Page 41 of North

The irony isn’t lost on me that she viewed us as a team today, when she’s been so averse to identifying as part of a couple. I don’t point that out though.

“Let’s do it again sometime,” she says, her smile widening.

I chuckle. “You’re on, Abrams.”

And at that moment, I know I’m not just helping Farren climb walls—I’m breaking hers down, one step at a time.

We turn in our equipment and head out to the truck. Once I have it started, I ask, “What do you say about staying at my place for the next couple of days? It’ll save me from driving back and forth, and we can spend more time together.”

She glances at me, her eyes narrowing slightly in mock suspicion. “Are you inviting me to stay over just so I’ll cook for you?”

I grin. “You caught me. My fridge is woefully understocked. Plus, I want sex.”

She laughs, but there’s a flicker of something softer in her expression. “How many nights are we talking?”

“Well, we’ve got the home game tomorrow, then a day off before we head to New York and San Diego. So, three nights?”

She considers, then tilts her head. “All right, but only if you promise to do the dishes if I cook.”

“Deal,” I say, grinning. “But only because I’m terrible at saying no to you.”

We head out of the parking lot and I aim for Rafferty’s condo so she can pack some stuff. Her hand rests on the center console and I itch to take it in mine, pull it over and rest it on my thigh. But that’s just the sort of romantic move that might freak her out, so I resist.

I wonder what she’s thinking as her fingers absently tap against her thigh. She has a thoughtful furrow in her brow.

“So,” I say, breaking the silence as we merge onto the main road, “was today what you expected?”

She turns her head, a faint smile playing at her lips. “Honestly? No. When you said we were doing something fun, I thought maybe it’d be, I don’t know, bowling or mini golf. Not scaling walls like a wannabe Spider-Man.”

I chuckle. “You’re welcome. But come on, admit it—you loved spending time with me outside the bed.”

“We don’t always have sex in a bed. There’s the wall, the couch and the floor.” Her smile widens a fraction. “But it wasn’t terrible just hanging with you.”

“That’s high praise,” I tease, glancing at her.

She rolls her eyes but doesn’t argue. Instead, she rests her head back against the seat, her gaze fixed out the window. “It was different. Good different.”

I shift in my seat, feeling a tug of pride. “I’m gladyou gave it a shot. Not everyone’s brave enough to tackle a wall like that on their first real try.”

Her laugh is soft, almost self-deprecating. “Brave, huh? I don’t know about that. There were definitely moments when I thought I was going to fall on my ass.”

“But you didn’t,” I point out. “You pushed through. That’s what counts.”

She doesn’t respond right away, her fingers stilling on her thigh. After a moment, she says, “You’d told me it was a hobby of yours, but have you always been into climbing? You seemed way too comfortable up there.”

I nod, a grin tugging at my lips. “Yeah. My dad got me into it when I was a kid. He used to take me to this outdoor climbing spot near our house. At first, I was terrified, but he was patient. Taught me how to trust the gear, my footing, my hands. It kind of stuck with me.”

“Your dad sounds like a good guy,” she says, her voice softer now.

“He is,” I say simply, glancing at her again. “What about you? Did you do anything like this growing up? Sports? Hobbies?”

She snorts lightly. “Does reading history books and conducting science experiments in the basement count?”

“Depends,” I say. “Were you good at it?”

“Very,” she replies, her tone dry but amused. “I was a brainy nerd to the core.”

“Like how brainy?”

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