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“You go ahead. I’ll be right behind you,” I said, unable to recognize my own voice due to the shakiness.
“I know you will because you’re a Karate and Ju Ju master,” she teased.
“Neither Karate nor Jujitsu will prevent me from plunging to my death.”
She laughed and instructed Jake that she wanted to do a flip if he could manage.
“Not unless you want us to die. Tricks aren’t ideal for tandem,” he responded.
“Never mind. All right, Jon. I love you. I’ll see you on the ground.”
I wasn’t religious, but I started praying my ass off when Kierra screamed after they threw themselves out of the plane.
“You ready to go?” my partner Derrick asked.
Fuck no!
I inhaled deeply and nodded.
“I’ve done this a million times. Everything will be fine,” he chuckled, trying to reassure me as he strapped us together. The last thing I remembered was him backing us to the open door and falling.
Kierra
I bit back my smile as the elevator ascended. Jonathan’s eyes were closed, and his chest rose and fell as he attempted to hold his composure. He was still as pale as a ghost from skydiving. According to his tandem partner, Jonathan passed out as soon as they jumped. He didn’t regain consciousness until they werenearly on the ground. He tried to fake the deal and claimed Derrick was lying, but pictures never lie.
That man was out like a light.
“I can feel you staring,” Jonathan drawled, sounding every bit like Grant.
“Do you feel me undressing you with my eyes?”
He opened his eyes and smirked as he laced his fingers in mine. “Tell me what underwear I’m wearing.”
“Black Armani boxer briefs with a black band and white stitching,” I replied immediately.
“Voyeur,” he accused playfully.
“I do enjoy watching. I’ll wear that title like a badge of honor,” I teased. “What underwear am I wearing?”
“None. It’s in my pocket.”
I balked at his confession. After our afternoon of thrills, we returned to the rental and took a longer-than-necessary shower because Jonathan had to have me three different ways, almost making us late for our dinner reservation at Top of the World. We’d gotten a little handsy with each other in the front seat at the stoplights.
Thank God for heavily tinted windows.
And last I’d check, my panties were thrown haphazardly into the backseat.
Jonathan grabbed the rail for dear life when the elevator suddenly stopped at the top floor. I felt horrible. The poor man’s adrenaline was tapped the hell out. It wasn’t until today that I discovered he was afraid of heights, yet he pushed himself to do all that daredevil shit just for me. Despite his plans to ride ATVs through the desert and ride in a helicopter over the strip tomorrow, it’d be best if we had a wind-down day for his sake. I didn’t have to jump out of a plane, zipline through Fremont, or drive a supercar capable of going 0 to 60 in 3.2 seconds around the Las Vegas Motor Speedway to feel a thrill. I just needed him.
“We should take an easy day tomorrow,” I said once we exited the elevator.
“Thank God. What do you have in mind?” he asked as we approached the hostess stand.
“I don’t know. Surprise me.”
The hostess greeted us, but I didn’t hear her because the view of Las Vegas had rendered me speechless. The restaurant revolved, offering a 360 view of the bustling city. Dinner went as I expected. We spoke excitedly about our day—correction; I spoke excitedly about our day as we dined on good food and drank perfectly mixed cocktails. I tried to ignore the unease that washed over me as Jonathan periodically scratched the back of his neck and avoided eye contact with me. I wanted to chalk his discomfort up to his height phobia, but if he could jump out of a plane, then he could eat in a slowly revolving restaurant over the city. I’d say it was Eliza’s drama, but he left his phone at the rental, and Anthony and Simone had strict instructions to contact me in case of an emergency.
“What’s bothering you, Jon?” I asked abruptly, wanting to put us both out of our misery.
