Page 63 of It's in the Contract
I turn back to Zeke and look into his brown eyes. He’s so beautiful . . . how does he not realize it? Why does he keep to himself and not get out there and make real friends?
“Okay,” I find myself saying.
Zeke puts an arm around my shoulders. “Is that all right?” He’s a little breathless.
I can only nod, and we walk, exiting the elevator. Zeke follows my lead. I take it slow, one trembling step at a time. I know I’m a wreck. I know this is silly. But I can’t reason away this fear.
Once we’re out of the elevator, we walk up a spiraling ramp that leads us even higher. People crowd the walkway, posing for pictures and taking in the view. Sweat drips down my neck, and I want to take off my coat, but I also don’t want to let go of Zeke.
“You smell so nice,” I say. With his arm around my shoulders holding me close, I feel relatively safe, tucked into his body. I breathe in his smell—cinnamon and cedar. “Are you wearing Eternity by Calvin Klein?”
Zeke chuckles. “No, I’m not.”
I don’t look out the glass walls. I focus on Zeke’s arm across my shoulders. He pulls me in tight to him, and it’s almost involuntary when I snuggle in deeper.
I can’t—I can’t—I can’t?—
Zeke puts his other arm around me and pulls me in close. I am completely enveloped by him. I bury my face in his chest, and he leads me forward. I probably look like a complete idiot, but I don’t care.
Zeke stops. “Callie,” he breathes.
I don’t dare lift my head. “Yes?” I whisper.
“You did it. You’re at the top.”
I grip him tighter, my arms around his broad back. There’s a part of me that’s not completely enshrouded by fear that screams,What are you doing? He’s not for you!And there’s another very tiny part that says,This is right. This is where you belong.
We stand there, letting the crowd flow around us. Finally, I work up the courage to lift my head, just a tad, and take a peek.
First, I focus on the eclectic group of people inside. There are groups of hipster types with beanies and tattoos, to-go coffees in hand. Stressed moms and dads are trying and failing to keep track of wild little ones, forcing them to sit still for pictures using bribes of Goldfish crackers and fruit snacks. Groups of teenagers pose for selfies.
The building itself is a circular room with walls. People press up against the glass, exclaiming over the view. Even thefloorclosest to the walls is made of glass.
My breathing speeds up. “Don’t let go of me.”
Zeke grips me tighter in response.
I get the courage to glance out the window. It’s a good distance away since Zeke thoughtfully led us to the center of the circle, but I can see the pointed silvery skyscrapers of the Seattle skyline. I’ve lived here my whole life, and I’ve never seen them like this. The Ferris wheel by the bay turns in a slow circle, and the shining waters of the Puget Sound glitter. The coastline is vibrant green and blue.
“It’s . . . it’s beautiful.” Zeke trails off, still crushing me to his chest. I don’t want him to stop.
“Wow,” I say, breathless.
“Callie,” Zeke says. “Thank you. This is incredible.”
I’m surprised at how my panic is receding, the intense fear lessening. But I still let Zeke hold me, and it feels amazing.
Oh no.
What is happening to me?
“I—” Zeke starts. “I want to give you something.”
“Zeke, you don’t need?—”
“Shhh.” He rests his head on top of mine, and it’s my undoing. I melt into his arms.
“Let me finish,” Zeke says. “You’ve braved spiders and heights for me. You’ve shown me so much of your world. Will you please let me show you some of mine?”
