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“I said, I love this!” A wide smile beams on my face.
I’m wrapped around him so tight that I can feel every hard surface of his body pressed against me.
“I didn’t think I’d be jumping like this today,” he says, his gaze still on mine.
“I’m sorry. I’m probably messing things up for you. I—”
“You’re not.” He kisses the tip of my nose. “You couldn’t.”
A thrill runs down my spine and into my groin as I think of where his lips were last night. I wonder if he’s showered or if he still has my scent all over him. It’s hard to tell with such sensory overload.
“When we hit the water, you’re going to want to keep your knees up, and swim away from the parachute, okay?”
I nod, but we’re still seemingly miles away from the ocean, the first of the jumpers just now hitting the water with a splash.
My gaze works its way back to Brad and the same feeling I had last night comes back again. The one where I feel safe and warm, despite how I’m falling into the unknown.
“I never thought I’d see you again,” I yell, the earth quickly coming closer and closer.
Brad smiles as we barrel faster and faster toward the ocean, crashing into the water with a heavy thrust of pressure. It doesn’t hurt, but it’s alarming as water rushes up and over our heads.
My initial instinct is to panic. I’m not the strongest swimmer and I can’t touch the bottom of the water. Not only that but crashing down so violently has left me a bit distorted and I’m not sure which way is up.
Holding my breath, I do as Brad said and paddle outward immediately, soon realizing that I am swimming up as light begins to filter past my eyelids. At least I have that going for me. I break free to the surface of the water and suck in a deep breath, letting the salty air filter through my lungs.
I’ve just jumped out of a plane. I landed in the ocean. I’m alive!The reality of the situation leaves me with both a high and a tight stomach.
Glancing back, I see Brad is behind me, though he’s slowed by the weight of the chute that’s billowed down behind him. I wave toward him as though offering my help, but he gestures toward the shore, and I do as I’m told. I’m already doggy paddling to stay afloat. I’m not sure how much help I could actually be.
As I near the shore, I see maybe six or seven men standing with crossed arms as they talk to the cameraman who’s setting up his tripod. None of them seem to notice me struggling toward the shore, which is probably a good thing. If I am able to compete on the show, I don’t want them to see how weak I am. Though, as I get closer to the shoreline, Colin notices me and steps into the water, reaching out toward me as though he can see my struggles against the current.
“Sara?” He reaches his large hand down for mine, helping me up from the sand bar.
“Hey,” I say, trying my best not to sound as exhausted as I feel. My dress is soaked and hanging off me, and I’m covered in sand like a broken, cracked shell that’s washed up on shore.
“What are you doing here?” Colin asks, his chest involuntarily flexing as he crosses his arms. Why doesn’t he look so disheveled?
I comb my messy hair down and pull it to the side of my shoulder. “I’m asking myself that same question.”
“She’s with me,” Brad says, landing his hand on the small of my back. Colin looks down and away, as if the gesture makes him feel awkward, though I can’t figure why. He seemed fine at the bar last night, but I guess Brad and I weren’t as touchy then.
Brad glances toward Colin before walking away. “You keep an eye on her for me. I’ll be right back.”
I’m not sure I really need anyone to keep aneyeon me, but I appreciate the sentiment after everything the last few days has been.
Colin nods and lifts his gaze to mine. His deep brown eyes are even more attractive in the sunlight. “You won’t make it far here if you need looking after,” he says. “Have you seen the show before?”
I shake my head. “What’s the premise?”
He laughs. “You sure you want to stay? We’re talking… hunting food… physical challenges… emotional warfare… whatever it takes to win. The people here are ruthless. Forgive me, but you don’t look like the heartless type.”
I’m not sure if I should take that as a compliment or a threat, but I have a feeling Colin isn’t built for emotional warfare either. He seems like the one that would lighten everyone else up in a tense moment.
“I think I’d be okay,” I say, realizing what a lie that is as I fight with the sandy dress hanging off me.
“Is it weird if I ask you to block me for a second?” I ask. “I just want to wrap this thing around me differently. My skin is—”
“Sara?” a voice interrupts. It’s a woman, and though I’m happy to see a fellow lily pad, I wish she looked happier.
