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And get it over with.
She gives me a little clap and a quick peck. I’d rather linger and go in for seconds, but she’s already approaching the guy wearing the polo shirt with the adventure company’s logo. “Hi, we’re your ten a.m. appointment.”
“Harlow?” he asks, checking his clipboard. Then he glances my way and does a double take. “Mr. Weston. Wow. Hi. I’m such a fan.”
Pasting on a smile, I hold out my hand and make small talk. Out of the corner of my eye I see Harlow gathering supplies from her backpack.
Finally, our guide, Matt, straps us in hip to hip, facing each other. Harlow taps her thumbs over her phone like a maniac. “I’m just going to record your responses and I’ll calculate the results later. Nervous?”
“A little.” Okay, way more than that. I’m starting to sweat. I’m definitely having second thoughts. I wish like hell this was over with and I wasn’t having visions of snapping cables as we fall to our deaths. But I’ve never been a coward and I won’t start now. “Have you done this before?”
“Yeah. A couple of times. It’s a lot of fun.”
Dangling from a wire hundreds of feet from solid ground while whizzing toward another post I can see myself face-planting into? “Yeah, a blast.”
Chuckling, she secures her phone to an armband built to hold the device, then withdraws a booklet she’d rolled up and curled inside her bra. When she flips to the first page, I gape at her. “This is a real assessment, not just you trying to take a swag at my situation while we fly down the mountain?”
“Of course.” Harlow looks baffled. “Why would I waste your time?”
Matt approaches, checks a few harnesses and leads, then asks us how we’re feeling.
“Great!” She sounds downright chipper.
I, on the other hand, wonder if I can keep myself from vomiting. “Do I have to answer that?”
They both laugh.
“You’ll do great,” the guide vows.
I’m less convinced but short of chickening out and ruining whatever Harlow has planned, there’s not much I can do. “Thanks.”
Matt steps back. “Give me a thumbs-up when you’re ready, then I’ll release you.”
Daredevil Harlow sticks her thumb out immediately. No hesitation, just a confident enthusiasm I envy. Then they both turn to look at me. My heart is drumming. I’m definitely feeling overheated again. A touch dizzy, too.
Still, the sooner we start, the sooner we finish. So I manage to clench my fist and raise my thumb. With a wild shout, the guide lets go of the rope he’s been holding. We start to roll down the cable, and I grab on to the handle above me—as if that will do any damn good if the support above our heads snaps.
A split second later, Harlow begins asking me questions similar to those from the first assessment and gauging my replies. I’m supposed to listen and reply and keep my thoughts screwed on straight while I’m racing down the side of a massive crater, leaves whipping past my face, my stomach knotting? Right… I’ll attempt to keep my head screwed on straight, but it’s hard when breathing isn’t coming easy, my heartbeat is frantic, and my brain seems focused on fear.
“Noah?” she prompts.
I manage to answer, but as my anxiety flares, my brain slows on all functions that aren’t related to curbing my freak out.
“Look at me.” She hooks her leg around mine and gives me a reassuring smile. “These guys are top rated. The worst that can happen is that you’re too anxious of heights to finish the assessment successfully, then we’ll have to come back and try again.”
That sounds terrible. “Keep going.”
It takes us about six trips down the mountain and a whole lot of will to keep myself together before we finish. My ability to speak didn’t seize up entirely but it felt close at times. Only her voice, her encouragement to keep breathing and her focusing me on the moment helped me to stay on top of the worry. If not for her, I’m almost sure I would have seized up.
As we unpack ourselves from the harness for the last time, I grab her and hold her like a lifeline, burying my head in her neck. Instantly, she wraps her arms around me and I feel comforted. Soothed.
She kisses my temple. “You okay, big guy?”
I nod. “I’ll make it. I think.”
“Good to hear. You take care of Matt, and I’ll get our gear together and loaded in the car. We can find a nice picnic spot and eat.”
Reluctantly, I let her go and I toss her the keys. Harlow catches them with one hand and starts shoving water bottles and her test booklets into her backpack. She’s not doing anything particularly interesting, but I can’t take my eyes off of her.
