Page 43 of When It's Us
The woman, Tammy, I think her name is, gives Hutch time to get to where he’s going. Minutes later, a voice comes over the radio clipped to her shoulder, letting her know they’re ready for another rider. She turns to me with a smile and after getting me outfitted in the safety harness, she hooks me to the zip-line. My legs feel weak and my arms shake as I reach up to grasp the metal.
“Ready?” she asks.
I nod, blowing out an anxious breath, and then I’m off with a nervous screech and my eyes clamped shut.
Holy shit, I’d done it. I’d actually done it. Well, most of it. I’d faced nine zip lines and two suspension bridges and am on my second and final descent section. This one will finally take me to the ground, and I am buzzing with adrenaline.
I don’t hesitate when the final guide tells me to take a step backward off the platform. Okay, I hesitate a bit, but it’s nothing compared to the times before.
The swoop of my stomach flying into my throat iselectric. My feet drop out from under me and my whole body lights up like alive wire. My heart still pounds, but it’s not from fear—it’s from sheer exhilaration. Idid it. And holy shit, it feelsamazing.
A holler rises from the ground below, and when I glance down, I spot Hutch—arms in the air, fists pumping like I took gold in the damn Olympics.
A grin cracks across my face before I can stop it. He’s beaming up at me, pride practically radiating off him, and I feel like a little kid showing off that I finally learned to ride my bike without training wheels.
It’s ridiculous, I know. Hutch isn’t my dad, and I’m not six. But still, the feeling sticks—I did this. For me. Not because someone else wanted me to. Not because it was on a checklist. But because I wanted to prove to myself that I could.
And I didn’t back down. I didn’t make an excuse. I didn’t fail.
When my feet finally touch down—kicking up a puff of dry dirt—a cheer rises around me. I turn and realize that half the group from the top stayed to watch me finish. I spin around and smack right into Hutch’s chest.
His arms close around me, solid and warm, crushing me to him in a full-body bear hug that makes me laugh out loud. Then he lifts me off the ground, my toes dragging in the dirt as he spins me once.
“You made that zipline yourbitch,” he says, grinning like an idiot as he holds up a hand for a high five.
I slap it and don’t resist when he pulls me back into another hug.
“How do you feel?”
I shake my head, still trying to catch my breath. “Shaky and overwhelmed, but in the best way.”
“You crushed it. Nice job,” he says, and when he holds me against him, it takes my breath away.
“Thank you,” I murmur against his shoulder, feeling suddenly choked up. I blink a couple of times and sniff, willing myself not to cry. I feel amazing, and the emotion running through me is atan all-time high. Still, I’m not a crier, and the feeling is foreign. Luckily, no one seems to notice, and I’m grateful for that.
The guide steps forward to help me out of the harness and I crouch down to retie my shoe that must have come untied while I was zooming around the tree tops.
When I stand back up, Hutch grins at me. “You hungry?”
I nod quickly, still smiling. Something about all that adrenaline makes you work up an appetite. “Hell yes,” I tell him.
“Alright, then. Let’s get you down the mountain. There’s a bit of a hike. Your feet okay?
I wiggle my toes in my now ruined Adidas. There’s a bit of pain on the blisters, but it’s nothing I can’t handle, a bit of pressure. “Yeah, I’m good,” I tell him with a nod.
“Good,” he says, then slings an arm around my shoulders, shaking me a bit. “Come on, badass. Let’s eat.”
I chuckle, and he lets his hand drop away, our arms brushing as we walk side by side.
One of the people in our group says something to Hutch that makes him turn to her with a laugh. I might not feel like a badass most of the time, but as I look back over my shoulder at the course I completed, I realize that right now, I feel pretty damn close.
Ginger
Whilehikingbacktothe car this afternoon, Hutch offered me a piggyback ride. I refused—because I’m a grown-ass woman and can walk, thank you very much. But after a few minutes of relentless teasing, I’d finally jabbed a finger into his chest and said one word:veto. That shut him up.And then I spent the next twenty minutes tryingveryhard not to imagine how good he’d feel between my thighs with my legs wrapped around him.
I know. Pathetic.
We spent most of the day driving, making a few pit stops along the way. At one point, we stumbled across a taco truck, and Hutch—true to form—ordered way too much food. Tacos fordays. Then, like the absolute menace he is, he ducked into a convenience store and came back out with margarita mix and a fifth of tequila.
