“You like that about me.”
He didn’t deny it.
“We should go before you get hypothermia,” Enzo said, standing as he popped the last piece of his sandwich in his mouth.
Rolling my eyes, I snorted. “You’re so dramatic.”
We made our way back onto one of the catwalks, slick with ice and edged in frost. The metal groaned faintly beneath our boots. The spray from the falls made everything shimmer — and treacherously slick.
“Careful,” Enzo warned from behind me.
“I am careful,” I replied, glancing back with a grin. “You’re the one who—”
My boot slid.
For a split second, the world tilted: blue sky, blur of railing, the roar of water below. My stomach dropped as my balance went out from under me …
And then an arm closed hard around my waist.
Enzo.
He hauled me against him with a single, sharp motion, spinning me until my back hit his chest. His arm locked around me, solid and unyielding. I could feel his breath against the side of my neck; short, controlled, but tight.
“Jesus, Gia,” he muttered, his voice low against my ear. “You trying to give me a heart attack?”
My pulse was hammering. “I told you I was fine,” I managed, breathless.
“Yeah?” His grip didn’t ease. “Didn’t look fine from where I was standing.”
I turned slightly in his hold, just enough to meet his eyes. They were darker than usual, a mix of adrenaline and something else — something that made my chest tighten.
His fingers flexed once against my waist before he finally let go, slowly, as if making sure I was steady.
“Next time,” he said quietly, “hold the rail.”
“Next time,” I shot back, trying to sound unaffected, “don’t sneak up on me like some ninja.”
He almost smiled. Almost. “If I hadn’t, you’d be in the river.”
“Well, thank you for saving me.”
He smirked, his tone teasing, “Don’t make it a habit.”
We kept walking. The air between us felt charged now; the kind of silence that hummed instead of rested. I couldn’t stop thinking about how hard his heart was pounding against my back when he pulled me against him; how I could hear the fear in his voice that he tried to mask.
At the next overlook, we stopped again. I leaned against the railing this time, deliberately steady, and he stood close beside me. I could still feel the ghost of his arm around my waist.
“You always this protective?” I asked, arching a brow at him.
“Only when someone insists on slipping off cliffs.”
“That’s specific.”
His lips curved faintly. “You’re a specific kind of problem.”
I laughed softly, turning back toward the falls so he wouldn’t see how warm that made me feel.
As we reached the bridge near the bottom of the trail, I stopped one last time. The falls were louder here, wilder.
