All this time, I thought Ryke was one-hundred percent right. But Dr. Banning said that the solution for me isn’t celibacy but rather a focus on intimacy. And being intimate with my partner actually requires my partner. By the prolonged distance, I can tell she fears I’ll revert to porn, masturbation, or worse, other men, to fill the empty space. I won’t. She said I have willpower, and I’m trying to exert it to the fullest degree while he’s gone. And if he doesn’t want to come back to me, well…I’m also trying not to think about that.
I stir a cherry in my juice. “You don’t trust me, do you? That’s why you’re here.”
Ryke stretches his arms on the back of the couch, his muscles sharpening more than before. He looks like he owns the damn yacht. How do I get that type of confidence? I wish it could rub off on me. On second thought…maybe not. That would mean I’d have to get physically closer to him.
“Honestly, I’m worried about you. I’m hoping that if you have some sort of panic attack that I’ll be here.”
“Because you promised Lo that you’d look after me while he’s gone,” I say with a nod. “I’m sorry if I’m keeping you from having a better winter break. What would you be doing anyway?”
“I got an invite to go snowboarding in Aspen with some friends, but I already turned it down before Rose called me.”
I frown. “Why?”
“I was planning on rock climbing, and my friends don’t climb, so…” He shrugs like it’s no big deal.
I’m still stuck on the ‘rock climbing’ bit. “You rock climb?”
“Since I was six. I loved everything about it, and I spent hours at indoor climbing gyms. I remember I’d beg my mom to let me go before school even though I spent all day there the minute the bell rang to release class. My mother hates it, so she put me in track to see if I’d stop, but I didn’t. I just found two things that I love instead of one. She was ecstatic when I told her I changed my plans this week.”
“Do you climb actual mountains?” I squint, trying to picture him harnessed and dangling from a slab of rock.
“Yes, Lily, I climb mountains.” He shakes his head like that’s such an inane question.
“What? You could have spent your whole days in the gym.”
“I would have been bored,” he says. “I climbed so much that I kept pushing myself for something new and challenging. That’s what my trip was supposed to be about. I was going to free solo climb Half Dome at Yosemite. I’ve free soloed El Capitan in the same National Park a couple times before, but never Half Dome.”
I have no idea what those mountains are or what they look like, but if he’s been climbing since he was six and for so many hours, he must be pretty good.
“My mother has been freaking out about it for the past month, but the weather turned out to be bad in California anyway. I would have had to reschedule, even if I didn’t come here.”
If I had a son, I would be freaking out too. “What’s free solo climbing?” I mean, obviously, solo entails being alone, which sounds dangerous enough. If I had the guts to shimmy up a mountain, I’d want someone there to catch me if I fell.
“No ropes,” he tells me. “Just me and the mountain and some chalk.”
My mouth slowly hangs. “Wha…that means…if you…no.” I shake my head at the image of Ryke losing his grip and splatting on the hard ground. “Why would you want to do that?” I pause in thought. “Is it the adrenaline rush?”
He shakes his head. “No, everyone asks me that, but I don’t get that feeling like I do when I run. If you have an adrenaline rush when you’re climbing, it probably means you’re falling off the mountain. When you feel fear, your chest constricts, and you’ll probably slip and die.”
I gape. “Are you serious? You don’t get scared? Not even a little bit?” How is that possible?
“Nope,” he tells me. “You have to be calm, and I love raising the stakes and trying to overcome them. Like I said, it’s a challenge.”
I stare at him like he’s an alien species, but I guess plenty of people free solo climb or maybe not. “Do many people die climbing without ropes?”
“Maybe a little less than half of people who free solo.” He shrugs again.
“You’re crazy.”
He smiles. “So my mother tells me.”
The pack of girls suddenly filters onto the deck in varying shades and styles of swimsuits. Most are string bikinis, but I see a few cut-out one-pieces that expose hips and lower backs. Half of the girls run to the padded chairs on the sun deck, trying to fight for ones with the best light. A few meander over to our lounge area and plop on seats around Ryke and me.