Page 9

RELENTLESS MENACE

STELLA

My heart hammers in my chest as I stare up at Squeaky Bum Climb, a massive warehouse-style building that houses one of the most state-of-the-art indoor climbing facilities in the city.

Based on the photos I saw online, it’s an impressive space, sleek, modern, and meticulously designed for adventure.

But what’s even more impressive? The man who runs the place.

The same man I slept with three weeks ago and had zero plans of ever seeing again.

Yet, here I am. Because apparently, fate is a relentless menace who doesn’t know when to quit.

Rewind to two weeks ago when I met with the editor-in-chief of Hoosier Insider , I was eager to take on some local contracts—a few assignments to get me back into the swing of things while I’m in Indy. At the time, I had no idea what the assignments actually were.

Then, two days ago, I got the official list of businesses I’d be covering for a feature on urban adventure activities.

Squeaky Bum Climb was on the list.

The name rang a bell immediately. A quick search confirmed why.

Luke Farley.

The man. The myth. The ridiculously good one-night stand.

For a solid two minutes, I panicked. But then I reminded myself that it was just one night. No awkward goodbye. No lingering expectations.

Luke was fun. The sex? Incredible. And if I’m being honest, I genuinely enjoyed flirting with him. But that’s all it was. Nothing more.

Besides, this is work. I’m a professional, and if there’s one thing I can already tell about Luke, even after just a single night, it’s that he probably is too. It’s been three weeks. We’re both over it.

At least, that’s what I’ve been telling myself.

But now, sitting here in my car, staring up at the building, my calm, logical reasoning is being drowned out by the sudden rise of anxiety creeping up my spine.

I inhale deeply, gripping my camera bag a little tighter.

Because now…it’s real.

I can’t pretend like I imagined him, like that night didn’t happen. I can’t push it to the back of my mind as some fleeting, reckless decision I made and walked away from without a second thought.

Because now, I have to walk straight back into his life.

And worse? I have no idea what’s waiting for me on the other side of that door.

I make my way through the parking lot and head inside.

The scent of rubber and plastic hits my nose. It’s not a horrible combo, but it’s definitely unique—I suppose it makes sense. I notice it’s quieter than I expected it to be. But it’s the mid-day lull, which is why this time was selected.

I look around, hoping to find my contact, Maddie.

But instead, my eyes land on Luke. He’s near a free-standing rock wall, adjusting a harness for a customer.

Just as I register it’s him, his gaze lifts to mine.

For half a second, visible surprise crosses his face, but then, like a switch, he schools his expression into something cool and unreadable.

I realize I’ve frozen in place, so I walk toward the check-in desk. He says a few words to the customer before striding my way.

That smug smirk I remember makes an appearance.

“Trouble. Didn’t expect to see you again.”

Flutters low in my belly spark to life from both the nickname and his voice. I forgot how sexy his voice is.

Ugh. Stupid, traitorous hormones.

I narrow my eyes. “You call all your customers Trouble, or am I special?”

He chuckles. “I only give nicknames to the ones who try to sneak out of my bed at sunrise."

Huffing out I laugh, I school my features. “That was three weeks ago, Luke. You’re supposed to be over it by now.”

“Who said I’m not?”

A beat of charged tension buzzes between us. I force myself to focus and set my camera bag on the desk.

“I’m here for a shoot. Not banter.”

Stepping back, he throws his hands up, faking innocence.

“I can be professional.”

And in that moment, I feel like he absolutely can not .

“Is someone questioning your professionalism, Luke?” a woman asks, walking up behind the desk.

He snorts. She smiles widely at me after glancing at my camera bag.

“You must be Stella with Hoosier Insider . I’m Maddie Carter. We spoke via email.” She shoves her hand forward in greeting, and I smile back as I shake her hand. “Do you two know each other?”

“Not well,” Luke mutters.

I ignore her last question and answer her first.

“I am. It’s just me today, though. Finn, the writer, was delayed at the airport this morning and will need to schedule a follow-up. I hope that’s okay,” I tell her, completely ignoring Luke.

“Totally fine. Have him reach out, and I’ll set up a time to talk,” she says.

She’s young. She’s also perky and happy. Lots of energy. I like her, and I hope I do this shoot with her and not the silent man leaning against the desk—the one studying me with a stupid, sexy smirk on his face.

“I need to get out my camera, but I want to walk around and get some shots of the place,” I tell her.

“Great. I’m going to have Luke walk with you.

He can tell you everything you need to know about Squeaky Bum.

I have a meeting I need to get to, so in case I don’t see you before you leave, you can email me any follow-up questions you might have.

And if you ever want to climb, I know a guy.

” She winks at me before looking at Luke.

“Be professional boss,” she says, and with that, she flits away.

I watch her go, briefly wondering what kind of relationship she and Luke have.

“Well, she’s fun,” I say, unzipping my bag.

“Sure,” he offers.

When I don’t respond, he lets the silence stretch between us. I get my camera ready before speaking again.

“So, why don’t you show me around and tell me about this place while I snap photos?” There. Easy enough.

