Don’t fuck this up. She’s watching.
She’d sworn she wouldn’t, that she was pretending I didn’t exist for the rest of the trip, according to Leah, who told Pax, who told me like we were back in junior high or some shit, but I knew better.
Rope within reach, I let go of the ski boat’s tow rope with one hand and stretched toward it. My weight tipped my board enough to jostle me, and for a split second I was sure I was about to get a face full of the ocean.
Concentrate.
I blocked out the Athena, Rachel, Pax, everything that owned any piece of my brain besides the water and my board.
It was go time.
Balancing my weight, I grabbed for the rope…and caught it. The sound of cheers from the boat vaguely registered as I slid the rope through my gloved hands slowly, careful to maintain the speed I needed to stay above the water.
I reached the handle and shouted. Holding tightly to the handle of the ship’s tow rope, I let the ski boat rope go. I would have fist pumped in victory if I didn’t know it would land me face-first in the water.
Laughing, I whipped my board to the left, then fantailed and shifted back to the right. Holy shit. I’m wakeboarding behind a fucking cruise ship.
This part was relatively easy compared to what I was about to do, which was scary as shit but equally epic. Locating the carabiner, I pulled the handle to my chest and clipped it to the corresponding hook on my harness.
“If this doesn’t work, it’s going to really fucking suck,” I muttered to myself. I was locked in, hooked onto the cord that connected to the back of a ship currently going about thirty knots. What could possibly go wrong?
A whole hell of a lot.
Before my brain could go through the hundreds of things that could go wrong—which all included me breaking ankles, legs, a neck—I said a fervent prayer and then pulled the cord for my chute.
A rustle of fabric grew to a roar, and I became the center of a tug-of-war between the Athena and my chute. Every muscle in my body strained to stay upright as the chute deployed.
Don’t hit the water. Don’t hit the water, I begged silently. If my chute took on water, I was fucked. And most likely dead unless I could unsnap fast enough.
I jolted upward as the chute snapped behind me, and air rushed from my lungs in relief. I was airborne. Looking down toward the boat, I saw Pax cheering me on, jumping so high I almost thought he’d go overboard.
“Fuck yes!” I yelled, my arms up in victory.
That was the only moment I gave myself before locating the handles of the parasail as I rose higher, climbing above the height of the Athena. A crowd had gathered near the landing site, and I hoped they’d watch as I set this baby down on the deck—instead of seeing a bloody mess in the propellers below.
For the second time during the stunt, I laughed. Now I was parasailing behind a fucking cruise ship. Unbelievable.
A minute later, with two of the Renegades manning the winch, I started to descend toward the deck. Rachel had been right—her setup was flawless.
Just like she was.
With nothing to do but watch as they reeled me in, I scanned the crowd, looking for her familiar frame, which finally came into focus when I was about thirty feet from the deck.
She came!
Her arms folded across her chest, she bit her lower lip, her worry apparent in every tense line of her gorgeous face as her gaze flickered between me and the winch team. Not only had she come, but she was worried about me.
Clearing the railing by at least five feet, I concentrated on landing. Gabe and Alex, my snowboarding partners, raced forward as my feet hit the deck and unsnapped the chute behind me, letting it catch on the metal railing so it didn’t carry me off the ship again.
Flawless.
I unhooked from the tow rope to the thunderous applause of the crowd. It took all of a minute for Bobby to stick a camera in my face, but I looked past the giant black life sucker and met Rachel’s eyes.
At least ten feet and a dozen or more people separated us as she stood on the steps that led to the next deck, but it felt like we were the only two there, maybe the only two in the world.
I vaguely heard the voices calling to me, asking me how I felt, what the hardest part had been, if I’d been scared, but all I saw was her. For the smallest moment, her eyes weren’t full of hatred but something I was scared to call pride.
“Thank you,” I mouthed, knowing she couldn’t hear me.
A small smile curved her lips, and she nodded once.
A body slammed into me, wrapping its—no, her—arms around my neck. “You did it!”
Zoe’s voice was like ice water through my veins. Of all the fucking timing. I peeled her arms from my neck and smiled down at her—it wasn’t her fault my dick wandered where it shouldn’t have. “I did. Will you help them set up for Pax? They have to get the rope back out there so he can get on the ship.”
She smiled up at me, oblivious to the fact that our time together, if that’s what it was called, was over, and walked away.
When I looked up to Rachel, the cool, closed-off look was back on her face, and I cursed inwardly. She looked away and shook her head, then turned around and walked up the steps.
“Nova, we need you!” Bobby called as he set up an interview station.
I sighed in the direction Rachel had taken, but I wasn’t defeated. For just the smallest moment, I’d seen past the walls she’d built against me. For the tiniest millisecond, we’d been connected again, and it sucked to have lost it, but now I knew it was possible.