, and a criminally hot stranger saved me. Cool, cool, cool.
We make our way down carefully, finding natural handholds in the rock face. I’m almost too focused on not falling to notice how strong and solid Cole’s body is as he moves.
Almost.
When we reach the bottom, the crowd of hikers has mostly dispersed, though a few remain to watch the rescue team’s evacuation.
Jason’s friends are safely on the ground now, providing details to a park ranger.
Marisa has produced a selfie stick from god knows where and starts crying prettily while making doe-eyes at the camera.
The ranger looks like he wants to retire on the spot.
As the excitement fully subsides and the rescue team launches into the sky with Jason, I find myself standing next to Cole in the sudden stillness that follows.
The sounds of the forest that typically bring me peace—bird calls, rustling leaves, distant voices of hikers on the main trail—seem oddly amplified.
Fuck, I’m too awkward for this.
“So,” Cole says, shouldering his pack and meeting my gaze. “ER doc at Memorial, huh?”
“Ah, you caught that? I’m a resident. Work the night shift mostly,” I confirm. “You?”
“Tech division at Fortress Security Systems downtown.” He hesitates, then adds, “Military intelligence before that.”
“Well, Cole from Fortress Security,” I say, finding myself suddenly reluctant to end the encounter, “thanks for everything you did up there. Not every hiker comes fully equipped with rappelling gear and trauma response training, so it was really great having you there to help. Not to mention the whole saving-me-from-a-harrowing-death thing. That was really helpful, too.”
“Always be prepared,” he replies with a soft smile that brightens his serious expression. “Though I was hoping to use the gear for a more recreational climb today.”
“I’m sorry your hike didn’t go as planned.” I frown, feeling sorry for him again. That’s twice now this man has turned my stoic insides to marshmallow goo. What gives? My plans were derailed too, though that’s not totally unexpected. Like I said, trouble has a way of finding me.
He shrugs, and it takes everything in me to drag my wandering eyes from the way his muscles strain against the fabric of his black shirt. “It was more important than reaching the summit. Plus, the trails aren’t going anywhere. Unlike that guy.”
“Jason?”
“He’s definitely going somewhere.” Cole glances toward the empty sky where the helicopter has long since disappeared. “Viral, probably.”
A surprised laugh escapes me before I can catch it. So he does have a sense of humor under all that calm competence.
We stand in silence for a moment. I glance at my watch—I need to get moving if I want to finish the trail by nightfall.
I don’t fuck with the forest at night. Then again, I need to take a moment and assess whether or not I’m stable enough to keep going.
The past half hour—has it only been thirty minutes? —was one hell of a wild ride.
“Are you going to keep hiking or head back?” Cole asks, practically reading my mind. Is he stalling, as reluctant as I am to end this interaction?
I consider the question. The adrenaline crash will hit soon, but I haven’t gotten what I came out here for—a moment of peace.
I’ll regret it if I turn back now, and keeping my body moving will help flush out the adrenaline still coursing through my system.
“I think so. Maybe not all the way to the summit, but at least to the higher reservoir overlook. You?”
“Same,” he says. “I think I might take the South Ridge trail instead. It’s less crowded.”
I nod, familiar with the route. The views are spectacular, but the terrain is difficult enough that I find myself questioning my sanity every time I attempt it. “That’s a good one.”
I watch him for a moment, contemplating what to say next.
My fingers find the hair tie around my wrist and I slip it off, working it between them.
Tying it into a bow knot, feeling the fabric stretch and resist. There’s something satisfying about the tension.
Tighten, release. Tighten, release. Unconsciously, I sync the expansion and contraction to match my inhales and exhales.
I could come up with something to keep the conversation going… Or offer to join him.
The idea surprises me. I don’t usually do this—pursue men, or really anyone for that matter.
It’s been what, four years? Five? since someone actually made me want to try.
Most people are exhausting. They talk too much or not enough.
They’re intimidated by what I do or they find a way to fetishize it.
They want me to fix them, or they want to fix me, and I don’t have the energy for either.
But Cole is…different. Calm without being boring. Competent. He didn’t panic when Jason went down, and he definitely didn’t try to take over or mansplain anything to me. He helped where he was needed and stayed out of the way when he wasn’t. That’s rare. And attractive.
I pull the hair tie tighter, the knot going smaller before I release it and slide it back onto my wrist.
Do I really want Cole’s first impression to be of me hunched over with my hands on my knees, gasping for air and contemplating every bad decision that led me to hiking that trail again?
No, no… I don’t want to look like a dying animal in front of this gorgeous man.
So I decide this is where it has to end.
“Well, enjoy the rest of your hike. I need to get going if I want to be done before it gets dark. Thanks again for your help.”
“You too, Hailey.” He says my name carefully, like he’s testing how it sounds. Like he’s tasting it. “Stay safe out there.”
As we part ways, heading in different directions at the trail junction, I feel an unexpected twinge in my stomach. Not quite regret, but… Something I haven’t felt in a long time. Should I have offered to join him? I turn back to see how far away he is, but he’s already disappearing around a turn.
Fuck.
I’d look desperate if I went after him now.
My hand goes back to my hair tie. I slide two fingers beneath it, feeling it stretch around my wrist as I pull. I let it snap back against my skin, the sting drawing me back to reality.
I reluctantly shake off my lingering regrets as I jump back into my hike, focusing on the crunch of dirt and gravel beneath my boots. Cole was just someone who happened to be in the right place at the right time. It doesn’t have to be anything more than that.
Except it’s been years since I’ve wanted it to be more.
Still, as I reach the reservoir overlook and pause to drink water, I find myself scanning the opposite horizon, where the South Ridge trail winds upward.
I can’t see any hikers from this distance, just the golden-green landscape of early autumn in the foothills, but I wonder if Cole has reached his destination.
If he’s found whatever he was seeking in these mountains today.
Or even better, if he’s hunched over, heaving for air like I know I would have been.
The thought is fleeting, pushed aside as I continue my shortened hike. By the time I return to my car two hours later, the emergency feels distant, processed and filed away like the many others I’ve witnessed in my career.
Scanning the parking lot, I wonder which car is Cole’s, then force myself to make my way to my own vehicle. I release a lengthy sigh as I collapse into the driver’s seat, running my hands over my face.
Should I have gone with him?
I shake my head, pushing away the idea of what could have been. If he had wanted me to hike with him, he would have asked. End of story. This wasn’t meant to be our meet-cute.
I force my hands to the steering wheel and start the car, but the feeling of something there doesn’t quite go away.