My head is spinning about a million miles per hour, but then I reach down and find Harry’s hand. I’m not even self-conscious about how sweaty I am, my nerves are buzzing so insistently.
“I’m here for you, Grace,” he says, giving my hand a reassuring squeeze.
But you weren’t before.
“Okay,” I say. “I want to do this. Just … just hold on to me, okay?”
He squeezes me tighter, our bodies smooshed right up against each other in the harness. My traitorous mind throws up a bunch of sizzling scenarios, none of which I can indulge.
I’m here for revenge, I remind myself.
But as we inch closer to the edge of the launching pad, that gets so fricking difficult to remember.
My mind homes down to the here and now.
Let yourself just be in the moment.
“Okay,” the red-headed instructor says. “You ready?”
“Are you?” Harry whispers.
I lean back against him, the same way I used to when we were watching a soccer game when another team was playing. I always loved how protective his arms were, like a solid shield blocking me off from the rest of the world.
“I’m ready,” I say.
And we jump.
Wooah!
The wind rushes past, the world moving so quickly it’s like we’re going to hit the ground any second …
But then we snap back up, and I realize both of us are laughing like crazy, screaming and yelling at the same time.
Harry tightens his hold on me as the upside-down city jostles around in my vision.
“Don’t worry,” he yells. “I’ve got you!”
And he has, he really fricking has.
Suddenly, this whole taste-of-his-own-medicine thing seems like it’s gonna be a whole lot more difficult than I expected.
