Page 59 of Nitro

My gaze sweeps across her swaying breasts to where her perfect ass wiggles in the air. Oh, she’s good. I’m almost tempted to give up on this plan, but I’ve got an ulterior motive. If we’re going to stay together, then I need to know that she’s willing to do something outrageous from time to time.

“I’ve never skydived before, but I’ve always wanted to do it. According to the brochure, you’ll be jumping with a licensed instructor. You won’t be alone. These guys are professionals. I know jumping from a plane sounds risky, but it’s not. People do it every day.”

“I don’t know…” She bites her bottom lip.

“I’ve got a backup option too.”

“Okay, what’s that?”

“Heli-skiing.”

“Heli-no!”

“Fine. Then we’re doing skydiving.” I grab my phone and punch in the number. A perky young woman answers on the first ring. I book a time for later today, and then end the call. “See, simple. It’s going to be awesome. We can buy a video of our jumps and rewatch it whenever we want.”

“This is insane.”

“It’s who I am.”

“What does that mean?” She plops down on her heels, finally realizing her seductive pose won’t work.

“Have you ever felt like your life was out of control?”

“About two years into my marriage, yes. I knew something was terribly wrong, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. I didn’t have the vocabulary yet to understand what was happening to me.”

“Did you do anything during that time that gave you a sense of control?”

“Other than wolfing down cupcakes and guzzling wine?”

“Stress eating counts. Instead of food and booze, I go bull riding or ice climbing or volcano surfing.”

“That last one sounds impossible.” She folds her arms under her breasts. My mouth waters, but I manage to tear my gaze away before I get too distracted. I clear my throat and will my dick to calm down. Maybe if she heard about some of my adventures, she’d be more inclined to join me.

“Volcano surfing is legit. Picture this, Leon, Nicaragua. 2016. Cerro Negro volcano.” I pause to remember how much fun I had before continuing, “The rush you get when you’re racing down the side of a volcano is impossible to describe. There’s so much shit that can kill you. Rough, volcanic ash can cut you to pieces. Poisonous gas wafts through the air, just waiting to suffocate your next breath. You could be hit by molten lava. Almost got nailed by a hunk of lava on one of my runs. That was a close call.”

“Nitro, you’re batshit crazy.”

“That’s what I’m trying to tell you. This is me. I do this shit all the time. It’s…” I stop talking so I can get the emotion in my voice under control.

“What?” she asks softly.

“It’s how I feel alive.”

“Don’t you feel that way with me, without all these dangerous sports?”

“I spent so many years trapped in uncontrollable situations. When I’m out there, facing down death, it’s like I’m in command. Death can’t hurt me.”

“But it can.”

“But it hasn’t,” I counter. “Yes, these sports are potentially deadly, but they also make me want to live.”

“What do you mean? Doesn’t everyone want to live?”

I don’t respond even though I know the answer. The first time Scar accused me of having a death wish, I laughed it off. Then I thought about what he said. There was a kernel of truth to his accusation. I’m not looking to die, but if it happens, so be it.

“Nitro, I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you.” She throws herself into my arms. I hold her close. Feeling her fear makes me feel like an ass. But when I really think about it, would lying to her be any better? No. It wouldn’t.

“You don’t have to jump if you don’t want to. But I’m going,” I say firmly.