I stand away from the windows, not wanting to touch any of the polished surfaces and leaving smudges. “I’m just not used to all this.” I gesture at the windows as the elevator doors slide shut. “Everything’s just so … nice.”
Finn and River trade a look, and then Finn grins at me. “Relax.” He drapes his arm around me and pulls me against him. “It’s not a big deal, I promise.”
“It is, too, a big deal,” I insist. “Everything is just so nice and clean, and I feel like if I touch anything, I’m going to ruin it.”
Finn rubs his free hand across his mouth to conceal a smile.
I narrow my eyes at him. “It’s not funny, so stop smiling.”
“I’m sorry,” Finn apologizes, but his smile breaks through. “It’s just that you’re so damn adorable.”
“I told you to stop calling me that,” I warn. “And FYI, you smell really bad.”
His lips part. “I do not.”
“You do, too.” I smile sweetly at him. “And that’s payback for calling me adorable.”
“So, let me get this straight,” Finn says amusedly. “I call you adorable, and you return the favor by telling me I stink?”
I shrug. “I’m not adorable.”
“So, I don’t stink then,” Finn states.
“No, you definitely stink.” I exaggeratedly fan my hand in front of my nose.
River snickers from behind us.
Finn shoots him a dirty look, to which River responds with another laugh.
“Sorry, but this is hilarious,” River tells him apologetically then looks at me. “He’s not used to hearing the truth. Usually, everyone kisses his ass.”
“Like you’re one to talk,” Finn quips. “Everyone kisses your ass, too.”
“No, they’re afraid of my ass.” River crosses his arms and stares out the window as the elevator goes so high that the pool looks like a tiny puddle.
“Are they?” Finn challenges. “Or do they think you’re just anti-social?”
They continue to argue, but I barely hear them as my legs wobble. This is so high—too high. And yes, I suffer from acrophobia. For a good reason, too. When I was younger, my father and his brother—my uncle—thought it would be hilarious to dangle me over the edge of a tower they used to go to near the canal to deal drugs. It was stories high, and I don’t know what the purpose of it was. All I know is that one day, when I was about six, I wanted to see where they went when they took off, so I snuck after them. When they caught me, they forced me to climb up the rusty ladder that stretches to the top of the tower. Then they dangled me over the edge, upside down, to teach me a lesson about sneaking around.
I’m honestly not even sure why I followed them. I hate my uncle, and although I wasn’t aware that I did back then, I despise my father.
“Maddy?” River’s worried voice slices through my memories.
When I blink back to reality, Finn and River are staring at me with concern.
“Huh?” I have no idea what’s going on.
“You’re shaking,” Finn states, and I become painfully aware that his arm is still draped around my shoulders.
I instinctively duck out from underneath it, but the move puts me closer to a window. I freeze and let out a groan as vertigo slams through me.
“Hey.” River steps forward and captures my hand. “Tell us what’s wrong so we can try to help?”
“I’m afraid of heights,” I moan as the elevator slows to a stop. “I just need to get off this thing.”
Like the gates of heaven have opened up, the elevator doors glide open at that moment.
River walks forward, pulling me with him as he exits the elevator. Finn trails after us with his hands stuffed into his pockets and his gaze straying to mine and River’s interlocked fingers.
