“Trust me, if this place weren’t crawling with people…” He trailed off with a low moan, a shining look in his eye.
“Are you this insatiable with everyone?”
Blake stepped back as though considering her question. “I haven’t been with everyone,” he said, “so I really can’t say.”
Julia stuck out her tongue. “You know what I mean.” But she also knew that his refusal to answer her teasing meant that what to her was unusual—an appetite that seemed to click, that grew the more they had each other—was just another lay for him. The fact that she thought it meant something both inside and outside the bedroom didn’t mean he was thinking the same thing. She had to stop herself from going down that path before she inevitably wound up hurt. It was time to stop thinking about Blake and start thinking about the fact that she was about to jump off a giant cliff with nothing but fabric wings holding her up.
Because even that was less terrifying than facing the truth she had realized that morning when she opened her eyes and saw his body practically glowing from the sun diffused through the curtains: how hard she had already fallen, and the crash that she knew was to come.
She must have been frowning because Blake cupped her chin in his hand and raised her eyes to meet his. “Not this insatiable with anyone,” he whispered, and she felt something inside her trip and stumble before her heart could resume its beat. “You said before that you wanted to feel what it would be like to fall.”
“I wasn’t serious,” she said. “I was talking about jumping off a waterfall. You know, hypothetical. Poetic. That sort of thing.”
“And I’m here to tell you that you can really do the things you want.”
“I don’t even know how,” she protested weakly.
“You don’t need to. They’ll take care of everything for us—the only thing you have to do is enjoy the moment.”
“I’m not very good at that,” she grumbled, well aware that she was stalling so she wouldn’t have to peer over the edge and think about what Blake was asking her to do. The leap he wanted her to take.
“Aren’t you ready to go flying?”
“More like falling,” she said, and shook her head. She couldn’t tell him that she already had. Not through the sky, of course. But in the ways that mattered. Whether she wanted to or not.
The giant contraptions lay in wait, folded before they would take to the air. They looked small and frighteningly simple. Julia swallowed hard and looked away, her legs starting to shake.
But when she looked at Blake, he was beaming, excitement radiating off him in waves. Seeing his face, she knew that she couldn’t say no. If she was getting off this mountain, it was going to be by jumping.
And not for Blake—not really. If she was being honest, she knew it was for herself, too. That was why he was doing this, for him but also for her. How could she live with herself if she walked down the same way they’d come, passing all the people on their way up for the flight? They would know that she was the one who’d chickened out, who’d gone all the way to the edge but been unable to throw herself off. The one who looked and watched and waited but never did, taking notes while other people lived.
She was in Brazil. In Rio, the most beautiful city she’d ever been in, with the most beautiful man she’d ever been with, who never failed to surprise her. If she wanted something new, something to shake up her life, some way to prove to herself that she was more than the quiet, passive single girl who did her work and then went home—well then, this was it, wasn’t it? This was completely insane, so out of character she barely recognized herself.
And then their names were being called and it really was it. There was no turning back. She followed Blake and the man with the ponytail to the edge of a clearing, the peak of the mountain where the ground dropped off and all that surrounded them was sky.
“Julia?” the man asked, elongating the vowels so that suddenly her name sounded beautiful, alive, like some kind of bird already in flight. She nodded tentatively, as though waiting for someone else to rush up and say there had been a mistake, she was somebody else, there was some reason why she couldn’t go through with this. She was lying, she was an imposter, she was a high school math teacher from Chicago and not this bold and surprising woman about to do something so unthinkable she felt like her brain had completely stopped working the minute he said her name.
But he was off on a series of safety instructions she could barely keep track of. They were each going to be strapped in with an instructor who would be flying the glider; all they had to do was enjoy the ride.
Julia tried to laugh along with him, but all that came out was a nervous titter. Blake rested his palm on the small of her back, a simple, calming touch to let her know he was there.
But then he wasn’t, because they were being divided up and introduced to the instructors they were going to jump with. Julia wanted to protest that this wasn’t part of the arrangement—Blake never said they wouldn’t be jumping together! How could she do this without him?
But she had to, she realized. This wasn’t about them doing something together. It was also about her—alone, solo, independent—and who she wanted to be when she went home. Blake may have gotten her up the mountain, but she was determined to get off it without his help.
She took a deep breath and slid his hand off her back. She was going to be fine.
Blake was paired with a tall man whose name she didn’t catch but who seemed to be Blake’s new best friend, giving him high fives and laughing loudly. Julia’s instructor was a petite woman with a mass of curly hair named Suzi whom she didn’t believe could possibly navigate such a giant and unruly bird. Suzi was all business, cool as could be, like this was the ten thousandth jump she’d done. She had her own harness with carabineers that hooked onto Julia’s so that the two were lined up unbearably close, the puff of her ponytail hitting Julia’s chin whenever she moved.
“It’ll be more comfortable when we’re in the air, don’t worry,” Suzi said, as though she knew what Julia was feeling because every other person she’d taken out had felt the same exact thing. It made her feel almost silly for her nerves. She reminded herself again to stop freaking out and start enjoying herself, like Blake was. He was asking all sorts of questions about how the harnesses worked, where they strapped in, and how his guide was going to steer.
“You’ve done this a few times before?” Julia laughed nervously, trying to make light of her question even as she sought reassurances from this tanned and perfectly toned woman who now held her life in her hands.
“Eight times already this morning.” Suzi stopped what she was doing with the harness and looked at Julia, her sunglasses resting on her forehead. “Don’t worry, honey, once you get in the air it’s going to be the most amazing thing you’ve ever done.”
The most amazing thing you’ve ever done. Julia repeated the words in her head like a mantra. Then they stepped together, one body with four legs, toward the edge of the mountain, and the words became a frenzied pitch in her mind, just so she didn’t keel over and take this woman with her.
“You go first!” Blake called behind her, flashing her a giant thumbs up.
She flipped him the finger instead.
His guide roared with laughter.
“He’s making you do this?” Suzi asked, probably having seen the same dynamic dozens of times before.
“No, I want to,” Julia said emphatically, as though if she said the words they would come true. Nobody makes me do anything. The newfound resolve gave her legs the strength to keep standing as she and Suzi practiced moving together for the run they would have to take to lift off.
“We’re going to start at the edge of the ramp,” Suzi explained, gesturing toward a wooden platform extending beyond the rocky mountaintop. “We’ll run seven steps together, starting with your right foot forward. It’s important that we keep our strides together. Okay?”