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“Nice try,” he gloats from my side.
I shift my weight forward, gaining speed while I call out to any other vicious tree rodents, “Come and get him!”
I take the lead for the first half, but as we near the end, Logan manages to spin himself backward and flip me off the last quarter of the way.
Bastard.
He’s already disengaged by the time my feet hit the surface of the final landing.
“I hate to brag…”
“Then don’t.”
“But I won.”
“I’m well aware of that, thank you very much,” I grumble.
He walks beside me to the final track with his head held high. “Red it is.”
I’m about to tell him where he can shove that smug satisfaction when I spot a sign posted next to the railing where two crew members are waiting for us.
“Wait,” I say to Logan when we approach the jump point.
Okay, the 850 feet thing freaks me out—a lot more than I expected—but it’s that, and the depiction of two people riding a single cable which has me backpedaling.
“We’re going on the same line together?”
“Didn’t you hear George say the last line was tandem?”
“No. All I was hearing were thoughts of my victory.”
His cheek dimples. “So much for that.”
When I brave a peek over the edge of the platform, the elevation and the yawning valley below coils my stomach into knots.
“Oh-kay, yeah. That’s a big fucking nope.”
He takes my hand, stopping me from backing away. All the humor his gaze held moments ago fades to something closely resembling concern. And that can’t be right, can it?
Because sure, we’re having a little fun, but that doesn’t mean Logan still cares about me.
“Hey. It’s okay,” he says, drawing me closer.
The man and woman working the track hurriedly strap and clip us together so we’re facing each other. “We’ll be more secure this way. You’ve got nothing to worry about.”
Thousands of nerves jolt beneath my skin like angry bees in an unstable hive. The word ‘no’ deletes itself from my vocabulary when Logan bends his strong legs to sit back, stretching the tether on his harness, and taking me down with him.
The woman helps position my legs over his thighs, and like I’ve touched a live wire, my whole body jerks.
There’s no time to map out the points where our bits and pieces are rubbing because panic blares through my system when I glance up at the swaying line. “Oh, fuck. Oh, no. I can’t, Logan. I can’t do this.”
“What are you—” He’s silenced by my heels digging into his back and my fingers gripping his shoulders.
I smash my face into his neck and shriek.
“Fucking hell, woman. You did the other four with no problem,” he grunts when I squeeze his neck harder, clinging to his waist.
But it’s my trembling that has his hand gliding up and down the ridges of my spine in long, soothing strokes.
