I looked around nervously to see if anyone was watching us. Was he allowed to hold my hand? Would we get in trouble? Maybe it was just an angel’s way of communicating with a friend, although I desperately hoped it meant more to him.
We walked around the village, but I could barely focus on anything. My entire being was concentrated on the four square inches of my skin touching his. I couldn’t believe how electric it felt, like our entire bodies were plugged into one another through our hands.
We strode past a small garden, through an overgrown thicket bursting with thistles, and into the woods. We walked for a bit through the forest, and then he suddenly stopped and turned toward me.
“Close your eyes,” he said.
“Um, no thanks,” I answered.
“Come on,” he begged. “Please.”
“Why?”
“Just trust me,” he said. “You’re going to love this.”
I looked around. There was nothing but trees as far as I could see. “All right, but don’t walk me into anything.”
“I promise,” he said. “I won’t walk you into anything.”
His emphasis concerned me. “Or through anything,” I added.
“No problem. Not into or through. Got it.”
I closed my eyes and let him lead me, although I shortened the distance between us to keep from stumbling. Instead of holding his hand, I wrapped my arms around his left one, hugging it close to my chest.
Without sight, my other senses roared to life. The scent of him—woodsy and masculine—filled my nose. The sound of his breath coming quicker now—or was that my imagination?—filled my ears. The movement of his muscles beneath my palms—hard and yet somehow still soft—thrilled me.
The spongey ground beneath my feet hardened in one step, and he instantly swooped out of my grasp and repositioned himself. He was now standing behind me, pressed close, his hands over my eyes. I put my own hands up to his in protest.
“What gives?” I asked.
“Can’t have you peeking,” he said. “Not when we’re so close.”
Even though I still couldn’t see a thing, I could sense a change in the atmosphere. There was more wind. It made me a little dizzy. I heard the sound of water. A waterfall, I decided. He wanted to show me a secret forest waterfall.
We continued walking for a few paces when, midstep, my right foot still in the air, he tightened his grip on me. “That’s enough,” he said. “You can open your eyes.”
In one swift movement, he let go of my face and moved his hands to my shoulders and squeezed them, almost too tightly. I wondered why he needed to hold me so tight. The wind was stronger now and lapped at my cheeks. I opened my eyes.
I was standing on the very edge of a cliff, staring straight down into the churning water far below. I was leaning forward at an impossible angle, with nothing but air under my body.
I screamed and almost squirmed out of Gavin’s grip. My right foot scrambled to settle on hard ground, sending a small cascade of rocks hundreds, if not thousands of feet straight down. Was this a murder-suicide mission? Did he mean to kill me?
“It’s a’right,” he said in his crazy-sexy accent. “I’ve got you.”
Still panicked, I looked down to make sure I was touching some part of the cliff when I saw that his boots, on either side of my feet, were halfway over the edge. But he was standing on it. Barely. He was somehow suspending us both with a supernatural strength.
“Relax, Maren,” Gavin said in a voice that made it very hard to do anything else. “Enjoy the view.”
I took a deep breath and forced myself to lift my eyes from the jagged, jet-black rocks flecked with florescent green that leered up from the swirling water. The sea spread out before me on all three sides. A million shades of blue shone through the water and the sky, making it hard to tell which was which. I felt like I was in the clouds and part of the earth.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” he said. “I just had to show you. Let you feel it the way I can.”
Seeing the world from this perspective was both dizzying and wonderful. There was nothing around us. Just open, empty space. Just me and him.
“It’s great,” I sputtered. “Super fun. But can we reel it back in?”
“Sure,” he answered. I felt him flex his shoulder muscles as he straightened up, tipping us away from the edge. He took a step backward, and I practically threw myself off him. My heart was beating so fast that I was shaking, but I realized with amazement that I liked the feeling. It was a good shaking. A thrilling shaking.
I crumpled to the ground, grateful for the warm rock beneath me. “That was not funny, dangling me over the edge like that,” I breathed, although I couldn’t hide my joy completely.
“Och, it kind of was,” he answered, sitting down next to me.
Secure now that I was safe on solid ground, I surveyed my surroundings. The forest behind us ended abruptly, but the cliff continued, a wide-open space floored with large, flat boulders. The smooth rock surface seemed to rise slightly and disappear into the sky.
I scanned the endless horizon. The blues in the sky were beginning to dissolve into dark purple. Small islands seemed to float in the clouds and bob in the ocean at the same time. I felt like the beautiful vista was secretly painted just for us. Sharing the spectacular view with Gavin made me feel special, like I was chosen just for him, and this was “our” place.
“What do you think? Pretty amazing, right?” Gavin asked.
I nodded, still trying to calm down. Being so close to him made it hard. Our bodies were now touching from shoulder to thigh. “It’s breathtaking,” I said. “But how are we so high? We were just in a valley and didn’t really go up a very big hill.”
“Scotland’s funny like that,” he replied. “So you like it?” He was eager for my approval. A good sign that he didn’t despise me.
I closed my eyes as the wind swirled past my face. A warm peace burst inside and then settled over me. “I love it. It’s like being on top of the world.”
He smiled. “I come here whenever I need to think.” He paused. “I don’t know why, but I wanted you to see it.”
“It feels like we’re the only two people on earth up here,” I marveled.
“Maybe we are.”
I turned and found he was admiring me, not the scenery. I stared back, trying to memorize the different shades and shapes of blue in his eyes. After a few minutes, he finally spoke. “Your eyes. They’re such a strange color.”
“You mean green?” I said, not daring to look away.
“No, ‘green’ is entirely too small a word to describe them.”
We sat still, looking at each other. I didn’t want to break the silence and hoped he would continue. He did.