Page 24 of The Best Wild Idea (Off-Limits #3)

Everything starts happening too quickly for my comfort.

The plane door latches shut.

I’m sandwiched in between Jett’s knees on the floor of the plane, both of us sitting near the door.

Silas is sitting between Ethan’s knees right next to me, and their long legs are sprawled out in front of them on either side of us with the side of Silas’ body pressed into mine.

It’s cramped in here, and despite everything that’s happened between us, I’m thankful to feel him beside me.

Some familiarity in a moment filled with heart-pumping adrenaline and the real possibility of sudden death just minutes away.

The back of the pilot’s head is directly in front of me.

His hands fly over a dashboard of foreign instruments, flipping switches at random, and adjusting his headphones, then his mouthpiece.

I’ve never seen the view out of a plane windshield while taking off, and, if I’m being honest, I’m not entirely sure that I want to.

I prefer to be in the back with my eyes closed, praying as hard as I can.

Once the engine fires up, the plane jolts forward before falling into a steady hum, slowly coursing toward the runway.

Every fiber of my being is screaming at me to jump from the plane now , while it’s still on solid ground.

Trek, another guy we met back at the hangar during our safety briefing, is sitting on the floor of the plane too, hunched near the door. I’m not sure what his role is besides operating the door and making sure we’re all fastened properly to each other before careening our bodies outside.

I shudder, realizing that it would take just one of these thick straps or buckles to malfunction for me to dislodge from Jett and plummet to the ground alone, without a backup parachute on my own body to save me.

I nestle in closer to my tandem partner, more thankful now for his solid frame behind me.

I realize that it’s been a minute since I was tucked in so closely to a man like this, and I’d prefer the circumstances to be so much different than they are right now.

The pilot pushes forward on the throttle, steadily picking up speed, making my stomach dip back into my spine. The propellers roar, and I can hardly hear anyone around me as the tiny engine starts racing us faster down the runway.

I’m having an out-of-body experience. I can’t possibly be sitting in Switzerland, flying down a runway, completely out of my own control in this moment.

The nose of the plane starts to lift, much faster than any large commercial jet I’ve been on, and within seconds, we’re airborne.

My ears pop as the wheels dislodge from the runway and begin to glide up toward the clouds, racing faster as we really pick up in altitude, suddenly tipping left to avoid the mountain range that has been growing steadily closer through the windshield.

It feels like I’m being pushed into the floor under a deep surge of water.

My head spins from the sheer force of gravity, and I lean into Jett as the Gs take hold, dragging us down from below.

I close my eyes. But that’s a bad idea when a stronger wave of dizziness rolls through me.

I force my eyes back open, but keep my gaze focused on the interior of the plane which seems to be spinning slightly with vertigo.

“Look out the window!” Jett calls into my ear, like he can tell from behind that I’m losing focus to brain fog right now from the force of gravity as we push up toward the sky.

I obey.

Looking out the little window next to me, I’m instantly hit with a postcard view sent from heaven — like a swift spiritual awakening has taken hold of anything left in me.

The tiny plane’s interior fades from sight and the world around us takes over.

Jagged, snow-capped mountain peaks, as far as my eyes can see, flank two turquoise lakes below.

Each body of water reflects the mountain range beside it, and the sun beyond that, like a perfect mirror image against the smooth blue surface.

I hold my hand up to the window, comparing the color of my grandmother’s turquoise ring to the blue-green hue of the water.

Grant was right. It’s a near-perfect match.

I’ve never seen anything so awe-inspiring, and for a few precious minutes, I forget why we’re on this plane at all, simply grateful to be here, losing sight of the fact that I won’t be sitting on it when it comes in for a landing.

I turn to look out the other window and catch Silas watching me instead of the view. He breaks into a grin, knowing he’s been caught, then quickly squeezes my forearm before letting go, just like he did on his plane yesterday, except this time it’s oddly comforting instead of just plain annoying.

“I’m glad you decided to come!” he shouts over the ruckus of the engine. “You won’t regret jumping!”

My insides twist at the word jumping, quickly bringing my body and mind back into the reality of why we’re on this plane. To jump. Or, in my case, to fall out the side once Jett makes up his mind to go.

I force a tight-lipped smile, but continue to look out the window without answering.

“Twelve hundred meters,” the pilot says into his mouthpiece that feeds the speakers in the back of the plane.

