“What kind of shenanigans do you think they’ll have for us at Windy Peak?” I ask Vi and Ember as we stuff our faces with sweet potato fries at the Underground.

Vi shudders as if reliving her own shenanigans at the aforementioned windy retreat. “Windy Peak is just a step away from the Wild Rose Trail.” Her crimson hair frames her petite facial features and sets her eyes off like twin green lanterns. Honestly, if I were as drop-dead gorgeous as Vi, I’d run around taking selfies all day long. She’s got every guy in the bar craning his neck to get a better look at her. Ember is her blonde Barbie counterpart. I wonder what Rowen would have done if he were paired up with either of them. I wonder if my heart could have taken it. Just the thought makes the pit of my stomach boil like a cauldron. I guess in that respect I’d rather it be me, but in truth, Rowen has spiked his man parts into so many of Leland’s beautiful female offerings, that at this point if it had been Vi or Ember, they would have been just another notch in his busy belt. A heated anger spikes through me at the thought of Rowen turning his crotch into a weapon to impale the masses with. Who the hell does he think he is? Other than the star quarterback with the face of a god that is. And what the hell did he do with my childhood friend? For sure he’s not the Rowen I used to know. And I really do miss the Rowen I used to know.

Ember points her fry at Vi. “What about the Wild Rose Trail?” Ember grew up down south, so she’s not as familiar with the landscape in our neck of the raunchy woods.

“It leads to Paradise Falls.” Violet nods as if Em should somehow surmise the rest.

I groan at the thought. “Its waters are laden with semen, and there are enough lace panties washing up on shore they could rival the inventory of any Victoria’s Secret.”

Ember pretends to gag. “So, you’re saying that’s the new hotspot to take my next date?”

“Very funny.” I wash my fries down with a Coke and smile. “It’s too cold to skinny-dip this time of year.” For a moment, I envision Rowen stripping off his shirt, those rippling abs, those beefy arms, those wing-like lats. I’ve paid careful attention to Rowen’s body on the field. He’s built like an oak, sure and strong. And I’ve had the pleasure of running my hands over those marble-like muscles that line his chest and back. Even over his cotton T-shirt, they felt intoxicatingly hard as granite.

“Earth to Sophie.” Vi runs her hand over my face. “Where the hell did you just go?”

Ember grunts out a laugh. “She went skinny-dipping with Rowen.”

“Would you shush?” I glance around for my brother, or God forbid Rowen himself. “I’m not thinking about him.” I hate lying to people. I can practically feel my nose shoot through the room and grow a branch off the tip. “Okay, so I may have been skinny-dipping with him, but he only got as far as taking off his shirt. Believe me, it’s a sight to behold.” I stare into nothing with a catatonic gaze. “Anyway, I may not even go. I told my sensory guide, Seth, that there was a good chance I wouldn’t show.” And then, he swiftly reminded me that it would be the end of the line with both Rowen and the social experiment, and for some reason that news has sat in my stomach like a boulder.

“You should totally go.” Vi’s eyes get wild and squirrely before she shovels in another bite of potato-fried goodness.

“She’s right,” Em chimes in. “It’s not like they’re locking you up in some dark closet—again,” she muses. “This is open air—a public establishment. What harm could it do? Besides, you mentioned you knew each other. You can catch up on old times. He’s not bad on the eyes, Soph. I can think of a thousand worse ways to pass the afternoon.”

Vi nods in this lunacy. “Do you know how many girls would kill to be in your Windy Peak shoes?”

“And if he doesn’t show…” I don’t have the energy to finish the thought.

Vi smirks. “If he doesn’t show up, forget about him. He’s a dime a dozen.” She wags a fry out at the crowd of bodies pressing their way in through the door. “There are plenty of other Cougars in the wild.”

“Why do I get the feeling I’m about to be eaten alive?” I scowl out at the Underground’s male offerings, and both Ember and Vi break out into a laugh.

Em dabs the corner of her eye with her pinkie. “Only if you’re lucky, hon. Only if you’re really lucky. I had a date with a guy from the basketball team, and the first thing he said to me was he’s not into oral—says he’s done his research and he’s not interested in having his tongue hacked off later in life.”

