Page 27 of Hey Girl
People strap springy tethers to themselves, throw themselves off a bridge, and cheat death by getting yoinked back up in the air before their body meets the water. They then proceed to boing a few times until the momentum wanes.
I’ve always wanted to try this. The videos I’ve watched have made it look so freeing and such an amazing rush.
“Don’t worry, Mouse,” Chris assures me when he yanks my door open. How’d he get over there? “I’ve reserved the whole place for this timeslot so there will be no other jumpers but us.”
My head tilts up suddenly to regard the grin he gives me, too shell shocked to worry about him taking my hand again and helping me out of the car.
“There’s no one else here?”
“Just a couple of employees, because we need help getting strapped up, of course.” He lightly swings our hands between us. “I mean, I could try to do it myself…” He raises an eyebrow at me, and I know immediately he’s joking.
Though, dang, the idea of being strapped up by this fine ass man…
“No,” I vigorously shake my head anyway, but try to offer up a smile. The least I can do, when he’s trying so hard to win me over.
“So, your daily challenge, my sweet Rebecca, is to allow a stranger to get you harnessed, since that’s the one thing we are doing that’s out of your comfort zone.”
I’m pretty sure leaping off a freaking bridge is out of my comfort zone, bucket list or not.
I never thoughtI’d be leaning on a person for help through one of my challenging situations, but here I am, squeezing the ever-loving shit out of Chris’s hands as the jump instructor slips a harness on me and secures it around my body. My eyes squeeze tightly shut, and I’m focusing on breathing when Chris’s voice brings me out of it.
“Okay, it’s over.”
I squint open one eye and then the other before letting out a decompressing breath.
Whew.
“The hard part’s over,” he assures me, and I’m surprised to find I don’t flinch when he brings his hands up to my face to remove my glasses and hand them off to the instructor.
Right, wouldn’t want to lose those.
“Now for the fun part,” he gathers me close, and this time I do stiffen and try to pull away when I feel resistance and notice a couple of the carabiners clinking between us.
“Wha-?”
We’re harnessed together.
We. Are Harnessed. Together.
Oh, shit.
“Um…,” I start to mutter aimlessly, before reality starts to wrap around me, one loop at a time. This guy has carried me tobed and kissed me, not to mention held my hand in the car, and again while a stranger strapped me up in a non-kinky way.
“I’ve done this at least fourteen times,” he explains, noting my questioning gesture at our attached harnesses. “But never with a snuggle partner. Come on, there has to be a first in here for me too, right? Or it doesn’t count.”
His arms come over the top of my shoulders, holding me secure, and I get a whiff of his musk that smells like fresh ocean water with a hint of sunblock. Huh. He wears sunblock. How oddly reassuring that he’s smart and responsible enough to use it. Good man.
Hesitantly, I bring my arms up around his body, letting them circle his waist. My hands fumble against the cotton of his t-shirt as I’m not sure where to put them.
“Grip on as tight as you like with those little mouse claws,” I feel the warm breath of his words ruffling the hair on top of my head and I can’t help a small, breathy giggle at the visual of a mouse clinging to the back of his t-shirt.
I vaguely hear the voice of the instructor counting down as if from the other side of a wind tunnel before I feel mine and Chris’s bodies tilting sideways as one.
And then I feel it.
The plunging drop, my stomach doing flips on its way down to my toes, the wind whipping my hair. Exhilaration shuttles up my body as we plunge downward, careening together.
My heart is threatening to explode out of my chest… in a fit of glee. Not panic. Not terror.