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I shift on my feet. “You should enjoy your last go. Who knows when you’ll be back.”
“Oh, I’ll be back. I can’t stay away too long.”
I refrain from pointing out that, far as I’m aware, the last time he was here was four whole years ago.
“Chop chop, y’all,” the worker chimes in.
“Fine, let’s do it.” I clasp my hands together. “So how should we… how do we…?”
“You get in the slide first, and I’ll sit behind you.”
I follow Ethan’s instructions, sitting with my legs out in front of me in the cool water. Goosebumps race up my body and I realize how cold I am now that it’s the end of the day.
But the chill doesn’t last long, because soon, Ethan’s chest is pressed against my back and his legs are stretching out on either side of mine. There is so much contact, so much bare skin to skin that I stiffen automatically. I’m the filling in an Ethan taco and I don’t hate it. Not one bit.
I barely register what’s happening past the feeling of him against me. But suddenly, we’re moving forward, Ethan’s strong legs pressing against mine…
And then, we’re sliding.
And I’m screaming bloody murder while the slide drops away beneath me. Ethan and I hurtle into thin air and I grasp for his hands around my waist, clawing at him.
After what feels like an eternity of terrifying, heart-wrenching freefall, the ground catches us again and we’re shooting forward along the base of the slide. I’m still screaming, but silently because I have no breath left.
We come to a stop, and I’m frozen. My heart bangs against my ribcage and my blood pounds out a beat that could rival any rock n’ roll drum solo.
Eventually, I hear it. Hear the laughter.
Ethan is cracking up. Cackling away behind me. His chest shakes and his abs flex against the base of my spine. I sit straight as a board and turn to face him, chock-full of… anger, or laughter, or fear, or delirium. Maybe all of the above.
“What?” I basically shout.
He continues to laugh, his hands still clasped loosely around my waist. “You screamed yourself hoarse.”
“I almost died!” I shout again. We’re going the anger route, apparently.
“You didn’t,” he says. “I was with you the whole time. I would never let you go, Teeny.”
There’s that tenderness again, a vulnerability and softness that sends me spiraling. His wet hair hangs over his forehead and his lips are slightly parted. His chocolate eyes are filled with sincerity as they meet mine.
Suddenly, my anger evaporates and is replaced by a sudden, almost desperate need to be closer to him.
My body’s a livewire on high voltage, every nerve crackling with electricity. It’s all I can do to fight it, not to give into the urge to fall back into him. To have his lips on mine and have him kiss me in the hungry, heady way he used to…
Then, I notice something. Ethan’s stopped laughing, too. His eyes are dark pits, and his grip around my waist tightens the slightest bit. His gaze drops to my lips for a heartbeat, and he lightly bites his bottom lip.
Oh, my gosh.
Ethan Holmes wants to kiss me.
This is all I need for my restraint to fly right out the window.
Ethan and I move in tandem, like some unconscious dance. His big hands spread around my waist and pull me towards him. I’m leaning in closer, my hands grasping his shoulders.
We’re so close now, a breath away, and—
“Park’s closed!!”
The voice tears through the air, bursting our bubble.
