Page 69 of Runaway Bride and Prejudice

Wave claps his hands. “Well, if you’re not going to hurl, we can go ahead and get started,” he says.

He explains how the harnesses hook to the cables, the way we’ll end up at the platform we can see in the distance. Across from the gator pond. I try not to watch one of the alligators swimming below, its whole body motionless save for the powerful, slow sweep of its tail through the water.

I don’t know much about alligators other than to know they’re reptiles, which I avoid as a general rule, and they might look mostly lazy and slow, but they can jump out of the water and run faster than a person on land. I’ve seen enough TikTok videos to know that.

“Who’s starting off?” Wave asks, and I immediately tap Amelia on the shoulders.

“Ladies first,” I say. “Unless you’d rather follow me.”

I really don’t want to leave her on the platform alone with Wave for any length of time, so I’d prefer to send her on and hope the next employee doesn’t try hitting on her while I’m still making my way across.

“I’ll go,” Amelia says, and the next thing I know, Wave is clipping her onto the cable. She stands with her toes on the edge of the platform and glances back at me. “See you on the other side, hotshot.”

The grin she sends my way makes something clench inside my chest, reminding me of the growing pains I used to get as a kid, a deep throbbing ache just above my knees before I grew an inch almost overnight.

And then Amelia kicks off the platform and is gone, screaming happily as she goes.

I can’t help but keep one eye on the gators as I watch her go, my fingernails cutting into my palms.

“Don’t worry,” Wave says with the fakest smile I’ve ever seen. “You’ll be okay.”

Amelia tilts her head back to the sky, stretching her arms wide.

No. No, I’m actually not sure I will be okay.

And when it’s my turn and I step off the platform, hurtling toward the next station, I hardly feel the drop in my stomach.

Because inside, I was already in free fall.

Amelia licks a drip from the side of her ice cream cone. “Tell me about your sisters.”

My focus on her mouth is jarred away by the mention of my sisters. It almost feels as though they’ve been deposited on either side of Amelia. We’re strolling through the park, enjoying a post-zip line snack.

Or, as I like to think of it, a yay-we-weren’t-eaten-by-gators celebratory ice cream.

No gators attacked us, and no more employees hit on Amelia. Possibly because every time I joined her at the next platform, I glared at any male nearby, and she greeted me with a huge hug, eyes shining and smile wide.

Because she’s having a good time zip lining, I kept reminding myself.Not because of you.

Now, we’re back on the ground and have been wandering the park. It feels way too much like a legit date. Aside from thealligators, which should never be on a date. Even so, it’s the best one I’ve ever been on.

“My sisters?” Hopefully, she didn’t just see me fixated on her mouth.

“Yes,” she says. “You said you have three of them?”

“Yes. One older—Callie—and two younger, Alexandra and Greyson. Lex and Grey.”

She licks her cone again and I look down, scooping up a spoonful of vanilla because I was smart and got a cup. Less messy. Less licking involved.

“And?” Amelia says.

“And what?”

She punches me in the arm. “Tell me about them, dummy. Realize you’re talking to an only here.” When I stare blankly, she says, “As in, only child. I live vicariously through other people’s sibling stories.”

I feel slightly queasy thinking about Amelia and Coach in a big house alone. No siblings. No mom and wife. Just the two of them.

Then I think about Coach punching me in the face again if he saw me watching Amelia eating ice cream.

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