Page 55 of Ice To Meet You

She looked at me, then around at the other zip liners, her eyes as round as tree trunks. “Shouldn’t the staff do that?”

I chuckled. “I’ve geared up a few times before, I promise. Maybe they can tell.” Truthfully, I’d called ahead. Though I hadn’t been here before, when I told the staff my name, they recognised me. As long as we signed hefty waivers and attended the safety briefing, they’d allowed me to organise mine and Esmé’s gear.

I stepped into my harness. As I tightened the straps, she stared at me intently. Her gaze set off every nerve under myskin. Happy with my fit, I reached behind to hand her the smaller harness. “Your turn.”

“What? I have to put it on myself?”

“Sure, just like I did.”

She glanced around at the other participants as they stepped into their own equipment.

“I … um … okay.” Esmé stepped into her harness, tethering the strap around her waist.

“See, it’s not that hard. Now you tighten it a little.”

Her hand flew to the clip at her navel.

“Not too tight, but it should be snug,” I said.

She tugged at the strap. “Not too tight?”

I nodded. “Snug, but comfortable.” I adjusted my own gear, and her eyes followed the movement.

After a pause, she fumbled with the fastening, glancing around at the instructors helping the other zip liners. “Do you think you could …” Her voice faltered. “Help me?”

My chest tightened at her request. “Of course.” I stepped closer, the space between us vanishing. I hovered my outstretched hands somewhere near her waist. “May I?”. My heart pulsed hard in my chest.

Esmé nodded, and I reached for the strap, tightening it slowly. Her waist was smaller than I’d imagined, and the warmth of her skin radiated through the fabric of her top. My fingers lingered as I double-checked the fit and she watched me, her lips parted slightly.

Happy with her waist buckle, I dropped to my knees to adjust the straps on her thighs. The curve of her legs was within reach, her skin tantalisingly close. I swallowed hard, forcing my attention on the harness

“May I?” I asked again, my voice a little huskier this time.

Her cheeks flushed a light pink. “Please.”

As I worked, her gaze burned down at me. When I glanced up, I swear she wasn’t breathing.

“All done,” I said, standing—needing the distance. “Perfect,” I added, running my eyes over her one last time. “You’re all set.”

She wrinkled her nose and shoved the helmet I’d given her onto her head. “If ‘all set’ means completely terrified, then you’re right.”

Grimacing, she spun on her boots and trudged down the path to the course like I’d just handed her a one-way ticket to walk the plank.

I watched her go, butterflies in my stomach. I adored the way she put a brave face on her fear, But I didn’t know what worried me more‚—navigating her safely through the ziplines or my ability to keep my mind on the course.

20

ESMÉ

The gravel crunched under my feet as I used my breath to slow my heartbeat. I couldn't figure out what caused it to race so hard. Was it the thought of getting high in the trees or Matteo’s hands working on the straps at my thighs only moments ago?

If it was fear, the way he looked up at me—his dark eyes alive—only added to the jittery energy in my belly.

We passed through the dappled light of the forest in silence. He was a step or two behind me. Even with the distance, I was aware of his body moving through the air. Of every sound his boots made on the path. Of every breath he took.

“Es, wait,” he said, his voice low. “Are you feeling okay?”

I pulled up physically and mentally at his use of my nickname. Only Luc and Iris called me ‘Es.’ But before I could reply and tell him that even a plate of diamond encrusted pasta couldn’t make up for the ordeal he was about to put me through, we came to a stack of logs in a clearing. Someone had nailed them together like a giant’s dinner table.

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