Page 22 of My Fearless Fake Fling

Then he swatted my behind to get me moving like he were a coach and I was one of his players.

Len started shouting his encouragements to me right away, though I had to ignore him to concentrate.

I stood in front of the behemoth, contemplating each move before ever grabbing the first hold. It was slow-going. I had to stop to rest every second advance. Here I always thought I was in shape, but I supposed there was a big difference between “in shape” and “rock-climbing in shape.”

About halfway up, Len’s encouragements sounded as if they came from beside me instead of below me. I kept plugging away. Up two, rest. Up two, rest. Up two, rest.

Until—what the heck was going on? It sounded like Len’s encouragements came fromaboveme now. I looked up and sure enough, a harnessed, helmeted Len waited at the top of the rock wall.

“Come on, fearless,” he said. “You got this.”

What could I do besides make a final great push for the top? I didn’t want to disappoint Len… or myself if being honest. I took the last four advances without stopping. When I got to the top, he wrapped one arm around my waist to pull me close and planted a big, wet kiss to my forehead.

“You did it, baby,” he whispered right before letting loose an ear-piercing, “Woo!”

I shifted in his arms, holding on to the top of the wall with one hand, just as he did, to stare out at the vastness of the forest. The trees. The sky. What a rush. In that moment, I felt like my brother was looking down on me, smiling. Tears, happy yet tears nonetheless, filled my eyes.

“This is incredible,” I whispered.

“I got it all,” the attendant called up to us.

When I looked down, he had Len’s phone in hand.

“Did he video us?” I asked Len.

Len didn’t answer, but snared me in a killer—and by killer, I mean glorious—lip lock, right before he tightened his grip around my waist and pushed off the wall. We floated down and were greeted by the attendant at the bottom, who handed off Len’s phone so he could unhook us.

“That was amazing,” I shouted to everyone in earshot.

“We still have three more to go.” Len urged us away from the rock wall, taking us down another trail.

A ten-minute walk from the wall later had us climbing to the top of a—again I used my finger to count—this time six-story tower after getting the second hole-punch and once again being harnessed.

My thighs burned by the time we rounded the platform to the sixth story. That had to be the most wooden steps I’d stepped in my life for a single climbing adventure. And there was only one way down from here. Len expected me to zipline down, across a large pond or small lake, until I reached ground on the other side.

I covered my eyes with both hands. “I don’t think I can do this,” I said, somewhat panicked.

“You’re my fearless girl. Yes, you can.”

But I wasn’t his. I was fake his. And although fake his could probably do it, realmestarted to become dizzy. “No, Len. I don’t think I can.”

“Look at me, Kam.”

I turned to stare deep into those gorgeous blues.

“Kam… time to do that dare,” he sang to me.

“No, Len. I’d rather wash my hair,” I tried to sing the lyrics I’d made up in the car, though they sounded weak, squeaky and flat. “Did you hear that? Flat. Which is how I’ll end up if I fall. Do you really want that on your consonance? For me todie.”

“You’d hardly be any good to me dead, fearless. But I’ll concede, maybe it was the wrong song choice. Let me think.” He paused for a second. “Right. I got it.” Then he started singing, “That girl she bold, she fearless don’t you know…” The next words came unintelligible because I didn’t think he knew them. But then he hit the chorus, “She a badarse mutha f—”

I covered his mouth with my hand. He sang “arse” for me, but what did one replace the F-word with?

“Okay, okay…” I laughed. “I never heard that one.”

“And you wouldn’t. I made it up.”

“Wow, I’m impressed.”

---