Jett jostles me between his knees.

“Feel good?” he shouts into my ear. I can’t see him, but I can hear the smile in his voice.

I lean back and yell, “Maybe? I don’t know!”

“Eighteen hundred meters,” the pilot states calmly into loudspeakers a few minutes later.

Silas grins at me like a little boy.

“You’ve got this!” he shouts.

“What were we thinking?” I yell back, but the noise of the engine devours my voice.

“That we wanted to live!” he shouts. Then he winks at me, reminding me that this is what Grant had truly wanted for both of us.

“To live ! Not die !” I mouth the last word, nervously.

“Don’t say die !” he yells, clasping a hand over his mouth after the last word is out, but his eyes still sparkle over the top of his hand, like he knows the superstition is mine, and only mine.

I widen my eyes back at him. Insufferable Silas . Now is not the time to be making jokes about dying.

“Twenty-four hundred meters,” the pilot announces.

My stomach takes another lurch toward the ground nearly eight thousand feet below. I thought it would take much longer to reach proper jumping altitude, but I’m quickly realizing that we’re going to be hopping out sooner than I hoped.

“Oh my God!” I yell at Silas, then repeat it again and again, leaning back into Jett.

Sixteen hundred meters to go until we’re cruising at just over thirteen thousand feet when it’ll be time to jump.

“Oh dear God what are we doing?” My heart pumps wildly while I study the latch on the door just a foot away.

The lakes outside are quickly turning into mere puddles while we climb up into the sky.

Jett begins tightening the straps across my shoulders, pulling me closer.

I feel like a rag doll being dragged into his body, as close as he can get me, but it still doesn’t feel close enough, knowing he’s the only thing saving me from plummeting.

Ethan adjusts their straps and I watch as Silas allows himself to be jostled around, getting them as close as possible, appearing completely unbothered.

If he’s nervous, his face doesn’t give him away.

Instead, he looks like he’s about to take a joyride around the block on a moped, thoroughly enjoying himself, instead of about to fall toward earth from thirteen thousand feet up in the air.

The pilot’s voice comes over the loudspeaker again. “Three thousand meters, and the weather is holding. Prepare the doors.”

Prepare the doors?

“One thousand more!” Jett yells into my ear.

Trek pulls down a pair of plastic goggles over his eyes, then unhooks a huge latch from the door.

He places one hand on a wide lever, grinning at me.

My face twists into what feels like a polite smile while I try not to imagine what it’s going to feel like when that thing slides open across its track with us sitting right next to it, though at this point, it’s unavoidable.

Even if I decide at the last minute not to jump, Silas will.

That door is going to open up either way.

I might be sick.

“You first!” Trek shouts over the engine, pointing squarely at me.

I throw Silas a panicked look, but Jett is already scooting us toward the door. My legs turn to Jell-O and my heart pounds. My whole body is launching itself into fight or flight mode.

“Oh my God, oh my God,” I repeat to myself, too quiet for anyone else to hear over the roar of the engine.

Every time Jett scoots, I’m brought closer and closer to the door that’s about to open.

I start disconnecting my brain from my body as everything in me instinctively fights against what’s about to happen.

“Jesus Christ, what the hell have I gotten myself into?” I mutter under my breath. I imagine Grant here instead of Silas. Knowing I’d probably still be back in the hangar if he was.

“It’s going to be okay, Jules!” Silas yells behind me. “You wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t!”

“Holy shit. Holy shit,” I repeat to myself, gulping in air, trying to stay calm.

I can’t hear him, but I can tell from the way Jett’s body bounces against me that he’s laughing; then he goes rigid again when the pilot’s voice comes over the speaker one more time.

“Thirty-seven hundred meters.”

I look back at Si, feeling totally helpless.

“I hate you!” I yell at him, breaking into a nervous grin, forced out by a hurricane of terrified energy welling up inside me. I don’t know whether to laugh or cry. I might do both.

“See you on the dance floor!” he yells back.

That wide grin is the last thing I see before I turn to the door and pull my goggles down over my eyes. Terror mixes with forced excitement. If I’m going to die, I may as well try to enjoy this.

The pit in my stomach starts spiraling over and over toward my toes while every part of me trembles with adrenaline.

“Four thousand meters,” the pilot says steadily into the speakers and my stomach spins out of control.

Then Trek gives me a nod before pulling the door wide open.