No, I’m not forgetting anything.
“Imagine I took you up in a helicopter, and as the world got smaller, it felt like me and you, Grace, it felt like we got bigger. And then I kissed you, just the two of us, in our own special world.”
Yeah, Harry could be pretty fricking romantic back in the day.
“Come on,” I say, tossing my hair and making for the helicopter before he can remind me … not that I need reminding. “Let’s get this hell over with, shall we?”
Harry’s laugh trails me as I walk to the edge of the helipad, standing at the bright yellow line markedDo Not Cross This Line. I want to tell them not to worry. I’d have zero problem turning away from this line and running as fast as my legs will carry me.
If it wasn’t for the goading jerk-off at my shoulder, maybe I would.
But whereas other men seem to not like it when I show this adventurous side of myself – it’s like it makes them feel less manly or some nonsense like that – Harry thrives on it.
He places his hand on the small of my back, holding firmly. It’s like all the nerve endings in my body congregate on that one spot, humming like a chorus.
I shift against him, wondering if it’s possible to get off just from fricking back-touching.
“Don’t worry,” he says. “I’ve got you.”
***
This isn’t happening. This isn’t happening. Oh, God, it’s really happening.
I’ve had my eyes closed since I got in and Harry got me strapped down. As the helicopter’s blade make hearing anything else impossible, I concentrate on taking deep breaths and trying to slow my rampaging heartbeat.
I remember today’s horoscope, telling me not to let fear rule me. But with the big metal beast of the helicopter rumbling in the moments before takeoff, it’s getting pretty difficult.
Harry reaches across and pats my knee. The inside of my eyelids are imprinted red with sunlight. I’m wearing the safety harness as an X shape on my chest and big chunky earphones that go right over my ears.
In the earphones, I hear Harry’s voice. “You’ve got this, Grace,” he murmurs. “I believe in you.”
“Ah!” I cry when the helicopter separates from the tarmac and starts jostling around in the air. My belly drops as we soar higher and higher, though I’m still not opening my eyes, no way. “Have I ever told you how much I hate you, bad boy, huh?”
He chuckles. “Once or twice, but if that’s your way of trying to scare me off, you might as well stop trying.”
“Jeez,” I mutter. “Jesus frickinghell. How high are we?”
“Not very,” he says. “Open your eyes. It’s really quite nice to look at. Not as nice as you, obviously, but …”
“Really, Harry? Pickup linesnow?”
“Hey, you’re clearly at your most vulnerable,” he says, with heavy sarcasm, in a joking tone. “I can’t think of a better opportunity.”
Despite everything, I start to laugh. And then the laughter turns a little manic as I let it replace my trepidation and holy-hell-I’m-in-the-sky fear.
“Open your eyes, Grace. I’m here for you.”
It takes a mammoth effort to do as he asks, but the laughter has calmed me down somewhat. I blink one eye open and then the other, looking across at Harry sitting in the pilot’s seat, deftly handling the controls.
“Okay, here’s the deal,” I gasp. “I’ll keep my eyes open if you keep both hands free for the controls, okay?”
He smirks, seemingly completely fricking ice-cold chill with the fact that he’s flying a helicopter. “I can’t promise that.”
I close my eyes, grinning. “Nuh-uh, you’ve got to. Or I’m keeping my eyes closed the entire time.”
“Okay, okay.” I open my eyes again to find him chuckling. “You drive a hard bargain, Nancy Drew.”
This man is so full of surprises.
