Page 55 of Too Sweet
“Fifteen seconds!”
“Oh, no, no, no,no!” Mia shakes her head, leaving angry, half-moon marks in my arm with her nails. “No, please! I don’t want to do this! Let me go!”
“Red, baby. Sayred,andwe stop.”
But instead of the safe word, she chantsnoonrepeat like it’s a coping mechanism.
The instructor gives me a hand signal as if he knows it’s better not to yelljump, or Mia will freak out. Not that she isn’t already... I fucking love that about her. She’s not pretending, not hiding her feelings. She’s fighting the fear.
I grip both of her hands, knotting our fingers, and step toward the edge of the plane, nothing but open space as far as the eye can see.
“No, please, please, I can’t do this, I can’t...”
I stamp a kiss on the crown of her head and outstretch our hands to the sides, tilting us forward. We’re out of the plane the next second, and Mia’s screaming.
The high-pitched wail cuts through the air like a scalpel. I’m pretty sure it’s supposed to be a very longeinred, but too late.
“Open your eyes,” I yell over the sound of air going by us at a hundred and twenty miles per hour, even though I shouldn’t talk in freefall. “Look around!”
The screaming ceases instantly, and Mia’s fingers tighten their hold around mine. She’s excited. I can tell. I fuckingknowher so well by now that I read her reactions with ease.
I remember my first jump, the sensory overload, and I’m so glad Mia’s experiencing this in my arms—the earth from an angle she’s never seen before, the feeling of weightlessness as we fall, the smell of the freshest air you can get.
This is my six-hundred and thirteenth jump, but except for the first, none compare to this one. I hold Mia’s hands in mine and steer, bending her elbows and forcing my body into an arch until we do a three-sixty flip in the air.
“Again!” she cries, the word barely reaching my ears.
This time she arches with me, making the flip easier. We’re getting closer to five thousand feet, so I let go of her hand, showing her the signal forpull.
I glance around, checking the position of the two instructors behind us before I pull the line. We’re jerked in the air when the white canvas takes the strain.
Mia lets out an ecstatic cheer that makes me feel weightless. There’s no fear left in her petite body: just adrenaline and happiness.
“We jumped!”
I steer the parachute toward the field far below, where my family is, nothing more than a few dots scattered around the grass and tarmac.
“That wasn’t so scary, was it?”
“We jumped out of a plane!” She bounces in the harness, swinging us from side to side.
“I know you’re excited, but you need to stay still, or we’ll land in the river.”
She stills, but her fingers pump around my wrists like she’ll explode if she doesn’t let the emotions out somehow.
“Thank you! I’m glad you didn’t let me back down!”
I dip my head and press my lips to her hair, only realizing what I did once the honeysuckle scent invades my nose.
“You did great. Long-haul to Europe will be a breeze.”
The parachute jerks about, swinging us back to front when she starts bouncing again. I take a long way down, circling longer than necessary.
Mia’s turning her head left and right, taking in the views. I want to prolong that for her as much as possible.
“Legs out,” I instruct when we’re about to land.
She gets in position, surprising me that despite all her fear she managed to focus on what the instructors were saying during the safety briefing.