“Eww.” I toss a fry and peg her forehead. “I’m eating!”

“That’s because you’re better than he is.” She tosses the fry right back and it lands unceremoniously in the puddle of ketchup on my plate.

Vi reaches over and snaps it up for herself. “If a guy told me he wasn’t up for the breakfast of champions, I’d tell him to take a flying leap off Windy Peak.” Her eyes brighten my way. “Hey, maybe that’s why you’re headed there? Those freaks at the TSE want some oral on tape or they’ll send you both over the edge.”

“You’re both perverts.” I spend the next five minutes straight envisioning Rowen and me back in that dark closet, steaming the tiny cloistered room up with our bodies as his tongue lashes over every last square inch of me. “Okay, so I might be a pervert, too.”

Vi’s lips part, revealing a mouth full of fries. “You are so into him!”

“So what? It’s not like it’s ever going to amount to anything.”

Ember pulls my drink over to herself as if threatening to take a sip. “Then you’ll have to go to Windy Peak. What’s the worst that can happen?”

“I fall off a cliff?” For a second, I envision myself taking a swan dive off that jagged peak and Rowen down at the bottom catching me like those footballs he chases down the field.

“You fall in love,” Vi counters.

“Oh, hon”—Ember takes my straw and baptizes me with a face full of Coke—“she’s already there.”

“No, I’m not.”

But my face burns bright like maybe I am.

* * *

Windy Peak is a mere fifteen-minute drive from campus, pushed up against the rocky crags of the Chocolate Mountains on the north facing windy side, thus it’s blustery moniker. It sits at the foot of Laurel Lake where Mom and Dad used to take Braden and me fishing when we were still eager to explore all that nature has to offer with the folks in tow. After we buried Mom, Dad saw fit to bury himself in his work, and those fun times at the lake were all but lost.

I follow Seth’s direction to the bottom where I find my personal sensei himself as he waves and instructs me to hop into his truck for the rest of the journey. Seth drives us slowly up the mountain, and I can’t help but feel slightly kidnapped at the moment. Just as I’m about to text Vi for help, we hit the lookout where we find an RV with what looks like a production crew bustling about. We park and Seth delivers me to Emily, the girl who did my makeup both times before I was shuttled off to a dark room and forced to kiss the boy of my dreams. Wow, when I paint it that way, you’d think I stepped into a fantasy rather than the pile of greasy dog shit I’m forcing myself to believe it is. But Rowen broke my heart all those years ago when he broke Becca’s heart and that of my brother. Why he dumped her and vanished from our lives I will never understand.

Makeup consists of a quick coat of powder and some lip-gloss—and hair nothing more than having my tresses pulled into a low ponytail before having a hardhat smashed over the top of my head.

Once I’m dusted and primped to Emily’s satisfaction, Seth pops up again. “You look great!” His face brightens as what’s left of the sun turns his shiny bald head into a spotlight. “Let’s get you to the guide and go over safety instructions.”

“Safety?” My stomach bottoms out, because although the details on why I’m standing on one of the highest peaks in Moon Ridge are still a little fuzzy, the implication is becoming clear.

“You’ll be fully harnessed. We have a team of first responders ready to roll at the bottom of the cliff should anything go awry. Dexter might even show before we finish up. It’ll be a great afternoon.”

“If I survive.” Fully harnessed? An entire team of first responders? I should be bolting back to the safety of my Honda, Gertrude, whom I have affectionately named after a turtle Mindy and Rowen once had. Hey, if the conversation ever stalls, I guess there’s always Gertrude to get us back on track. Who knew my made-on-a-Friday lemon would come in handy while I’m fully immersed in hostile dating territory?

Seth gathers me up like a mother hen with her chick, leading me into the trailer for safety instructions, and my stomach drops because there are lots of ropes and chains, a harness or two, but there’s no sign of Rowen. An older gentleman with a crap ton of pulleys slung across his shoulders looms over a laptop near the kitchenette.

I glance to Seth. “So, he didn’t show?”

“He’s here.” Seth pulls out his trusty mints and rattles the box at me, but I’m quick to decline. Just the thought of tossing myself down the side of this mountain has my bowels ready to produce a volcanic blowout. The last thing I need is to turn my mouth into an icy cavern.

