Page 44 of Pure Temptation

Alana’s expression softened. “I see.”

Daxon’s progress up the mountain was slow, methodical and confident. He had clearly rehearsed this route many times, because he seemed to know exactly where he was going. His muscles flexed as he dipped his fingers into the chalk pouch by his side and then found his grip to climb the next few inches of rock. It was incredible. Of course millions of subscribers tuned in each time, captivated.

Watching him move, his broad back and shoulder muscles as chiseled as the mountain face, bunching, rippling, his focus solely on the rock in front of him, this was about so much more than money and fame. His comments about existential awakening hadn’t just been bullshit. As he moved along the face of the mountain, it was as if a part of him came alive. He was at peace, wearing that same look he’d had that day on the beach. Watching it was both beautiful and incredibly depressing. She had asked him to give this up, this part of him. That twist in her stomach came back, the one that had started during their last night together, when she couldn’t decide if she was mad at Daxon for taking this risk or angry with herself for asking him to quit. Was this how her mother had felt about her father, too?

Kendall bit her lip and watched the man in front of her. There was a good chance he would die at a young age, like most free solo climbers, unless he wanted to stop. But he didn’t want to. That was his path, and she had to respect that. She just didn’t want to watch it play out...except here she was, glued to his YouTube channel, despite everything.

Muscles coiling, toes digging into rock, springing up, sideways, fingers catching on ledges with each full-body extension, he rose, concentrating on every move. He paused, and Kendall stiffened, holding her breath. But then he smiled. Hanging by one hand, shaking out the other, he smiled that cocky smile at the camera, the one that said,I’ve got it all under control. Daxon Miles was in his element, working—

And then it happened.

Just as Daxon shifted his weight, the rock loosened under his foot, and it slipped. As he scrambled for a foothold, she saw it. Fear. It flashed across his face. She had watched his Pure Adrenaline videos embarrassingly often, and never once had she seen fear. He knew it, too; he must have, because he stopped and looked away. Something had gone wrong, but this was a live broadcast, and there was nowhere to go. The camera panned back, waiting. How long would she and the rest of the crew just watch?

“Help him,” Kendall whispered.

Alana had grabbed her hand somewhere in the last few seconds. Kendall didn’t remember it happening, but now she was squeezing it hard. She could see Daxon’s shoulders rising and falling. Were these his last breaths?

The simmering regret boiled over, flooding her thoughts. She should have gone with him. Just spent a few more days together. And she had given it up because she was afraid he would die in one of these stunts.

Except the truth was that despite all her fears, she had never really believed that he could dietoday. In her heart, she had believed he had more time. But what if there was no future? What if she had just spent the last week worrying about him from across the Pacific when she could have been worrying about him while she lay next to him? Or under him...

“I should be there right now,” she whispered.

Alana shook her head decidedly. “You absolutely should not. If something goes wrong, you shouldn’t be there.”

Kendall frowned. “Maybe. But what about all those other moments before the climb? I gave up days with him. I chose to give up what could be my very last chance with him.”

Alana nodded slowly.

Tears welled in Kendall’s eyes, and she fought to hold them back. “If he falls, it won’t hurt any less. Staying back doesn’t make me care less. But it does make me regret the time I missed.”

“You’re falling in love with him,” she said softly.

“It’s ridiculous,” said Kendall with a sniff. “I’ve only spent two weeks with the man, and they were six months apart.”

“But those were two very intense weeks, one of which included plenty of spectacular sex, right? If you convert all those hours together to dating time, that’s probably months.”

“Still.” Kendall glanced at the screen. Daxon was still there, in the same position. She took another drink of her screwdriver, but it wasn’t helping the jumble of worries and hopes that was stirring in her mind.

The camera zoomed in slowly, and Kendall and Alana fell silent, their gazes fixed on the TV. Then Daxon started to move, slowly at first, then gaining speed. He found his rhythm, climbing with the same confidence she had seen so many times in his videos. Kendall let out a shuddering sigh. If he made it up the mountain, she was going to...do something. She didn’t know exactly what, but she had to let him know that she had made a mistake. That she shouldn’t have shut him out, because as it turned out, even a few more days of being with him was more important than her fears. But there was no reason to plan her apology yet. He still had a long way to go before he reached the top. Then, if he made it, she’d figure this out. In the meantime, she was going to need another drink.

Daxon Miles had never once been afraid when he filmed a Pure Adrenaline episode. He prepared everything he did meticulously, and if he felt even a twinge of fear, it was a good indication that he needed more preparation. He choreographed every last move so that when the camera rolled, all he was thinking about was the moment he was living in. It was why Calvin had suggested the video series in the first place and probably the reason behind their runaway success: because when Daxon was in the middle of a stunt, anyone who watched could see that he was on top of the world.

Until today. His foothold slipped. It was the kind of thing that could happen during climbs, the kind of thing he was prepared for, and he had been in more perilous situations before. He had walked himself through this scenario so many times and trained his brain to move on, to focus on his next move. Instead his mind went somewhere new, somewhere that had hit him hard in the gut and twisted into fear, a climber’s worst enemy. Instead he thought of Kendall. He had seen her face etched with worry and sadness when he left her cabin.

He never thought about worst-case scenarios on the mountain. Despite the fact that death could be one slip of the foot away, he blocked it out, both as a matter of self-preservation and because embedded in the decision to take the risk was the acceptance of this possibility.

But when his foot slipped, he saw the whole thing through Kendall’s eyes. Which was exactly what he shouldn’t do, exactly what put him in the most danger. Lin, the camerawoman, was filming his every move, but this time, he couldn’t smile at the camera. He turned away and stared at the rock under his hands. He couldn’t go back in time and stay in Kendall’s cabin instead of walking away. He couldn’t change the path he was on. Not yet. But when he got to the top, he could do something about it. What the hell that something was, he didn’t know. But he’d figure that out once he wasn’t scaring the shit out of Kendall, if she was watching. And his entire team. And himself, if he were completely honest. Because every second he stalled made falling to his death more likely.

It took all of Daxon’s mental strength to turn his focus back to the mountain in front of him, and those years of training were powerful. One hand, one heel hook, one toe jam, one extension, a high foot, a weight shift, exactly the way he had done it a dozen times before, until finally he was close. Just three more moves. Two. One. And then he was at the summit. Lin climbed over the last ledge, and Calvin was there, waiting for him. Daxon knew he was supposed to say something to his viewers, but he had no idea what it was. Calvin, probably sensing this, motioned for Lin to pan to him.

“That was incredible,” he said, his own face lit up with joy. “Thank you to the over one million viewers who are watching this live, across the world.”

Daxon listened as Calvin went through their plans for the next six months, as they prepared for the El Cap free solo. He was supposed to be happy about this. The sponsorships, the ad revenue, the worldwide brand expansion—everything that Calvin had so carefully planned was making a leap forward today. Pure Adrenaline was taking off on a whole new level.

This should’ve been the ultimate adrenaline rush, his moment of triumph. But instead, it was as if he had fallen into a big empty hole of uncertainty. He didn’t care if a million or even a hundred million strangers were watching him right now. There was only one person that he was thinking about, and he was worried thatshemight be watching. Because if she was, he had just scared the hell out of her. Enough so that she’d never want to speak to him again.

Calvin glanced over at him, his mouth in a flat line. Then he turned back to the camera and smiled. “Lin, let’s get a look at the views.”