Okay, I let out a deep breath.Phew.
“It’s incredible,” he added.
“Even if you don’t do heights?” I mumbled.
“You’re scared of heights?”
“Yes.” I folded my arms across my chest. “Thank you for asking.”
Connor turned toward the bridge, to consider. We were only several yards away now; something in me squirmed as I watched a man execute a perfect flip. His fellow jumpers cheered once he hit the water, a wide channel. Was there a current?
“Listen, I don’t love heights either,” Connor admitted. “I got stuck at the top of a roller coaster when I was ten, and it wasterriblylife-changing.” He motioned to the madness. “But this is agoodkind of life-changing. You’ll see.”
I cocked my head. “Are you trying to twist my arm?”
Connor shook his head. “I’m not an arm-twister.”
“Oh, well…” I didn’t know what to say. “I appreciate it.”
“Of course,” he said, then ran a hand through his hair. “I think you should at least walk across the bridge, though, to experience the energy.”
“And to watch you do a cannonball?”
“Olivia, you have far too much faith in me.” He laughed. “I only pulled off a pencil dive last time…”
Before braving the bridge, Connor and I made a detour to the beach—to the ancient boulders lining the channel, where mostof the spectators sat. “Excuse me, sir,” Connor said to an older man wearing a pair of aviators, an artist whose collapsible chair was precariously perched on a rock. He seemed to be working on something in his sketchbook. “Would you mind keeping an eye on these for us?”
Without glancing away from his drawing, he gave us a thumbs-up. We left our towels at the edge of his boulder and then retraced our steps to higher ground. A blast of adrenaline knocked me back, catching me so off my guard that I almost didn’t clock a moped speed by. “Watch out, Elle Woods!” someone shouted at me and my pink bikini.
“How original,” I muttered as Connor put a hand on my waist to guide me farther along the bridge. Sunlight swirled on my skin.
We snapped up the first break in the crowd, and Connor didn’t hesitate before scaling the railing’s five rungs. He stretched his arms above his head once he’d gotten his balance on top, and the girl next to us openly checked him out, fascinated by his flexed shoulder muscles.
“Nice view!” He obliviously scanned the bright horizon. “I think I see Nick’s boat.”
“Really?” I asked. There were a couple boats bobbing in the distance. “Island Girl?”
“Olivia, I’m notthatfarsighted. She’s blue and white, right?”
“Per his Instagram,” I said, and wanting to get a better look, Icarefully climbed the wet but sturdy wooden fence. I didn’t realize what I was doing until Connor offered a hand to help me. He smirked once we stood side by side.
“So you’ll brave the higher altitudes for Nick?”
Heat rushed to my cheeks.
“It’s okay,” he said. “I would too.”
I rolled my eyes, ignoring the tremors rolling up the backs of my legs. Connor shifted so that his arm brushed mine before he sidestepped closer, as if worried I’d slip. “Is his boat even out there?”
Connor pointed, and sure enough, I made out two people fishing off a white boat with two blue stripes.
Bare feet gripping the rail, I was suddenly very aware of being so high in the air. Blood pounded in my ears, and I told myself not to look down—to keep looking atIsland Girl. “Are you ready?” I asked after a beat, stealing a glance at Connor.
“Yes.” He gently elbowed me. “It sounds like you are too.”
I shrugged, but a strange lump formed in my throat. “When am I going to get the chance to do this again?”
“Any time over the next twenty days,” he quipped. “But I get what you’re saying.”
