Page 145 of Revv

“No.”

“You don’t even know what it is.”

“Exactly. If it were something normal, you would’ve told me.”

His grin gets wider. “Shorts. And that tight running jacket you have.”

I narrow my eyes. “Which one?”

“You know exactly which fucking one.” His hands gesture vaguely at his own chest. “The one that does that whole push-your-tits-up thing. Big fan.”

“Of course you are.”

“Obviously.” His eyes flick over me before he grabs his sunglasses. “And put your hair up or braid it or something.”

I take another sip of coffee. “Anything else, stylist?”

“Yeah.” He points at me on his way toward the bathroom. “Thirty minutes, Mama. Try not to spend twenty of them talking shit.”

I stare at him. “Should I be concerned that you just gave me a dress code for my own kidnapping?”

“Twenty-nine now.”

“Ay, qué pendejo.”

He laughs, catching the pillow when I throw it at him.

By the time I’m dressed and we’re on the loaner bike, I’ve guessed everything from a hike to some ridiculous obstacle course or one of those adventure parks where people voluntarily throw themselves off platforms for fun. Revel refuses to give me anything.

It isn’t until the buildings start thinning and I spot a small airfield ahead that suspicion crawls up my spine.

Then I see the sign.

SKYDIVE MIAMI.

I tap his shoulder, and his head slowly turns toward me.

“Not a fucking chance.”

His mouth twitches behind his visor.

“Absolutely fucking not. Keep driving.”

“Mama—”

“You brought me skydiving?”

“It’s better than sitting in the motel room.”

“Okay but like, we could’ve gotten jet skis again. Or food. Could’ve even just gone to the beach. Activities where my feet remain somewhere in the general vicinity of planet fucking Earth.”

He pulls into the parking lot, kills the engine and pulls his helmet off, all entirely too calm about this.

“You jumped off that cliff with Echo.”

“Into water. Water is significantly closer to the ground than the fucking clouds.”

He parks and finally looks at me. “You scared?”