Page 38 of Whiskey Splash

My stomach is churning with centipedes.

It was one thing to put on this helmet and harness and indulge Desmond. It’s another to take a step off the top of a five-story tower and be free falling.

“Hey,” Desmond’s voice is soft, suddenly right next to me.

He cups my chin again, tilting me up to him, so I’m no longer staring at my feet. His thumb hits the edge of my mouth, and those gold eyes release butterflies in my stomach along with the centipedes. His gaze is serious, and not full of playful flirtation, just a soft kindness.

“You don’t have to do this if you really don’t want to,” he says, stroking my cheek, the rough of his thumb a tingle of excitement dancing along my skin. “Whatever’s going on in your head right now,that’sa lot scarier than the real thing. It’s not real. None of those things are going to happen. Your brain is just psyching you out.”

“It has a habit of doing that,” I say quietly, fixed on his eyes. The confidence in his gaze is intoxicating.

“It does that to us all.” His thumb brushes my lip, making me shudder at its tickling sensitivity, reminding me of the excitement of that kiss in the car.

Unexpected.

Full of possibility.

Can I actually do this?

“It’s just one small step,” he says calmly. “One step, and you show your fear who’s boss.”

I take several deep breaths to soothe my spidering nerves, trying to hold onto his confidence, his assurance, his certainty that this will be fun and not terrifying.

“I’ll be here right next to you the whole time,” he assures. “Okay? You step off first and I’ll be right behind you.”

I nod without saying anything, leaning slightly into the warmth of his touch, before stepping to the side and walking up to the red line. This is crazy and insane, and I have to take several deep breaths just to keep me this close to the edge. I peek over the ledge and the drop is several hundred feet into the lush emerald canopy, the leaves swaying in the gentle ocean breeze—deceptively calm. Don’t look down! Don’t look down! My heart starts to ratchet. In the name of all that is holy—

Don’t.

Look.

Down!

I jerk my face up to the sky, where the sun warms my cheeks. It’s nothing but clear sky above, open and full of endless possibility. You decide who you are one tiny step at a time. Start living, Esme! Your sister would be halfway down the line by now. Who are you going to be?

I reach out for Desmond’s hand again and he’s right there next to me. He grabs my fingers, holding them firmly, making sure I know I’m not alone.

“We don’t have to do this,” he says, reassuring me. “I’m not going to force you to do anything you don’t want.”

I let go of him and step off.

Step into faith and hope—

Praying I’ve made the right decision.

A hoot echoes behind me, but my stomach jams into my throat as I free fall and I drop like a rock. Panic wicks to my every extremity as I grab the umbilical strap, clutching desperately, my breath trapped behind that lump in my jugular!

Oh God, I’m headed to meet my maker—

Only, the snap of the line yanks taught and my weight is caught by the seat of the harness, swinging me in a teeter-tottering motion as the zipline shoots me forward.

I’m not falling.

I’m not plummeting.

I’m not reeling out of control into the rocky abyss. I’m—

Flying.

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