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“Wehave somewhere to be,” he corrects.
“Where?” I ask, this being the first time he’s mentioned any real plans.
“It’s a surprise.” He smiles at me and another whoosh runs through me.
“I hate surprises,” I inform him, mainly because it’s true.
“Something I knew about you already.” He nods.
“And yet you planned a surprise anyway?” I question, looking up from the contents of my bag to him.
“I like to go against the grain.” His smile spreads and try as I may, I can’t fight my own from spreading across my lips too. “Now, how long do you think it will take you to get ready?” he repeats his earlier question.
“I don’t know.” I shrug. “Twenty minutes.”
“Perfect.” He nods, passing by me to retrieve his bag from the opposite side of the bed. “Wear something comfortable. Shorts or jeans. Tennis shoes for sure.”
“Okay.” I eye him warily, wondering what on earth he has up his sleeve.
After the way he went to bed last night I wasn’t sure what I’d wake up to this morning. I’m happy to see that whatever happened after that kiss seems to have passed, but now I’m even more anxious than I was before. Mainly because all I can think about is kissing him again and that is so not good.
Within two minutes he’s already slipped on a pair of jeans and a plain gray tee, looking like a million dollars with next to no effort while I’m still trying to decide what the hell to wear.
“You’re down to eighteen minutes,” he says, stopping right next to me. His deodorant or cologne or a combination of the two instantly washes over me and I find myself closing my eyes for the briefest moment while I breathe him in.
God he smells so good.
“Seventeen,” he says, standing much closer now.
My eyes snap open and I suck in a sharp breath from his sudden nearness.
“Well I can’t get ready with you standing in my face,” I spit out, proud of myself for holding my crap together.
“Sixteen and a half.” He grins, dropping a light kiss to my temple before quickly stepping into the bathroom.
My god this man…
Whiplash doesn’t even begin to cover the way his behavior is making me feel. Hot, cold, hot, cold. And to think, I’ve got nearly three more weeks of this before we’re scheduled to go home.
And what’s even worse, just the thought of leaving makes me want to curl into a ball and sob uncontrollably. I’m nowhere close to ready to go home. Honestly, I don’t know if I ever will be.
****
“I don’t think I can do this.” Looking up at Kane, I’m fearful I might lose the contents of my stomach at any moment.
“Come on, Elara. You said you’ve always wanted to try it,” he reminds me, gesturing to the small plane to our right.
“Did. Did want to try it. As in don’t anymore.”
“You’re just nervous. Come on, it’s going to be incredible,” he assures me, turning toward our instructor for the day without giving me a chance to say more.
After nearly an hour of instruction and watching a short video which–thank god–was available in English, we both suited up and climbed aboard a small plane with two other divers who would be doing tandem jumps with us.
The whole time I kept telling myself there was no way Kane would go through with this. In my mind I kept envisioning Kam who would always talk me out of doing anything even remotely dangerous. But as I’ve come to realize very clearly over the last few days, Kane is not like Kam in this regard. And as the plane levels out and everything starts to unfold, I realize very quickly that he is in fact going to jump and apparently, so am I.
Kane smiles next to me, giving my hand a soft squeeze of encouragement as the instructors prepare us for our jump.
“Kane–” I start but he instantly cuts me off.
