“Alright. Thank you.” The words came out a little breathier than I intended. I could feel that lump in my throat again, the kind that had snuck up on me more than once this trip.
Noah had, in fact, taken care of everything—right down to arranging for a shuttle to take us to the west rim, which was a full five-hour drive! And since we’d left the El Tovar at seven that morning, it was no wonder that I slept for the few hours before we stopped for lunch. It didn’t hurt that apparently I could sleep anywhere when I had Noah’s shoulder to fall asleep on.
By the time we arrived at the West Rim Hotel, the sun was high in the sky, already cooking the earth. But it didn’t take long to sense that this side of the canyon felt different from the parts we’d seen from above, or the south rim.
This place felt more…commercial.
There were signs everywhere. Branded walkways. Buses shuttling people between buildings. And the Skywalk Visitor Center, where the shuttle dropped us off, looked more like a modern shopping mall than part of a national park. The canyon itself felt a little electric here. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that we were so close to Las Vegas?
But weirdly, with Noah, I didn’t mind.
It didn’t matter what we did. We could just have fun together.
First stop: the Skywalk.
I hadn’t expected it to feel like much—just a curved glass bridge suspended over a canyon. No big deal. But.
Holy Guacamole.
Right past my feet, which were wearing little blue booties, I could see straight through the floor…to the bottom of the canyon.
In hindsight, I really should have seen this coming. How crazy it felt. Dizzying.
“Why does this feel way more terrifying than the helicopter?” I was only joking, though. Like sixty percent joking. Mostly because it gave me an excuse to cling to Noah’s arm.
Not that I needed one.
He laughed. At first. Then he was the one looking down. And Noah, my brave beautiful man, turned pale.
“Oh, Christ.” He stopped mid-step. “Okay. That’s not okay. I didn’t think—hold on, I just need to?—”
And then he sat down.
Right there. On the glass.
“Just don’t look down,” I said, laughing as I knelt beside him. I wanted to tease but also comfort him, especially after how supportive he’d been with me. “You okay?”
“Did you just say don’t look down?”
“Hush.” I reached out and touched his mouth, fighting a grin. “I’m not the one sitting on the floor right now.”
“True.”
“Just hold my hand and breathe,” I whispered, adding with a little extra teasing lilt, “Grady.”
He grinned. “You’re pretty adorable when you mock me, you know that?”
But then his eyes flicked back down for a split second, and he immediately clenched them shut again.
“I’m not proud of this,” he mumbled, voice a little strained. “It’s so much worse when you can see straight through it.”
I crouched closer, my grin widening. This man, who’d wanted to hurl himself down whitewater rapids, who’d admitted to jumping out of airplanes, was completely undone by a glass floor.
“What I would give to take a picture of this.” Jokingly, but also…because I never wanted to forget this moment.
He cracked one eye open. “Now I know why they don’t allow phones out here,” he half-laughed, half-groaned. “To protect people’s dignity.”
“Right? So, the one time I’m okay with something and you aren’t, we can’t go live on Facebook.”
