“That sounds like fun.” Marcy beams, her eyes gleaming, and my stomach sinks. Heights and I don’t mix. “We should all do it.”
“We should, Mom.” Brody looks at me pleadingly. “We never ride—”
“Sounds great,” I interrupt my son. Ember’s eyes rake over me, a sly smile on his face.
“You never ride the wheel, Shelby?” I like the way my name sounds when he says it. His voice is husky and smooth, like a strong whiskey that burns the pallet on its way down.
“I have, just not in a while,” I defend.
“Mom is—” Brody starts, and I lean over and plant a kiss on his cheek.
“Mom is thrilled too.” I clap, hoping he’ll drop it. My son knows how terrified I am of heights, and his innocent insistence is adorable but frustrating when it’s in front of Ember.
“That’s settled then,” Marcy states. The boys get drinks and popcorn, and we make our way to the dreaded monstrosity in the middle of the market. I look at the iron structure, wondering how on earth it stands. What if I get stuck up there? What if the safety gate opens?
We stand in the line, and I can feel the heat of Ember behind me. I try to concentrate on Marcy and the boys in front of me. They’re practically jumping with excitement. Chills run down my spine, and I have to step away a bit.
Brody is in his element as he chats away to Lucas. Marcy keeps giving Ember the eye, and it makes me shift from one foot to another.
“There’s nothing to be scared of, firefly,” he whispers, too close to my ear, making the hairs on my hands stand on end.
“I am not scared,” I hiss over my shoulder, my cheeks heating at the smirk he has on his face. “I just don’t like riding the wheel.”
“I see, anything you do like, riding?”
“That is so lame, even for you, slick.” I giggle, then turn to face the boys and Marcy. We reach the front of the line, and one kid is waiting in line before us, ticket in hand. He looks to be about the same age as the boys.
“You can’t ride the wheel without an adult,” the operator tells him. He looks back at us.
Marcy looks at the two of us. “I could ride with the three boys.” She shrugs. I want to object and tell her I’d be happy to, but I don’t trust myself enough to keep sane up there.
“I could do it,” I offer.
“Nah, I’m good,” Marcy insists, and I inwardly thank her.
“Okay, so you four go on, you two on the next one,” the operator informs us. “Even numbers,” he clarifies.
I look behind me. “Anyone wants to join us.” I am met with cocked brows and shaking of heads. “Okay, no, then.” I turn to the baskets of doom.
“You gonna be okay, firefly. I’ll be there to catch you if you fall,” Ember tells me, struggling to hide his amusement.
I watch the boys and Marcy climb into the basket, and when the next one arrives, I tentatively move forward. When I still in my steps, I feel a warm hand on the middle of my back, urging me along. “I’m here, Shelby. I’m not gonna let you fall.”
I step into the basket. My stomach churns, and I feel the bile rising to my throat. I take a seat and try to focus on my surroundings. Ember enters and takes a seat across me. He dominates the space, but my fear is larger. I try to breathe, but I feel like the more I do, the more nauseous I feel.
There is a jerk of the basket, and I let out a gasp. I hold onto the pole in the middle, only to have it rotate as we ascend. “Oh my God, I am going to die.”
“You’re not, just focus on the sights, don’t look down, don’t think of where you are. And let go of that fucking pole.” He pries my hand off it and holds it in my lap. “Breathe, firefly.”
Ember’s words are gentle, and I dare a look at him. He looks calm, collected, everything I am not. His hands are warm around mine. I settle into the feeling.
“Inhale, Exhale, Shelby. Focus on that, and hold onto my hand,” he reminds me. I lace my fingers with his as the basket lurches. I know we’re rising, but I breathe.
I can still see Drew laughing the first time we did this and him moving across the small space until his arms were wrapped around me. I can almost feel his kiss on my temple, the way he drew me closer, and his promise that I never had to do this again.
I’m doing it anyway, Drew. Brody wanted me to. I needed to.
I open my eyes, and Ember is staring at me, his dark eyes soft, in contrast to his firm grasp. “You’re okay,” he reminds me.
