“Get dressed,” I tell her.
She raises her head, focusing on me. “What?”
“We’re going out.”
She’s already turned me down for skydiving twice. This time, I’m not telling her where we’re going. I know she’ll love it if she tries it.
She’s hesitant. “Where?”
“You’ll see.” I turn toward my room. “Wear jeans and sneakers. Be ready in an hour.”
“Callum—”
“One hour, Red.”
I leave before she can argue.
Sixty minutes later, she appears in jeans and sneakers, and her hair is pulled back.
“Are you going to tell me where we’re going now?” She crosses her arms.
“Skydiving.”
She stares at me like I’ve lost my mind. “You’re joking. I know you’re joking because I already said no to this.”
I grab my keys off the counter. “Do I look like I’m joking?”
“I’ve never jumped out of a plane before.”
“So you’ve said.” I head for the elevator. “Come on.”
She follows, muttering something I don’t catch.
In the car, she’s quiet for the first ten minutes. Then the questions start.
“How many times have you done this again?”
“Lost count after fifty.”
Her eyes widen. “Fifty?”
“Give or take.”
“And you’ve never died?”
I grin. “Obviously.”
“That’s not reassuring,” she huffs. “You could.”
“You’ll be strapped to an instructor. It’s the safest way to do it.”
“And you?” She touches my arm without thinking, then catches herself.
“Solo.”
She shakes her head. “Of course you go solo.”
The airfield appears after another twenty minutes. It’s small, tucked between farmland and trees. The plane sits on the tarmac.
