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After thirty minutes, Jax looks up and says, “It’s going to rain.”
“What?” I move my head too far, and I groan as my hair pulls painful at my scalp. “No, I checked the weather report. It said partially cloudy but no indication of rain.”
“It was wrong.” He gives me a pointed look. “A storm is rolling in.”
By the tone in his voice, I can tell he’s not joking. Without moving my head, I look up and spot the dark clouds steadily creeping toward us. The air feels heavy with the promise of rain. Great.
“How long?” I ask.
“Soon.” He pulls the pocketknife back out. “You know, short hair is pretty too. I mean, not everyone can pull it off, but I bet you could.”
“Jax,” I say pleading.
“I got most of it out, but there’s one section that won’t come loose no matter what I do. And we have to get to the top before the rain hits. The rocks will get slippery when wet. I have to cut it.”
I moan in frustration.
“Stop bein’ a baby about it. It’s just a little hair. You have plenty more.”
“Okay,” I say mournfully. “Just do it.”
“And you won’t cut me afterward?” he asks.
“I guess not. Hurry before I change my mind.”
I hear and feel the blade cutting through my beautiful locks of hair. I whimper, but then I’m released and can stretch my cramped neck. It was aching from being stuck in one position for so long. I rub my head where it pulled the most.
Jax is watching me and trying not to laugh. I punch him.
“Hey.” He rubs his arm. “That’s the thanks I get for setting you free?”
I shrug. “I didn’t cut you, did I?”
He shrugs, accepting my non-cutting-him apology. “We better get moving before the storm hits. Come on, we’re close to the top.” He un-anchors us and starts to c
limb ahead of me.
I tuck all my hair into my top as best I can and climb after him, letting my frustration propel me.
A few minutes later, Jax has made it to the top. He stands and gazes out over the landscape.
When I’m almost to the edge, Jaxon uses those big muscles of his to reach down and pull me up the rest of the way as if I weigh nothing.
I stand up and take in the landscape like Jax had. Bad idea. I may have found a way to conquer my fear of heights when rock climbing at the gym, but the trick is to never break my number one rule: no looking down. We’re so high up. Dizzyingly high. I imagine myself falling to my death. The world seems to disappear under me, and I suck in a sharp breath. A wave of vertigo washes over me, making me nauseous and unsure of my footing. My heart races and my breaths are uneven. Jaxon grabs me and pulls me away from the edge.
“Whoa,” he says. “You were teetering there.” He examines me.
“I can’t breathe.” I work on the buckle of my helmet under my chin, my hands fumbling uselessly at it. “Get it off,” I say in between gasps.
“Okay, I’ve got it.” His voice is calm as he quickly releases the buckle and takes off the helmet. He smooths my hair from my face. “Just breathe. Come on, take deep breaths, in and out,” he says, gradually pulling me farther away from the cliff’s edge.
His blue eyes are focused on me. I stare into their depths, listening to his voice, calm and sure. Steady, like his arms holding me. I follow his instructions, breathing in and out, more slowly and deeply, over and over, until I feel in control again.
“Are you okay?” Concern is etched into Jaxon’s features.
I nod, then realize I’m holding on to Jax for dear life, and he’s holding me. I feel secure, safe. His body close to mine feels so right. I hate myself for the traitorous thoughts.
He cheated on me.
