Page 62 of Love Me Like You Do

“Start with the first one that comes to mind.”

“All right. My buddies and I were into dirt biking. One day, right when it was time for everyone to go home, I came up with the brilliant idea to ride our bikes out of the top floor window of the barn.”

“What?”

He gave her a look that said,See?“Most of us landed okay in a big mound of hay, but one guy…he broke his arm. So, you can see why she couldn’t stand me. I was always doing shit like that. By high school, I was stealing my dad’s Piper Cub…” He winced. Looked physically ill. “Well, that’s a story for another day.” He got up. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Get back here. What was that?”

But he just kept on going, closing the door behind him.

Well, did she go after him?

Or did she leave him alone?

ChapterTwelve

Cole plummeted.

It was a heady experience, the weightlessness, the clusters of lights and velvet mountains capped with glittering white snow. One by one, his friends’ parachutes deployed, the familiar whomp triggering the anticipation of a landing. No matter how many times they BASE jumped, they never knew what forces of nature might fuck them up.

First, Jaime landed, the chute dragging him into a jog. Then, Declan. Then, Cole. Elation soared through him. Laughing uncontrollably, he high-fived his buddies, but the look on Declan’s face jerked the joy right out of him. He whipped around to see Booker coming in too fast. Way too fucking fast.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Cole shouted, but no sound came out of his mouth. He tried again and again, certain if only his friend could hear him, he could stop the inevitable impact. He screamed, clawing at his throat to release the warning. Instead, he watched in horror as his friend hit the ground.

His legs crumpled beneath him.

In a cold sweat, Cole tried to run, but his legs were tangled in the parachute.Fuck. Fuck. He frantically kicked—

Miraculously, he was freed. The relief was so intense that he jerked up—only to find Hailey kneeling on the mattress, her cool hand on his damp forehead. Instantly, he calmed.

“You all right?” Her tone was gentle, but she had panic in her eyes.

Heart thundering, he dropped his head to the pillow. The tightness in his chest made it hard to take a full breath, but damn, was he glad to see her. “Sorry.” He choked on the last syllable.

She took his shaky hand firmly in hers and snuggled up against him. “It’s all right.” She smelled like coconut, her skin soft, her voice soothing. Gently, she ran her fingertips along his bare arm. “I got you. You’re all right.”

Once the worst of it passed, he let out a breath before covering his eyes with a hand. “Shit. I woke you up. You think I freaked out the girls?”

“You weren’t that loud, and I was awake.” With her fingertips, she scraped the hair off his forehead. “You want to talk about it?”

“No.” Not when he was still brushing off the shadows. He rolled to see her. “What’re you doing up so late?”

“Couldn’t sleep.”

“You worried about tomorrow?”

“So worried. But it’s not just that. I have so much on my mind.”

“Okay, let’s talk about it. A sports therapist once gave me the best advice. All those worries and fears and doubts that keep rolling through your mind? Get them out of your body. Either write them down in a journal or confide in someone. Just get them out.”

“You journal?”

“No.”

“Who do you talk to?”