She nodded.
“Then up we go!” Peter climbed upward, pulling them both high into the sky at a rapid pace with the two dozen older Lost Boys following behind, each one handpicked for this mission by Abbott, who served as the bookend for the group, looking unhappy as always as he soared quickly, cutting a line through the clouds. Wendy let her arms fall to her sides as she enjoyed the feeling of flying, slowly making her way through the endless sky, clumsy at best. The crawling lower mist of the morning thinned out the higher they went, and soon they were soaring across the miles that separated Pan Island from the main island, Peter twisting and swooping around Wendy, pulling her hair and tickling her foot as they flew, then disappearing into the mist that lazily embraced them in its folds.
The joy that was rising up in her chest overtook her, and she found herself laughing hysterically as she gained speed, plummeting through the clouds, the sensation of absolute freedom overtaking her. Wendy breathed in the cold air on her face, relished the rush of wind that pushed through her outstretched fingers. The air up here was clean and wet, the mist caressing her body as they whipped through its foamy gray, so thick she could almost hold it in her hand. She lost herself in the exhilaration, minutes passing before she felt Peter’s absence, felt her own lack of direction in the churning sea of thick mist. Was she going the right way? Had they turned without her knowing? A grip of panic pulled at her stomach.
“Peter?” she whispered, before raising her voice. “Peter?”
She slowed down, suddenly very unsure of where she was going, looking up and then down. Which way was down again? She couldn’t see anything. Where was she? Her heart rate increased as the lovely mist that had been her plaything moments ago became a choking fog. She turned over her feet and began flying downward (she hoped), crossing her fingers that she would come out over the turquoise waters separating Pan Island and the mainland. Up ahead, the clouds were clearing, and a sigh of relief escaped her lips. Something whooshed past her on the right, moving so fast that it sent her spinning in its wake. It passed again on the left. Wendy stopped moving completely, hovering silently in the air, her eyes alert. Peter’s face appeared above her. Then he disappeared again into the mist. She laughed.
“Peter!” There was another brush of air, and he materialized underneath her, flying faceup, as if he were lounging in a stream. He winked at her and then sank below the clouds where she could not see him anymore.
“Peter! Stop this silly game! Stop it!”
She giggled in spite of herself, not meaning a word of it. After a moment, to her vast relief, Wendy was able to vaguely make out the voices of the Lost Boys behind her. She turned her head to see their dirty faces, but the mist hid them from view. Someone called her name, softly, like a whisper. When she turned her face back, the sharp wind carrying her hair all around her, numbing her cheeks and hands, Peter was there waiting for her. Her breath caught in her throat, her heart speeding up, thrumming so intensely that she felt it in her ribs. He was so close that his face was inches away from hers, and she could see the small navy flecks, lined with gold, that circled inside his green eyes.
His cool, clean smell, the smells of leaves and earth and magic, washed across her face as he trailed his fingers down her cheek and up into her wild hair. His body curled toward Wendy, his green eyes never pulling away from hers even though they were moving through the air, pulled by his momentum, downward, ever downward. Wendy forgot to breathe as he looked at her with wonder, his curious eyes tracing every line of her face with want.
“Wendy . . .”
Then he leaned forward and pressed his lips against her own with a palpable hunger. His lips were warm and woodsy. His hands traced her jawline and neck as they kissed, his tongue running over her own, his hands tangling in the hair that was standing straight up as they sank lower and lower through the mist. With a sigh, he buried his face in her neck before pulling back up to her lips and kissing her again, hungrily, his arms pulling her ever closer as they sank lower and lower.