Fighting to Forget (Fighting, #3)

The ride kicks in, and she kicks her legs, releasing the most feminine squeal I’ve ever heard. “This is awesome!”


I’m entranced, watching the pure joy and excitement radiating from her expression: intoxicating, inspiring, and so fuckin’ beautiful it makes my chest hurt.

What the hell is this girl doing to me? Something shifts inside me, a slight movement that should be so obvious and yet I have no clue what the fuck. All I know is that being around Mac is like a drug. One hit was just enough to get me jonesing for more.

A lot more.

*

Mac

“That was amazing!” I’m jumping up and down, shaking out my hands from the adrenaline rush of hanging off the top of the Stratosphere next to Rex.

“You liked that, huh?” He’s so relaxed, as if he just rolled off a massage table rather than a high-speed extreme ride.

“Like it? I loved it!” I grab his forearm. “Let’s do it again.”

He tilts his head, flashing a crooked smile. He’s not jerking away from my touch, and if I thought he’d let me, I’d lean in and suck his bottom lip into my mouth. This is the most relaxed I’ve seen him since our encounter in Jonah’s hallway, and I don’t want him retreating on me again, so I keep my advances to myself.

“That was only a warm up.” He jerks his head toward the direction of a platform surrounded by bars and cables. “You game for bigger and better?”

I don’t know what he’s talking about, but there’s nothing I’d say no to when it comes to Rex. “I’m always game when it comes to you.”

He blinks and his grin falls a fraction, but not as if he didn’t like what I said, more like he didn’t understand it. I stay quiet, allowing him a moment to process my words.

The urge to unload my secret wiggles its way to my forebrain. He needs to know who I am, and there’s a part of me that wants to tell him, hoping it’ll help me to move on from the guilt and shame I’ve been lugging around my entire life. All those years I thought he was dead, knowing that it was my fault for being so stupid. I was so damn young and naive. If I’d just done what I’d promised and gotten him out of there, then there’d be no secrets to hide, no shame to drag along. Being with him like this makes me want to unload all that heavy weight, throw it out there and revel in the freedom of unburdening. Fear, straight-up belly cramping, sweat-inducing fear has me biting down against the truth.

I told myself that I’d confess and beg for his forgiveness if I ever got the chance. And this is my chance. But what would my confession do to this? To us?

“Right, well . . .” His voice’s low and gravelly, like it is when he’s on stage. He dips his face close to mine. “Let’s see you back up that sweet mouth with a little action.”

Sweet mouth. My stomach quivers, and I press my knees together at the effect his words have over my body. He snags my hand and leads me back inside. After a short exchange with some of the staff who clearly know Rex well, we’re putting on jumpsuits and getting strapped into harnesses.

“I’m not bungee jumping off the top of the Stratosphere, am I?” Being on a thrill ride is one thing, but strapped to a cord and jumping from a building might be pushing my limits a little too far.

He’s in his gray jumpsuit and harness but still looks smokin’ hot and manly as hell. “Nope, no bungee.” He tugs on a few of my straps, making sure I’m secure, and the simple act warms my chest. “Just jumping.”

“Jumping.”

He nods.

“Off of the Stratosphere.”

He nods again.

“Landing?”

His deep blue eyes meet mine. “On the ground.”

“Oh God.” I tug at the straps that now feel suffocating. “Oh God, oh God, oh God.”

He hooks his fingers beneath my chin and pulls my eyes to his. “You’re gonna love it. Didn’t you ever dream about flying when you were a kid?”

My breath catches in my throat. As a kid, the only thing I ever dreamed of was Rex. “I guess.”

His eyes dance around my face, and I can’t help but feel as if he’s reading my thoughts. “The rush you’re about to experience—falling at forty miles per hour—it feels like flying.” The last word is spoken with such fascination I have to wonder if he dreamed of flying when he was a kid, escaping into the great expanse of the sky where no one can touch him, hold him against his will, keep him locked away.

“Whoa, hey, if you’re not ready for this, we don’t have to do it.” The tenderness in his voice combined with the way his eyebrows are dropped low tells me he’s actually reading my expression and confusing my thoughts for fear.

I sniff back my emotion and smile. “No, I’m good. Promise.”

He studies my face, not looking convinced. I smile bigger to alleviate his worry.

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