“He’s already gone through training.” Seth rattles the box once more and gives me that look that suggests a mint might be mandatory with the mean halitosis I’m wielding, but I know for a fact my breath is more than fine. Besides, I’d hate to give Rowen the wrong impression by blasting him with my minty freshness. The last time we both partook, we had a peppermint playdate with our tongues. “We want the first time the two of you come face to face in an open-air environment to be as natural as possible. We don’t want things like hair and makeup, or even training to get in the way of a genuine first response.”

I make a face as the older gentleman dressed like a construction worker heads into his safety spiel. Too bad I can’t seem to retain any of the information he’s jettisoning my way. All I can think about is the fact Rowen Garret showed up again, most likely to prove to his ego he’s the gentleman he’s convinced himself he is. And I’ve shown up because I’m far too stubborn to let him play the hero in this Greek tragedy, and it will be a tragedy, because after watching a brief video on people hopping their way down the face of a mountain, I still have no clue on how to arrive back on solid ground, alive with all my limbs intact.

Seth walks me to the edge of the cliff where I spot Rowen with his back turned to me. A woman has her hand up his shirt adjusting his mic, and I only know that because Seth just stuck a mini speaker down my décolleté and adjusted my own mic pack. I hate to destroy Dexter Houston’s Hollywood fantasy, but little does anyone at the TSE realize they’ve paired together two sworn enemies. Okay, so that might be a little dramatic, but I can’t help it. The icy wind blows into my face and makes my allergies pop up on cue. My eyes water and swell as if I’ve been crying for a year, and I can already predict I’ll have two muddy rivers of mascara running down my cheeks by the time I do a face-plant on the jagged rocks waiting below.

Seth gives me a little nudge those last few feet and shouts, “And we’re live in three, two, one—action!”

Shit!

Rowen turns around, his body framed against the pale autumn sky, his dark hair, those piercing eyes cutting right through me, but it’s his heartwarming smile that disarms me.

“Hello, Sophie.” His lips expand, exposing those twin rows of perfect, straight, sparkling white teeth. I have always admired Rowen and Mindy’s ode to orthodontia, only now it has my adrenaline racing, my heart palpitating to unsafe levels. Swear to God, Rowen Garret’s smile has the capability to kill, and right about now, it looks as if my body is volunteering to be the first victim of that killer smile. A tiny row of lines dig in around his eyes as he looks right at me with those pencil gray lenses, and my soul disintegrates at the sight of him.

And just like that, the butterflies I thought had absconded once my hatred for him infiltrated my heart are right back filtering through my stomach like a coven of angry bats.

“Hey, Row.” I keep it casual as the older gentleman, who tried very hard to arm me with the knowledge I would need to save my life, helps me sit near the edge of the cliff. It takes one glance at the jagged earth waiting to sink its razor-sharp teeth into my flesh for me to snap back to reality. “Oh no, no, no.” The ground appears to rise and fall as I wobble back and forth like I might pass out. Dear God. A part of me wants to hop right over the edge and get my impending doom over with.

“Whoa.” Rowen lands his arm around my shoulders and scoots in close. That heady thick cologne of his soothes my senses, and just the feel of his strong muscles draped over me like a steel coat helps get my breathing back under control. “I’ve got you.” His warm voice rumbles through me. He leans in and presses his mouth close to my ear. “I won’t let you fall, Soph. I promise.”

Those words. I lean back to get a better look at the boy who once whispered a similar phrase to me after my mother died and then broke his promise. His gaze latches onto mine, and something electric jumps between us. My stomach pinches tight in a white-hot knot just being so close to Rowen, our features fully exposed to the light. But regardless of broken promises, his words bring me an undo level of comfort. And then, just as quick as that comfort came, the violent ninety miles per hour wind that threatens to push me off this ledge takes it away. I have done a lot of foolish things in my life, but sitting on the edge of a cliff, ready to rappel to my death, has to take the deadly cake. This isn’t going to end well. Not very many things do in my life.

I glance down quickly and wince, staving off the urge to army crawl all the way back to my car.

“What the hell am I doing?” My chest bucks as I struggle to catch my breath once again. “I didn’t realize I was afraid of heights until this very moment.” I wipe tears from the corner of my eye. “God—that’s how stupid I am.”

