Page 6 of Head Over Wheels
I slowly open one eye when nothing further happens, and, seeing everything still the same, I open both and let out the breath I’ve been holding. “I feel like that’s the kind of thing we should report over the intercom.”
“Agreed. I’m just not sure we should get up to do it in case the elevator starts moving suddenly.” Jace is looking at the panel that’s just out of our reach while we’re sitting.
“We can give it a few minutes and see if anything else happens?”
“Good plan.”
We’re quietly waiting for the worst to happen, and I realize I’m still clutching his hand. And if I’m going to plunge to my death in the next few minutes, I’d like to remember how big and strong his hand feels. His fingers are warm, and he’s holding my hand in such a way that projects protection and safety. Which is utterly ridiculous as it isn’t going to help anything if we do suddenly go down in a fiery crash. But yeah, still not letting go. He takes care of it for me, by gently withdrawing his hand and standing.
“Okay, I think it’s safe to get up.” He moves to the panel, and as he presses the button, the elevator suddenly plunges.
“Oh, no!”
“Ugh!”
We both cry out simultaneously and Jace is thrown over to my side of the elevator. The car stops its movement as suddenly as it started, and my heart is beating out of my chest. Partly from fear and partly because in all the kerfuffle, Jace fell down and is partly on top of me. I know now is definitely not the time, but wow, does he smell good. Like fresh, crisp sheets on a sunny Sunday morning…is that even a thing? I don’t know, but that’s what’s going through my head right now.
“Are you okay?” I ask quietly, his head and upper body lying across my legs.
He lifts his head, and I can see him mentally checking everything out before he answers. “Yeah, I think I am. Sorry about that. Are you okay? I didn’t hurt you, did I?”
He pulls himself up to sit, and I jiggle my legs to test them out. “Nah, everything feels fine. I can’t say the same for my heart though.” My hand rests on my chest as I wait for it to slow.
Jace is sitting right beside me. “Now we really need to alert the maintenance people, but I can’t say I’m looking forward to standing up in here again.”
“It’s my turn, I’ll risk it.” I place my hands on the floor and start to push myself up, but he grabs my shoulder to stop me.
“Nah, I’ll do it. But let’s give it some time to make sure it’s settled.”
“Oh my gosh, our cell phones! Why didn’t we think of that?”
“Do you think we have a signal? Usually the reception is crap in an elevator.” Jace pulls his phone out of his pocket and looks down.
I reach into my jacket pocket and pull out my own, and after a quick look I see that he’s right. “No signal, you’re right.”
“Me neither.” He shrugs and sticks his phone back in his jeans. He’s looking around the elevator, lips pursed.
My mind starts to wander, and I wonder if the next time the elevator moves it will plunge right down. Did I tell my parents I love them the last time we spoke? I can’t remember, and now it may be too late. There’s moisture on my cheek, and I realize that a tear has escaped.
Jace notices my mood change and puts his arm around me. “I know we’ve just met, but I promise you, we’re going to be okay. Just a little longer and the rescue team will be here.”
There’s a loud clunking noise, and our eyes meet. His arm tightens around me, and I snuggle into his chest. Are we about to go down?
“Jace, if this is it, and you make it out of here but I don’t, tell my parents I love them, okay?” Another tear escapes and I’m looking at the ground, waiting for what comes next.
“You got it, Ella.”
Before he can say any more, the panel above us moves. Both of us are staring at it, hoping that it’s our salvation.
“Hello!” My voice rings out—louder than I expected, but I want to make sure that whoever is on the other side of the panel knows that we’re down here.
“Hello, just be patient for another moment, please. We’ll get you out shortly,” a muffled male voice replies.
I look over at Jace, and his eyes are transfixed on the ceiling panel. His profile is striking, all sharp cheekbones and perfect nose, and those lips that look like they belong on a lip balm commercial. A clang makes me look up, and I see the panel move fully out of the way. A head pops up, and all I notice is dark hair and a mustache, but it’s the best thing I’ve ever seen. Which is saying a lot given what I was just looking at.
“You both okay?” he calls down to us.
“Yes, we’re okay. Very grateful you’re getting us out of here,” I answer for both of us and wipe my cheeks to make sure there aren’t any remaining tears.