Page 51 of The Apparent Trap

“It’s very understandable.”

She nods slowly. I can tell she sees right through me, but there’s gratitude written across her expression instead of fear now. “Okay,” she finally says. “If you think that works.”

“I do.” I nod.

And then I turn back to the group before she can change her mind. I fill in everyone else on the new plan, and they’re all on board. I think Lee’s a little skeptical, but I try to ignore looking at him directly. I go into the heated changing room and put on the extra set of clothes we brought for this exercise. Carmen is taller than me, but we’re roughly the same size in clothes, so everything fits fine.

I come out and stand next to Lee as the safety guys attach the harnesses to us.

“When I asked this morning if you were dressed warmly enough,” he says, “this part of the day didn’t come up.”

“My temperature isn’t really part of your purview,” I reply without looking. He doesn’t say anything else.

“Alright, are we ready?” Herman asks, and the men who’ve been attaching the harnesses give him two thumbs-up. He eyes me and Lee. “Okay, when I say go, I want you to jump right in. The point of the exercise is to practice how you’d handle falling into a frozen lake, so there’s no moving slowly. Your body is going to want to gasp, but try not to let yourself. You want to breathe as normally as you possibly can. You want to try and avoid submerging your head. Once you’re in, we recommend staying in at least thirty seconds—since no one would be able to get out instantly—but no more than a minute or two for first-timers. Sound good?”

Good is not the word I’d use right now after listening to that speech.

I glance down at the water churning below me. I’m not someone who minds the cold, but maybe I haven’t really thought this through.

No time for that now, though. Carmen’s already standing next to Herman, asking him a few follow-up questions. Lee and I are handed two ice picks that are tethered together with a long string, and encouraged to put them around our necks.

“Are you sure about this?” Lee leans in and asks.

“You’re not asking that about yourself,” I point out, and he chuckles.

“You’ve got me there,” he says, dropping it.

“Ready? One, two, go!” Herman shouts.

I jump in and immediately have a mountain of regrets. All my nerve endings are on fire—even though I’m acutely, bone-deep cold, there’s a burning sting across every inch of my skin. My shoes and clothes are heavy, and as much as I try to not let my head go underwater, I do, and it’s like the ice that was overtaking my outside has reached in and clawed its way to my lungs. I sputter above the water and breathe deep, but I’ve lost the entire plot. My heart rate has spiked, and the faster I breathe the dizzier I feel. Adrenaline pumps through my system, and it’s like I’m frozen and sweating all at the same time.

My mind is empty except for a vision of my mom from my dream last night, that red lipstick radiant and alive. I’m begging for her to reach out to me, to calm me down. Her vibrance doesn’t make her real, though. She’s once again unreachable.

But there’s someone else shaking me, wrapping his hand around my waist. “Ezzie,” I can hear Lee’s voice say. He’s grabbed a life preserver someone else has thrown in and moves my arms onto it. “Breathe, Ezzie. Look at me.”

I open my eyes, and he’s watching, intent. He inhales slowly, nodding me on like he wants me to do it with him. I follow his breathing, his eyes like a steadying horizon on choppy water. I can feel my heart rate going down. I can feel the burning turning into a cold ache, clarity overtaking the panic, alertness pushing the longing away and narrowing me into the present, where all I can see and hear and feel is Lee. He’s reachable.

“You’re . . . touching me,” I finally say, suddenly acutely aware that his hand hasn’t left my waist even as I’m safely floating with the life preserver.

“Yeah, that rule went out the window the minute I thought you were gonna fucking drown from panicking,” he says, his voice low and firm.

I want so badly to take the excuse to touch him. To let the cold and the shock allow me to get warmth from pressing my lips to his, from pulling my body flush to him.

But he’s not giving me a chance to let that fantasy slip into reality. He’s pulled me close enough to the edge where the safety guys are already hauling me out. I catch a glimpse of Lee to the side—he’s using the ice picks to pull himself up and out of the water. It’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen, a feat of upper body strength I know will be another running theme of future dreams.

It also makes me distinctly aware of how ridiculous I must look. His polar opposite. A beached sea creature being tugged ashore. Mortifying.

But before I can dwell on that, he’s already at my side, pulling me to my feet.

“What are you doing?” I hiss.

“Get in the changing room,” he says.

The cold must really be making me loopy because I quip, “You know, if you were trying to see me naked—”

“What I need to see,” he replies, not having any of it, “is you breathing normally and not at risk for hypothermia.” He practically shoves me in the room and closes the door.

I peel off the wet clothes and change back into my dry ones. I’m not sure anything has ever felt quite as good (I’d say it feels better than sex, but it’s been a while, so maybe I’m no longer qualified to have an opinion).