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I tuck all the revelations to the back of my mind and focus on the present. Jason can’t know I figured it out. I need to act like before.
I stare between him and the trampoline. “No?”
“Come on. Dancing and jumping were your side hustle.”
That's the thing. I don't think they speak of me anymore, and I have zero confidence about my ability to do it. However, I already promised the girls, and I'll do whatever it takes to make up for the past.
So what if I fall and break my neck?
Dramatic much, Reina?
I abandon my notepad and hop up onto the trampoline.
Jason stands there with both his arms stretched out in front of him.
I start doing minor jumps I’ve practiced so far. It’s easy on the trampoline since it pulls me back down.
I do a major jump and flip in the air then return to the trampoline.
A rush of adrenaline tightens my stomach. There’s something amazing about floating in the air; those seconds are…freedom.
Maybe that’s why Old Reina stuck with cheerleading after high school.
“Now come over,” Jason prompts.
I take several deep breaths, still jumping on the trampoline. I can’t trust him with my life, especially after what I just unraveled.
However, if I refuse to, he’ll grow suspicious.
So I close my eyes and jump in his direction, flipping in the air.
Strong arms catch me in a cage-like embrace. I squeal. “I did it!”
Wait, Jason was wearing a T-shirt—how come he's now…naked?
I open my eyes, and all words catch in my throat. The eyes looking down at me aren’t Jason’s brown ones; they’re deep green. Like an ocean, they pull me in and push me out.
For a moment, I'm glad my heart is actually trapped by a ribcage and won’t jump out of my chest.
A tremor rushes through my limbs, and I’m not sure if it’s because of the adrenaline wave or the feel of Asher’s arms around my waist.
He caught me.
I search for Jason. He stands by the side, rubbing the back of his neck and appearing uncomfortable.
Did Asher push him out of the way or something?
“You can go, Jason.” Asher is speaking to him, but his entire attention remains on me.
Like he doesn’t want to look away.
Or can’t.
“No.” I’m surprised my tone is level. “Jason and I are practicing.”
“You're practicing with me now.”
“Pass.” I try to push off Asher, but his grip tightens around my waist until it's almost painful.
