Page 109 of The Art of Exiley

“Your hips, while lovely, are not relevant to your descent.”

“Was this plan all just a plot to kill me? Because there is no way I’ll make it down that alive.” I say this in jest, but I don’t fail to recognize that it wouldn’t be a bad way to take care of the girl that Rafe now has incontrovertible evidence is connected to the enemy.

He moves closer behind me, and his breath tickles my neck as hewhispers into my ear, “If I wanted you dead, I would have found a much more delicious way to kill you.”

It’s official. I must be broken because a death threat should not make my breath catch.

Rafe tugs me around to face him, looks directly into my eyes, and says, “You can absolutely do this. This is no different from walking down stairs, and you walk down stairs all the time.”

“Most staircases won’t kill me if I fall.”

“When was the last time you fell on a staircase? The only danger is in your head. And if you do slip, I have excellent reflexes.” He winks.

I look back toward the trail. I may not frequently fall down the stairs, but most stairs aren’t liable to crumble beneath my feet either.

My mouth is dry. “Rafe, I’m really not sure I can do this.”

“You really don’t have a choice.” His momentary support has reached its limit. Now there is an impatient edge to his voice. “Did you think sneaking off a secret island was going to be easy? I watched you flip your hover off a nearly five-foot railing yesterday; you can manage some stairs.”

“You go first.”

He makes his way down the ledge, and I have no choice but to follow. For the first few dozen steps, as long as I stare at Rafe’s back and don’t dare look anywhere else, I’m fine. But over time the steps become less even, and we have to scramble instead of walking upright.

“Why are we doing this again?” I ask when my knees and calves start to burn from the angle of our descent. The wind whips my hair into my face and steals the words from my mouth.

“It’s the only safe way to get off Arcadia other than the Atlas.”

“You call thissafe?” I concentrate on making my feet follow his feet. If I just do what he does, I’ll be fine.

“And it’s fun.”

“Painful and terrifying is really not my idea of fun,” I grumble.

“Oh, come on, it’s not that bad. We need to launch the boat at the right time to avoid being seen by the Guard on watch. Stop complaining and keep up.”

“You do realize you are stronger, have longer legs, and are in impossibly better shape than me?” As if to prove the point, I slip on a loose stone. Rafe instantly grabs my arm, stabilizing me. “Keeping up is a tall order.”

“As usual, you’re setting far-too-low standards for yourself.”

“Or you’re holding me to an impossible standard.” I shake off his arm and keep trudging down.

“I’m pushing you to be your best.”

“Sorry if me not being a professional mountain climber means that I’m somehow not good enough for you, but news flash, this is me, mediocre and fine with it.”

He laughs. “I think I’ve made it clear that you are more than good enough for me.”

“I have never once confused your willingness to jump into bed with me as respect.” I wipe the sweat from my eyes with my sleeve.

“You’re right. I couldn’t possibly respect anyone who is mediocre and fine with it.”

“You’re obnoxious,” I say to his back.

“Or just correct about your capabilities?” He’s stopped walking, and when I look up, I see the beach.

I rush down the last few steps and run toward the water, my arms outstretched. All my muscles are burning, and I’m covered in sweat and dirt, but I did it. And it feels pretty gravdamn good.

Okay, and it was even a little fun.

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