Dawn’s made it down to the bottom of the ravine and halfway up the other side. The rest of the Bear Pack is already at the top, chilling up on the ridge again, and Dawn is kind of in shock, half replaying that sick weightless feeling when she started to fall, and half replaying Warden’s green eyes, that deep, serious stare.

He hadn’t said anything, just held on to her until he was sure she was safe, and then he’d watched, his brow furrowed, as she lowered herself down the cliff and she’d touched down on the trail again and could feel herself blushing, her heart pounding rapid-fire like she’d just done a line, and she’d avoided his eyes and made her way down the rest of the ravine without looking back.

And frankly, Dawn’s hoping she can just climb up the other side with the rest of the Pack and forget about what just transpired right there, forget how scared she is of these stupid heights and how embarrassed she is at messing up and nearly dying, forget the stupid butterflies in her stupid stomach that went haywire as soon as she realized it was Warden holding on to her, as soon as she realized she was literally safe in his arms.

But Warden has other ideas.

“Yo, hold up,” he says again, and Dawn looks down the winding switchback trail to where Warden is steadily catching up to her, not breaking a sweat or even breathing heavily as he climbs.

(Dawn can see the muscles in his arms work as he pulls himself up, and how lean and solid his body looks under his shirt, and she feels herself blushing again and tries not to pay attention.)

(She looks away and continues up the trail.)

“Thanks,” she calls over her shoulder, trying not to sound like she’s just noticing that he’s, you know, hot. “I almost bit it back there.”

“Yeah,” Warden says, and even his voice is sexy, deeper than it has any right to be, and as solemn and serious as the rest of him. “Hey, wait up a second.”

“I’m good,” Dawn replies. She doesn’t slow down. “It’s all good.”

“No,” Warden says. “It’s not.”

Dawn slows and looks back at him, kind of surprised. “It’s not?”

“No.” Warden closes the last ten feet or so. They’re nearly at the top of the ridge; Dawn can see a cairn just above them where the wall levels out onto mostly flat rock again. She waits as Warden climbs up to her.

“Come here,” he says, and gestures to the cairn. He squeezes past Dawn, and with nothing else to do, Dawn follows.

Warden is waiting at the top of the ravine, hands on his hips. He beckons Dawn to come closer. Dawn puts on a nonchalant face and does what Warden wants.

“Hey,” she says.