“There’s not a stupid bone in your body, Sophie. I’m here for you. Everything will turn out all right.” Rowen tightens his grip over me as he lands a kiss to the top of my head, and I startle. Our eyes lock once again, and for a second, I’m hopeful Rowen and I will eschew rappelling for something far more heart stopping—those kisses I’ve come to look forward to. But deep down, I know that friendly graze he just offered up was more of a pity kiss, a don’t-freak-the-hell-out-and-land-us-both-in-the-ER kiss, a protective older brother kiss, and that last reality is the most depressing of them all.

The crew spurs on our guide, and a team of eight men help both Rowen and me dangle over the edge.

THE EDGE! My hands knot into a death grip over the flimsy cable that’s keeping me from meeting my maker. My entire body shakes like a dog staring down a free trip over the rainbow bridge. And honest to God, if I see my mother appear with open arms, I will find a way to eviscerate Dexter Houston and every single one of his minions before I go to the proverbial light.

Shit, shit, shit! I am going to KILL Vi. And then I’ll probably kill Ember, too, for the simple fact she was a far more willing party in this social nightmare than I ever was. And how is it possible that the two of them are most likely snug in their matching Leland jerseys while I’m staring at the pulsating ground, dangling off Windy Peak with nothing more than Silly String securing me to this blue spinning rock? I bet they’re stuffing their faces full of fries at the Underground while engaging in a heated debate over the health benefits of orgasms. Lucky bitches.

The kind, elderly guide assures us he’ll be rappelling right along with us just a mere fifteen feet to our left in the event of an emergency.

Fifteen feet? Swear to God, if he were within kicking range, his balls would be in peril. Fifteen fucking feet! How the hell is that kind of a buffer going to help when I’m busy sailing to my death with my limbs helplessly flailing like a cat trying to claw its way out of a tub?

Rowen wraps a strong arm around my waist, warming me from head to toe with the gesture, and I don’t hesitate snuggling into him, my legs wrapping around his like a vine. “I’m here, Soph. We can take our time.” He buries his lips over the top of my head and warms me with his hot breath. And in the motherfucker of all ironies, this, right here, is heaven. Why did I need to end up participating in some cliff-dangling, death-defying stunt just to find paradise with the boy of my dreams? It doesn’t seem fair. How my entire life is panning out to be a hellish nightmare is beyond me.

Rowen pulls back, and our gaze snaps together as if we were magnetized. With Rowen around, there is no earth, no sky, no cliff to see. He is all-encompassing, the only thing with value that my eyes demand to feast on.

“I got you.” His fingers dig into my waist just enough to make me buck. “We’ll go slow. It won’t hurt, I promise.”

A smile twitches on my lips, and I can’t help it. “You realize how dirty that sounds, right? Is that the script you stick to before you take the penis plunge?”

“What?” He pulls back as if I’ve just offered up a fresh slap, and our bodies sway in the breeze.

“Oh God!” I wail as I do my best to tuck my entire existence into Rowen Garret’s enormous chest.

“You’re okay.” His warm breath sears over my neck, and as nice as it feels, I still wish to God I could crawl right out of my skin and back to safety. “It’s okay, Soph. I got you. We’re going to do this, together. Remember when we used to do things together?”

“Ha!” I laugh right in his chest. Okay, so it would have had much more punch if I had laughed in his face, but it’s taking me a moment to lift my head to his. I manage to contort myself enough to look him in those beautiful eyes once again, and he unleashes that lethal smile as his arms pull me in closer than I ever thought possible. Rowen is thick and strong, and his warm body wrapped around mine like a shield feels as if everything is right—despite the fact we’re suspended midair over one of the highest peaks in Moon Ridge. “We did do a lot of things together. Like me beating you at board games.” I can’t help but give a snide grin. Beating Rowen at board games used to be the highlight of my Friday nights.

“Hey—you only beat me because you cheated.” Those irresistible dimples of his go off, and something deep down in my solar plexus both sears with heat and relaxes.

I laugh through tears, doing my best to elbow him for the dig. “I only cheated because I was trying to facilitate the game along. You were grateful, and you know it.”

