Law #1: Never Bet on Love: A Sweet Billionaire Love Story (Laws of Love) by Agnes Canestri (i read book txt) 📕

rings when I enter the gym. He’s changed into a similar attire to mine, but it looks much better on him.

His face is relaxed as if the odd conversation about his dad isn’t bothering him anymore. When he notices me, he lets the rings go and walks to me.

“Ready?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be. Thanks for the shoes, by the way. They fit perfectly.”

These shoes are the first gift that I’ve honestly thanked him for.

This realization startles me somewhat. Is it a sign that I’m more comfortable with Nathan now? Likely, yes. Also, somehow this present is different. It’s thoughtful. He bought me these shoes, because he wanted to share something from his life with me, so they make me happy instead of uneasy, despite the fact that they’re probably the most expensive brand out there.

“You’re welcome,” Nathan answers with a grin.

My pulse accelerates as if my heart is a Ferrari engine and his up-curved lips have just pushed the pedal to the metal. It can’t be just his looks that send my emotions into such a haywire. Though that’s definitely a factor. Nathan is easily one of the most attractive men I’ve ever met. But if he was just a pretty face, I wouldn’t have such a hard time keeping my cool.

No, it has more to do with his…charisma, charm, or even magnetism. The word doesn’t really matter. It can’t possibly encompass everything that’s bewitching about him. That dark, raw glint with which his eyes filled when we slow-danced together. That endearingly cute way his chin contracts when he’s embarrassed, like when he saw that flashy palace yesterday morning. The soft, tender tone he used with my brother…yes, all that makes Nathan special.

I recall Murphy’s worries that Abuelita entrusted me with. I can understand Murphy. Nathan deserves more than just dedicating himself to work. He’s probably very talented at what he does, but it shouldn’t be all of his life. He has so much to give. A depth I could have never fathomed the first time we spoke.

Nathan puts an arm around my waist and pulls me with him to the wall. “Shall we start?”

“Okay, but you go first. Show me how it’s done.”

“It’ll be my pleasure.” Nathan grabs with both hands onto a blue hold. “In bouldering, you have ‘problems’, as it’s called. The idea is for you to reach the top by only placing your feet and hands on the holds with the chosen color. You will do red, as that’s a traverse climb, and thus the safest, okay?”

“Okay.” I nod.

I think I understand why Nathan likes climbing. It’s not only a physical exercise, but also a mental one, in which you have to figure out the best way to keep on the route you picked. Add in the dash of adrenaline that may come when you reach a height where you could get injured, and it provides the perfect high stakes for someone with his character.

Nathan lifts both of his feet off the ground and pushes himself higher on the wall. He looks like Spiderman as he places his hands and feet in quick subsequent steps. He keeps speaking to me as he crawls higher and higher. “Over a long climbing session you can work on your stamina, but shorter climbs are all about power, and you’ll find that you get a good workout as your arms, legs, and core will all be engaged throughout.” In less than five minutes, he reaches the top and then makes his way back down to me. “It’s your turn now.”

I step over to the wall, placing my fingers around the red grip Nathan indicated to me. It feels rough beneath my fingertips, but I find that its form is well-designed and allows a fairly stable grasp.

Nathan comes up behind me and places his hands on my sides. “I’m going to accompany your movements, but without holding your weight. This way you’ll feel safe but still get to do it on your own.”

The route where the red holds are supposed to guide me don’t reach more than eight feet, so technically there is no real danger. The cushioning mats would soften any slips. But the sensation of a cocoon that Nathan’s hands provide is such that I gladly agree to his proposition.

“Okay, so up you go,” he murmurs into my neck, and his breath sends chills through my spine. The really nice kind.

I place a foot on another red hook and push myself upwards.

Nathan, just as he promised, doesn’t let go of me. His fingers stay glued to my waist, exercising just the right amount of pressure for me to know he’s got me, but without overpowering my movement.

I throw a slanted glance at the next red stepping rock, because it is indeed a bulge, not a screwed-in hold like the one I’ve just used. It seems too far for me to reach. “I’m not sure I can stretch that far without your help.”

“No, of course you can. You’ve got this, Eva. Use the outer edge of your shoe when taking your position. It will help to keep your center of gravity over your leg and ground you so you can grab that upper grip with a stretched arm. It’s always better than a bent one, because it gives your muscles a rest. If you hold tension, your arms will fatigue quickly.”

Actually, they’re already kind of doing that. But I keep this little secret to myself and attempt to shift my weight just as Nathan instructed me to do. Just as I raise my foot, I perceive a slight tightening of his palms on my skin, but as he sees that I’m not dropping, he eases back immediately, letting me accomplish my first bouldering step alone.

“I did it!” I exclaim triumphantly.

“Yes, you did. I told you that you could.”

I continue my route up the climbing wall, closely following Nathan’s instructions on when to use my arms and when to push from my thighs. He compliments me on my flagging skills—apparently