“I can’t believe this whole place is man-made by sprinklers dripping over the rocks.”
“And I can’t believe you’ve never been to the Ouray Ice Park.”
“I know what it is, and I know about the ice-climbing festival they have every year, but for some reason, when you’re a local, you’re the last person to try out the fun things you live around.”
“It doesn’t have to be that way. Maybe you just need someone to explore your surroundings with.” He drops my foot, tapping my knee, signaling he’s ready for my other foot.
“That’s the tricky part.” I give him the next leg. “Up until now, I haven’t really had anyone.”
“What about before Justin?”
“Have you seen the size of Telluride? There’s not a huge pool of men to choose from. Mostly, I’ve just had casual relationships with out-of-towners who come to work for the winter.”
His eyes dart to mine. “Out-of-towners like me?”
Definitely not like you.
I brush away the stirring in my chest with an easy-breezy smile. “Yep, out-of-towners who are only temporary.”
“Yeah, that’s exactly like me. Temporary.” He finishes with my boot, dropping it to the ground. A flash of hurt skims through his eyes before he turns around to the gear bag. “And last but not least, protective headgear.” He faces me again, holding a helmet, and all traces of whatever I thought I saw before are gone.
I pull off my beanie and stand. Caleb takes a step forward, fitting the helmet over my hair. My stare stays on him as he fastens the loop under my chin. He shaved yesterday, not all the way smooth, just a trim, so his facial hair becomes stubble once again. I can’t picture what he’d look like with smooth, clean-cut skin. Actually, I can…because of Justin.
His fingers skim against my skin below my chin, sending a shot of warmth funneling through my body like hot cocoa rolling down my throat.
“All done.” But he doesn’t step back. Instead, his hand moves from the helmet strap to my ear, lightly taking the tip of my earlobe between his fingers and rubbing them over the metal. “I like today’s earrings,” he says without looking at me, and it’s a good thing because I think my expression is a cross between shock and delight. Dropping his hand, Caleb returns to the bag, leaving me melting behind.
My fingers go to the exact spot he just touched as if I can somehow stop the sensation. “They’re the Grinch,” I say under my breath.
Is it safe to climb an ice waterfall when your body temperature is this high? I would say no—fire and ice are not good combinations. Safety hazard.
The next time Caleb turns around, he’s holding a rope. “I’m going to climb up first and set the ropes. Then I’ll come down, and we’ll go up together.”
“You’re going up twice.” I glance at the seventy-foot frozen wall.
“Somebody has to set the ropes—unless you want to.”
“Nope, I’m good. I’ll just watch from the ground.”
And that’s exactly what I do. Iwatch.
Caleb effortlessly climbs over frozen ice, whipping ropes and carabiners around like he owns the place. His athleticism is impressive. I admire and respect what he does.
Do I find him incredibly attractive right now?
No.
Absolutely not.
I’m sticking with admiration and respect—feelings you can have for any human being, whether he’s your boyfriend’s twin or your boss.
A few minutes later, Caleb’s feet hit the ground.
“Very impressive.” I clap. “You looked like the abominable snowman up there, scaling ice walls like a pro.”
His chest lifts up and down from exertion, but he still manages to throw me a smirk. “You’re comparing me to a Tibetan yeti known for being large, hairy, and apelike?”
“No!” I laugh.