The wind picks up, and a horrific wounded animal-like groan escapes me. Oh God. So not sexy. Kill me.

Rowen lands his warm palm over the back of my head, gently forcing me to look at him. “On three we rappel.” He nods as if it were more of a command than an idea. “Let go just like they told you. I’ll be right here.”

“No!” my voice shrills as I secure my death grip over him. “You said you wouldn’t let go.” I burrow into him more than either of us thought possible, establishing the fact I’m not hopping away so we can bounce down the face of this granite slab like a couple of granola crunching idiots. “I’m not leaving you, Rowen. You’re going to have to be the one to get us down, because if you don’t, the Cougars will have to find another quarterback to bounce the cheerleaders on his lap come Friday.”

“Geez.” Rowen lets out a groan—most likely because it’s true, but that expression on his face lets me know he’s slightly affronted. “Three.” And just like that, we fall ten feet to our next stop on this invisible elevator from hell with Rowen testing out the durability of the safety harness and me testing out the durability of my vocal cords. “We did it.” Rowen gives a hesitant laugh as if this news shocked even him. “We’re okay, Soph.” He’s still firmly wrapped around me, holding onto his own rope that hangs just inches from mine. The wind picks up again, threatening to end our good time and our lives. The ropes whip around the two of us and twist while doing a little dance in the breeze.

“God—we’re going to tangle our lines and free-fall to our death!” I shout so loud my voice comes back to me as an echo. “Deep down, I always felt that we belonged together—but the afterlife wasn’t exactly what I had in mind.”

Rowen pulls back and examines me with that mischievous schoolboy smile. “You really think that?” He rubs his sexy facial scruff over my cheek, and I die a little on the inside. My eyes close while enjoying the surprising hell out of this quasi-sexual moment.

“Do I think what?” I glance down, and shockingly the ground looks ten times farther than it did when we were perched on the top of this Matterhorn. Clearly I am not very good at the art of thinking. Had I thought this fiasco through, I would be laughing off the stupidity of it all while enjoying a latte back on campus.

“You think we should be together?” His finger caresses the underbelly of my chin, and our eyes snap into position like a couple of Legos.

A breath hitches in my throat, and suddenly this very surreal moment grows all too serious. God, did I just confess that? What the hell is wrong with me? First, I take up cliff diving as my new favorite pastime, and then I confess to my one and only childhood crush that we should be meshed together for the rest of our albeit short lives? I don’t really feel that way, do I?

My mouth opens, and a series of choking sounds emit. “Sorry.” My lips quiver as if tears were on the horizon. “I didn’t mean that.” I bury my face in his neck like some sort of kneejerk reaction and take in his woodsy scent, the feel of his warm skin. “You’re wearing the same cologne.” It comes out weak as I gaze up at his diamond colored eyes. It’s funny how midair suspension can debilitate that filter in your brain that prevents you from sounding like an ass twenty-four seven.

“I know.” He winces and his dimples dig in, making my ovaries implode on command. Damn Rowen Garret for looking so hot while dangling in thin air. “I’m a creature of habit. You smell good, too.” He tucks his face near my ear and gives an audible sniff. “Roses.”

“Thank you.” I back up to take in the full dimple effect he’s got going on. “It’s actually my deodorant protecting you from the body odor I’m expending profusely, but it’s nice to know it hasn’t cut out on me yet.”

A dull laugh rumbles through him as he holds me close. His fingers press in just slightly, and it sends that sweet spot between my thighs quivering for him. Vi and Em might be discussing orgasms, but I’m having one at fifteen hundred feet.

Rowen touches his nose to mine a moment, and my heart nearly jumps out to greet him. “Remember that time we took Braden’s deodorant and dipped it in white pepper?”

“Yeah”—a quick laugh bucks through me as the icy wind licks my tear-slicked face—“that was weird. By the way, I’m the one that voted for dog shit.”

“That’s because you’re twisted.” His heavy breathing warms my neck, and as close to death as we might be, I couldn’t feel giddier, more alive than ever before. Sadly, it’s a testament to my own ridiculousness that I can feel as giddy as a teen while dangling hundreds of feet from safety. His lips pull taut, but there’s something somber layered in his eyes.

