Loony Tunes. Moon girl. Lunatic.
Those were the words people usually tied my name to—woo-woo wild, something off-kilter. Not the sky.
Not limitless.
He straightened a little. “So…you’re not going in?”
I swallowed hard.
“Oh, yeah. No.” I waved a hand, forcing myself to sound more casual than I felt. “Babs’s reservation was lost, so I gave her mine. Which, honestly, is fine. Not a big deal.” Honestly, it wasn’t. “What about you? Did you book yourself a nice, relaxing facial?”
“Not really my thing.” But he was looking at me a little too closely, probably afraid he’d have a hysterical woman on his hands for the second time that day.
I forced a teasing smile. “A manicure then?”
“No.” A quirk of his mouth revealed a hint of amusement. “Just a few upgrades for my mom. She deserves it…”
I filed this into the store of information I’d been gathering on him. Not a mama’s boy—just a guy who genuinely appreciated the woman who’d raised him.
“Lucky Mom,” I said.
He didn’t argue, but his eyes slid to the exit and then back to me. Then, he pulled something from his back pocket, a glossy brochure, and unfolded it with a flick of his wrist.
It advertised an…amusement park? I took it, my eyes locking on the picture of a young woman laughing, riding a single-person roller coaster through some alpine trees, but I barely had time to register that before I noticed a smaller image.
Screaming passengers on a giant swing, suspended over a massive drop.
I was pretty sure I’d seen this in a TikTok compilation of World’s Scariest Rides (That Will Absolutely Make You Pee Your Pants).
“Well? What do you think?” he asked.
I cleared my throat. “Uh…I don’t think that’s on the itinerary.”
“It isn’t.” Only one side of his mouth went up, but his eyes held a familiar gleam—the same one I’d seen earlier when he was talking about skydiving. “Does everything have to be on the itinerary?”
“No!” I answered way too fast. I mean, how many times had I silently moaned to myself about the regimented schedule we’d be following?
I grimaced. “It’s just…I thought you’d be sick of me by now.” I mean, we’d spent all day together.
And it had been a really long day.
He just shook his head. “So you’re sick of me then?”
I just smiled at that. I mean, I should be sick of him, and yet…
“How would we get there?”
Noah lifted his phone, thumb hovering over an app. “Just a few minutes by Uber.”
While my new, anxious, hyper-rational brain was busy resisting straying away from the tour, another part of me—a part I’d almost forgotten even existed—suddenly uncoiled.
I didn’t want to go through life hesitating. I didn’t want to let fear make decisions for me.
I mean, yes, I had just endured a really messy breakup. Literally. And tanked the career I’d been building for almost a decade. Lost all my friends. Was going to lose my home…
And I was alone now.
Where was I going with this?