“Sounds good.” He lifts his hand, directing me to start walking.

"Squeaky Bum started in Chicago. My uncle built the brand with a big community focus. When I got the chance to open this location, I wanted it to have that same feel. Indy needed something that wasn’t just another chain gym."

I study him while he talks. He’s easy-going, but so passionate. He stands with his arms crossed as he looks out across his domain. I frame him just right in my viewfinder for a photo that I know will be great for the article.

Damn him for looking good.

He looks over his shoulder at me and flashes me a knowing grin.

"You getting all my best angles?"

“I make everyone look good. It’s a gift,” I tell him.

“Modest, too.” He laughs.

I ignore him and keep shooting.

A while later, against my better judgment—for my lady parts, that is—I ask if he’ll demonstrate some climbing. None of the current climbers look to be especially skilled, and I would have to do a media release with them.

I watch him gear up and take a few photos of said gear while trying not to focus too much on the man himself.

He talks me through some of the skill levels they teach but also talks about what they do to help climbers prepare for real climbs.

He’s mid-climb on a wall that doesn’t look very safe.

His muscles are flexed, and he’s focused.

Objectively, it’s a great shot. Subjectively, it should be illegal for someone to look that good while scaling a wall.

When he’s done showing off his skills, he drops down to ground level.

“You should give it a shot. I can walk you through it,” he tells me, dusting off his hands.

Snorting, I say, “I know how to climb, Farley. I don’t need a lesson."

Grinning back at me while he works at his harness, he says, “Oh, really? Didn’t peg you for the outdoorsy type.”

“I take pictures of extreme sports for a living. You think I just stand on the sidelines?"

Tilting his head, he studies me, and I shift on my feet.

“Alright, Snapshot. I’ll believe you when I see it.”

Snapshot. Damn him.

I hate that I like that nickname.

I’ll admit, I spend slightly longer than I really need to taking photos of Squeaky Bum.

But when Luke starts talking about rocking-climbing and his plans for the business, I can’t seem to focus on my shots.

He’s so passionate about this place; I really would like to just let him tell me all about it.

I tell him that I need to take a few more shots and that he doesn’t need to stick with me, but he declines and follows silently. Making it full circle, we’re back at the front of the building. I’m focusing on my last shots when a gust of warm air hits my back as the front door swings open.

I hear a familiar giggle when I glance over my shoulder and nearly choke.

Lilly, my six-year-old niece, bounces into the gym, eyes wide with excitement as she heads my way. Right behind her is Ruth Ann James, Layla’s grandmother.

What the actual hell is happening right now? Am I in the Twilight Zone ?

Blinking at them, I lower my camera.

I momentarily forget the man next to me until he steps past me to greet the newcomers.

“Hey, there. You must be one of my new climbers,” Luke says, looking down at Lilly.

She beams up at him.

I’m so confused when I make eye contact with Ruth and ask, “What’s happening?”

Ruth, in her elegant, nonchalant way of hers, just smiles and says, “I heard about this place and wanted to check it out. I’m far too old to climb myself, and when I saw they have a tiny climber’s class, I thought of little Lilly here. I talked to Harper and offered to bring her.”

Luke reaches out to shake her hand, and I can tell by the way her eyes sparkle at him, she’s probably figuring out how to match him with one of her clients.

I stifle an eye roll at the thought.

“Hi, I’m Luke. I’ll be teaching the tiny climber class.” He shakes Ruth’s hand, then he focuses on Lilly.

“I’ve got two new climbers today. Can you tell me who you are?”

“I’m Lilly!” my niece says, dancing around, clearly excited. “My Aunt Stelly takes my pictures all the time. Is she taking yours?”

I groan.

“Oh, darling. Your auntie here is amazing behind the lens. Very talented.”

Luke slowly turns toward me, realization dawning.

Grinning at me, but talking to Lilly, he says, “Your aunt, huh?”

I narrow my eyes at him. “Don’t start.”

Lilly brushes my side as she admires the climbing walls behind us.

“This place is so cool,” she says. And thank goodness she’s not offering up any more personal information about her Aunt Stelly.

Ruth leans in, her voice just low enough for me to hear, “And so delicious.”

I glare at the woman I’ve known since I was eighteen.

Luke kneels to Lilly’s level, grinning. “Think you’re ready to be a climber?”

Nodding furiously, she nearly yells, “Yes!”

My ovaries squeeze at the sight of him with my niece—which just pisses me off. I force my eyes elsewhere, which is when I notice Ruth watching him closely, then she catches my eye, and a slow, knowing smile creeps onto her face.

“Well, well. This should be fun.”

“I hate everything about today,” I mutter under my breath.

Luke stands. “No, you don’t. You love a surprise.”

“No, Luke. I really don’t,” I tell him flatly.

Lilly is still all giggles as Luke gives her his attention and walks her and Ruth over to the check-in to get signed in. Ruth follows with a knowing smile as she takes in the atmosphere, and I lag behind, something twisting in my chest…and I don’t like it one damn bit.