“Do you still have Cake?” The question blurts from me before I can fully process it. But judging by that look in his eyes, I was terrified he was about to take us someplace dark and scary that only the past can provide.

Cake is the German Shepherd I practically grew up with while visiting the Garret household. Mindy was given the honor of naming the family pet since it was technically delivered on her birthday and since cake was basically the best thing in her world at that point in her short life, she decided on German Chocolate Cake as his yummy formal name—Cake for short. Of course, her eager-to-please parents let her get away with it. In all honesty, I think Cake was my first true love right up until my crush for Rowen came into full bloom.

“Yes.” His teeth flash like a camera. “Cake is still very much ticking. He’s slower now. He stopped chasing the girls and spends more time chasing his tail and taking long afternoon naps.” That smile of his expands. His fingers dig deep into my ribs, and my body swims with greed for more.

“And you picked up the slack,” I say as a gust of wind presses the two of us into the ice-cold granite. Rowen shields me with his goliath frame, and for a brief rather pornographic moment, I envision the two of us naked with him in this exact same position.

His chest rumbles over mine, sending a ripple of electrical jolts all the way down to my toes. “I guess you could say that. How about you? You break any hearts yet?”

“Not as fast as you’re breaking open the condoms.” God, again? What the hell am I doing having a conversation with Rowen about how often he dips his wick? “Never mind that. I just want to get back to planet Earth where I can run straight to Leland and hide under my sheets for the next sixty years.”

“They’ll kick you out of the dorm in about five.” His thumping laughter echoes through my ribcage as his feet steady against the rock ready to take us down another level. “On three.” I can feel the words strum through me as he breathes them warm in my hair.

“Three!” we both shout in unison and laugh as we coast down like a couple of lead-lined balloons. Shockingly, the ground looks as if it’s getting closer, not farther this time, and I’m thankful for small illusions.

“You want to do it again?” he pants the words heavily into my ear, and my entire body quivers with orgasmic delight. Hell, I’m probably the only person who has experienced the most coveted bodily function while filled with terror at the very same time.

“I bet you say that to all the girls.”

We share a quick laugh before the wind picks up and we lose footing from the cliff side only to swing like a pendulum for five hellish seconds.

“You’re safe,” he pants with an undercurrent of uncertainty as if I’m not. His finger lifts my chin until I’m forced to look up at him. And there they are—Rowen’s eyes. In eighth grade, I wrote a love poem to them entitled “Earl Grey”. I had to read it out loud. Everyone thought I had a morbid and slightly sexual fascination with an English breakfast tea, but it was code for Rowen Garret’s eyes.

I grab ahold of his hand and move it from my face. “Why are you doing that?” I’m suddenly irritated by his need to control me, make me look into his eyes like he’s about to sexually hypnotize me. He did that years ago. He doesn’t have to try.

“I want to see you.” His lips pull back as he quickly wipes the steady stream of tears from my eyes. “I don’t want you to be afraid, Soph. I don’t want you to cry.”

“Yeah?” I’m almost amused by this. “You should have seen me when you took off like a thief in the night three years ago. I cried buckets. Too bad you weren’t around to wipe my tears back then. But that was the point, wasn’t it? Make us suffer?”

His eyes widen, but his features harden like flint as if my words had the power to infuriate him. “I’m sorry. But I promise, I didn’t take off like a thief.”

“You were a thief.” My voice shakes with anger without meaning to. For God’s sake, it’s ancient history at this point. And I seriously doubt I would even bother bringing it up if we weren’t suspended from both the earth and reality all at once. “I don’t want to talk about this. They’re probably going to air this, you know.”

He shakes his head just enough. “I spoke to Dexter. I asked him to cut us.”

And just like that, the wound in my heart tears a little deeper. A childish part of me wanted to show the world that I could be with someone like Rowen Garret.

Rowen rubs his thumb over my cheek, soft and warm. His gaze locks onto mine. I’ve never realized how intimidating it is to look someone in the eye this close. He’s bearing into me, pouring out his soul with this wordless endeavor.

“I’m sorry, Sophie. I wish I could take back the hurt and pain I caused all those years ago.”

“But you don’t think it was your fault.” I’m not sure why I felt the need to toss in a barb. It’s obvious he’s trying to apologize. He even threw in an I’m sorry. What more do I want from the guy—other than his body, heart, and soul?

