Page 144 of Say Yes to the Nemesis
“I was thinking we could try parasailing.”
She makes a face. “You want me to strap myself to a parachute and get dragged behind a boat?”
“I want to see you fly.”
“That’s not flying, that’s controlled falling with extra steps.”
I laugh and roll us over so she’s pinned beneath me. “Come on, Rustin. Where’s your sense of adventure?”
“I left it in my other pants. The ones I’m not wearing because I packed nothing but dental floss disguised as swimwear.”
“I like the dental floss.”
She swats at my chest. “You would.”
But she doesn’t say no. She grumbles about it, makes increasingly dramatic complaints about the tiny bikini she’ll have to wear, but she doesn’t actually refuse. Because Wren’s never backed down from a challenge in her life, and she’s not about to start now.
An hour later, we’re on the beach. I’m trying not to stare as she strips off her cover-up. The bikini is barely there, just scraps of bright blue fabric that make her skin look like honey and her legs look impossibly long.
“Stop looking at me like that,” she says, but she’s smiling.
“Like what?”
“Like you want to eat me.”
“I do want to eat you.”
Her cheeks go pink and she throws her cover-up at my face. “You’re impossible.”
The parasailing instructor is a guy named Carlos who looks like he spends more time in the gym than on the water, but he knows what he’s doing. He gets us fitted with harnesses and life jackets, explains the basics, and assures Wren that she’s not going to die.
“People do this every day,” he tells her.
“People do a lot of stupid things every day,” she mutters back.
When we’re finally strapped together and the boat starts moving, I feel Wren tense against me. Her hands grip my forearms so tight, I’m going to have bruises.
“You okay?” I ask.
“Ask me when we’re back on solid ground.”
But then, we’re airborne, the parachute catching the wind and lifting us up above the water. Everything changes. Wren’s death grip on my arms loosens. Her breathing slows. When I look down at her, she’s smiling.
“Oh,” she breathes. “Oh wow.”
The view is incredible. Crystal blue water stretching to the horizon, the coastline spread out below us, the villa looking like a tiny dollhouse from this height. But I can’t stop watching Wren’s face, the way her eyes are wide with wonder.
“This is amazing,” she says.
“Yeah, it is.”
She catches me staring and grins. “You’re not even looking at the view.”
“I’m looking at the best view.”
She rolls her eyes but she’s still smiling. When a gust of wind makes us spin slightly, she laughs and throws her arms up like she’s on a roller coaster.
That’s the moment I know I’m completely screwed. Watching her laugh with pure joy, her hair whipping around her face, her whole body relaxed and trusting in my arms. This isn’t just attraction anymore. This isn’t just physical.
