Page 84 of The Wrong Game

“You can’t just take her out to dinner and a movie, can you?”

“Come on, you know that’s not my style,” I said with a scoff. Once Gemma texted back confirming I could see her after work on Wednesday, I smiled. “Go big or go home. Always.”

Doc shook his head, disappearing into the back office. “Good luck, kid.”

I tucked my phone away, floating back onto the cloud I’d been on since I left Gemma’s that morning. We’d been texting all day, and now that I had another date lined up, I felt like I was floating even higher.

I didn’t know how long I had her, how long she’d stay put without letting her past talk her out of whatever she was feeling. But I knew I wanted to peel back her layers, I wanted more, I wanted to know who hurt her and how to make that pain go away. But first, I had to gain her trust, and the first step in doing that was helping her face her fears.

Starting with heights.

Gemma

“I can’t do this.”

I watched in horror as the family who had waited in line ahead of us for the Tilt experience laughed and squealed in joy as they were leaned out over the city of Chicago. Tilt was a relatively new addition to the 360 Observation Deck, and approximately number four on my list of Things I Will Absolutely Never Do, Ever — right behind get a tattoo, eat oysters, and go hunting.

It was a death trap.

Here you are, in this perfectly stable building — although, up too high for my liking, if I’m being honest — and instead of taking in the beautiful view of the city from the normally safe vertical viewing window, you opt to instead be tilted out not once, not twice, butthreetimes until you’re at a thirty-degree angle looking practically straight down.

No, thank you.

“Youcando it,” Zach argued, massaging my shoulders like I was the quarterback about to go into the second half of a losing game. “It’ll be all of two minutes, and then it’ll be over.”

“Exactly. Why did we even pay for this again? If you wanted to scare the shit out of me, you could have just jumped out at me from behind a wall… for free.”

He chuckled, taking my weight into him as I watched the family be tilted forward even more. They shrieked happily as I said a Catholic prayer under my breath.

I wasn’t even Catholic.

“I’m not trying to scare you. I’m trying to help you face a fear. You said you wanted to, right?”

I nodded. “No.”

“You’re going to feel like such a badass after this,” Zach promised on another light laugh.

“Or,” I argued, holding up one finger. “I’m going to feel like throwing up and kicking you square in the groin region.”

Zach winced. “Please don’t do that.”

As much as I was terrified of what was about to happen, it was nice, standing there in Zach’s arms. It’d only been a couple of days since the game, but in a way, this felt like our firstrealdate — he asked me to come, came to my apartment to get me, we walked together, ate dinner beforehand.

And, I wasn’t trying to make him think I didn’t want him. That was a nice change, too.

I opened my mouth to retort to his comment, the ease of our banter comforting me marginally, but it was too late. The family ahead of us was already being tilted back up to standing, so any smart-ass comments I had died in my sticky throat at the realization that we were next.

“Oh, God, Zach,” I panicked. “I really don’t think I can do this.”

“Hey,” he said, turning me to face him while the family dismounted. “Look at me. We are perfectly safe. Nothing is going to happen other than you getting an amazing view of the city you love, okay? And I’ll be right beside you the whole time.”

I whimpered.

“Do you really want to walk away?” he asked, eyes searching mine. “If you really think you can’t do this, I’ll leave with you. We just have to turn around and weave back through the line. We can bail.”

“Okay, let’s go.”

Zach sighed, his shoulders deflating a little, but he smiled in understanding. “Okay.”