Rowen bears into me with that determined gaze. It’s telling me something, shouting into the depths of my being. I can feel the frustration exuding off him and don’t have any clue what to do with it.

“I know it wasn’t my fault, Soph.” He closes his eyes a moment. “On three.”

Rowen and I bounce down another flight of terror, this time with a little less conviction that this nightmare is going to land me with a breathing tube and an electric wheelchair.

“Only one more drop.” Rowen rests his chin on my shoulder, his heavy panting feels like an old friend at this point. “You ready to take this baby home?”

Actually, I’m not. All of a sudden I want nothing else but to hang midair forever with Rowen’s arms around my waist, his legs straddling mine because this will most likely be the last time we enjoy this tangle of limbs unless I can somehow trick him into a game of Twister like in the good old days. I used to live for the moment when Rowen collapsed on top of me. I’d laugh right along with him, but, deep down, I couldn’t wait to get to my room and whip out my diary so I could document the fact Rowen Garret jumped my bones. Yeah, I was being literal. So what? Right now, I literally want to hang here forever.

I turn to face him once again, his enormous body blocking the sky just enough for me to believe we were already on solid ground.

I sniff back the snot trying to make its way to lips. So awesome. Melted mascara, runny nose, tomato red eyes—and don’t get me started on the ponytail that went sideways and quickly morphed into a bird’s nest. I’m so glad Rowen gets to see my impression of a crack whore.

“Hey—remember that time you, Mindy, and I all drove down to Rail Road Plaza because we wanted to get froyo?”

His face flinches because it was also the day he crashed his father’s brand new BMW and we never had a bite of frozen yogurt. We were all fine. It was a fender bender—only instead of the fender getting bent, the rear crunched up like an accordion. It wasn’t Rowen’s fault, though.

“How can I forget? And believe me, I’ve tried.”

“I have one last midair confession to make.” God, stop. Don’t do this, Sophie, I plead with myself. You are going to regret this for the rest of your unnatural life. You’ll wake up in the morning and hate yourself so much that you’ll drive right back and rappel sans the proper gear and helmet. That’s how badly opening this wound is going to hurt. “I wasn’t really hungry for froyo that day.” I swallow hard as he takes me in, his expression as sober as my own. “Min and I were luring you out of your bat cave because I was going to ask you to prom.” The air vacates my lungs, and I’m stunned into paralysis by the words that just flew from my lips.

Rowen’s eyes widen a notch, but he doesn’t move, doesn’t breathe.

“But then you forgot to go when the light turned green and the idiot in the Mercedes behind you forgot to look up from his phone. You know the rest.”

Rowen tilts his eyes ever so slightly, his eyes still stuck on mine. “And the next day…”

He wants me to finish it, and so I do. We both know the horrible end to this heartbreaking tale. “The next day you left us, and I never saw you again. You might as well have shouted I hate you as you ran out the door that night.”

His eyes close as his chest depresses with defeat. “I don’t hate you, Sophie. I could never hate you.”

“But you hate Braden, and, by sibling proxy, that might as well be me.” I spin around and press my feet into solid stone. “On three.”

We sail down one last time, hitting the ground with an echoing thump, and the crew comes out to free us. Bodies pull and tug at our limbs until we’re separated by at least ten feet, and it feels as if everything we’ve just experienced, all those damning words we exchanged were simply just a dream.

Seth comes out to speak with me as I’m untangled from my puppet strings, and I can’t help but note that Rowen’s sensory guide, Petra, is busy whispering into his ear as well.

“You did fantastic up there! Do you have Saturday night free?” Seth beams like a proud parent, and for a second, I think he’s asking me out. “The two of you have chemistry that’s off the charts. Why didn’t you tell us you knew one another?”

“You heard all that?”

“You’re wired to the hilt, kid. Everyone heard all that. It was wonderful. Dexter came out and said you were dynamite.”

“We’re dynamite, all right.” Little does Seth or Dexter realize how close to imploding we really are. It did feel good to have it out with Rowen, though, if only in tiny little sound bites just seconds before each descent.

“I’ll send you the details Friday afternoon.”

