I tug her close and hug her to me, kiss her forehead. Something I’ve been doing for a long time as her friend. “It’s going to be great. One of the guides will be at the other end of the line to make sure you get there okay.”
Martin goes first, after Dexter. The line isn’t that long, a quickie to get the newbies acclimated to the feeling of ziplining. Still, he gives a hearty whoop, and Sharon laughs as he soars across the line to the other side to meet Dexter. Sharon follows.
“Want me to go next?” I ask her.
She lifts her chin. “No, I’ll do it.”
I stroke her cheek then drop my hand before I do something stupid like kiss her. “Kick ass, kitten. You got this.”
Veronica gets Lauren’s harness strapped in. Lauren takes a long moment to stare across the canopy. We’re not that high up, with trees thrusting all around us, but high enough that a fall would hurt like a motherfucker and end in broken bones, if not worse. I know she’s thinking about that. But she sucks in a loud breath and pushes off the edge, and her scream of initial panic fills the entire woods.
My stomach lurches, and I take an instinctive step toward her.
Then I hear Lauren erupt into a wild laugh. “Oh my God!” she cries out. “This is crazy!” Her feet hit the other side, and even from here I can see her shaking all over and cackling like a crazy woman as Dexter unstraps her from the line. She pumps her fists in the air and turns back to look at me. “Hurry up, pokey!” she calls out.
The broad smile on my face as I soar to the other side isn’t from elation at the zipline.
The three hours of our tour go by way too fast. Once Lauren gets over her initial fright of ziplining, she’s into it like a boss. She even leans back and planks on one of the lines, squealing with glee as she stares straight up at the sky. However, she isn’t a fan of rappelling, clutching her rope and squinting her eyes closed the entire time. At least she gives it a try, though.
Martin and Sharon also have fun—in between numerous moments of making out. The two are constantly touching each other, the way newlyweds do like they’re trying to convince themselves that their life is real and not a dream, to the point where even our tour guides are teasing them about being inseparable. I’m happy for the couple, of course, but it does make things a little awkward for me, being around Lauren.
During our tour, I find myself manufacturing excuses to touch Lauren every time I can—adjusting her hat or harness, helping her over rough terrain, balancing her while she gets strapped into the zipline. Given the way she leans into my touch, turn to me for security and safety, she doesn’t seem to mind.
That damn hope resurfaces in my chest again. Lauren might not realize how she feels about me, but I suspect it’s more than just friendship, or sex. I can’t be reading into these signs. Right?
The last zipline is the longest of all, a trek across the top of a massive valley. The late spring blooms mean the trees below us are green and wild, and I savor the sensation of the wind whipping in my face, going over fifty miles an hour as I fly to the other side of the line. Lauren’s already waiting there for me, clapping in glee. She gives me a high five, her cheeks bright red from the sun and wind and her own rush of giddiness.
We walk to the minivan and ride back to the building, weaving down the narrow dirt road through the woods. Lauren’s leaning against me, no hesitation, no pause. She’s completely relaxed, high on endorphins from the rush of what we just did.
“So you had a good time?” I ask as I drape my arm around her shoulders, urge her into my side.
She looks up at me. “Surprisingly, yes. A great time. I had no idea I’d enjoy it that much. I totally want to do it again.”
“How about skydiving next time?” I tease her. “I know a guy…”
“Hell no.” She pulls a face. “I’ll cheer you on from the ground.”
I lean close to her and peer into her eyes. “Never say never. I got you here. I bet I can get you in a plane with me. There’s nothing that compares to the sensation of free-falling.”
“Nothing?” she blurts out, and then bites her lip. She gives an awkward chuckle.
I smile widely and lean closer until our mouths are inches apart. I won’t kiss her, but I want her to be aware of me. To associate me with the wild rush of letting go, having fun. “Almost nothing.” Then I deftly change the subject to keep her on her toes and not let her dwell too much on where that line of thought can lead. “Xander’s son’s birthday party is in a couple of weeks. Do you want to go?”
She blinks. “Oh, wow, okay. How old will he be?”
“Three. I can hardly believe it.” I saw him yesterday when he came by the bar with his mom. He toddled right over to me and hugged my leg, and I think my heart exploded from all the emotions I felt. Then Xander gave me a knowing smirk, and I slugged him in the arm, which made him cry out loud.