“What’s with all the secrecy? I’d much prefer a syllabus so I can pick and choose my poison. If there are any more aerial gymnastics involved, you can forget it. I think you’ve just aggravated a cardiac condition I’ve had since childhood.”

“Really?” He looks horrified.

“No, not really, but imagine the lawsuit you’d have on your hands.”

He belts out a laugh. “Try as you might, you can’t sue us. That contract you signed was ironclad.”

“Good to know. Anything else you’d like to laugh in my face about before I fall to the ground and make out with Mother Earth?”

He frowns as he frees me from the wires strapped to my body like a bomb. “You didn’t”—he hesitates a moment—“you know, kiss. We thought it was imminent the way you two went at it. Why the holdout?”

“Holdout? I’m no holdout.” I glance back at Rowen who’s busy stripping himself of his own mic. “I don’t know. I think Ro and I are just sort of destined to be friends.” An hour ago I wouldn’t have said that with confidence, but something about that jaunt through hell solidified the fact I’d probably wave to him if I saw him on campus and not just with a select finger.

“Friends?” Seth balks at the idea. “You left the friend zone right along with that puddle of drool we had to mop up that first day you made out with him. Trust me, no one else kissed like that, Sophie.”

“That’s because you loaded us up with that roofie laced breath mint,” I say as he hands me my purse and laughs.

“Look for my email. I think you’ll like what we have planned for Saturday.”

“Let me guess. Diving into a pool filled with leeches? Better yet, tandem enemas? The couple that sprays together, stays together. Now there’s a visual that might actually garner some ratings.”

His face lights up with a grimace. “You have a sick sense of humor. That’s why you’re my favorite subject.” He gives a quick wink before stepping in. “Oh, and hey, you and what’s his face should probably limit public interaction for a bit. The team wants to make sure to catch all the sparks you two are setting off. Don’t go diving underneath the sheets just yet. Save the hot stuff for the camera, would you?”

“Right.” I avert my eyes, but deep down, my dirty little mind is diving over Rowen’s naked body, heating up the sheets like a disco inferno with all our hip grinding night moves. “I’ll catch you later.” I can’t believe I’m even entertaining placing my life in the hands of these psychotics handpicked by Dexter Houston. No wonder Scarlett Stafford dumped him. The dude is batshit. There’s no way I should show up this Saturday. And if Rowen covets his burgeoning football career, neither should he. One wrong move this afternoon and he would have gone from hero quarterback to uncelebrated water boy who rides the short bus. Dexter Houston is the mad hatter, and I think it’s time we all crawled out of the rabbit hole while we still have our heads attached.

I make my way to my old beat-up Honda with its crooked bumper and dimpled doors, and I’ve never been so glad to see Gertrude. Yes, she’s an old and ugly turd mobile, but she’s my old and ugly turd mobile.

The brand new shiny white truck next to me burps to life as I spot Rowen heading over with his dark hair slicked back, those sirens he calls eyes pinning me down without even trying. God, less than ten minutes ago those enormous arms of his were wrapped around my whole body. I can still smell his cologne in my hair.

“Where you off to?” He folds his arms over the back of his truck and leans my way, looking like the epitome of every song ever sang by a country girl.

“Back to Canterbury. I plan on stitching myself inside my sheets so I don’t ever pull another dumb stunt like that.”

He belts out a quick laugh, and his dimples dig in, framing his happy face with a lewd level of sexiness that should be outlawed in all fifty dimple-loving states. “No, you’re not. You’re coming to dinner with me.”

I don’t say yes or no. I just follow Rowen’s car out past Laurel Lake, over the covered bridge that leads into town. He hits the drive-through at Hot and Big Burgers, and I file in behind him placing my own order. When I come to the window, the cashier lets me know the truck in front paid for my order. I can’t help but smile. I can’t help but feel special as I follow Rowen to wherever it is he’s leading me.

I’m having dinner with Rowen Garret without another soul around. Seth asked me to save the hot stuff for the camera. As if. As if there will be any hot stuff.

Rowen drives us deep into the woods, away from civilization, away from reality, from Braden and Becca, and Dexter and his team of mad scientists.

Rowen and I are going to be all alone in the woods.

Whatever will we do?