Page 62 of Ice To Meet You

From this spot? Hell no! But getting my feet back on the ground was among my top priorities. The click of a carabiner sounded out behind me, and Matteo stepped away. His chest moved a little faster than before as he checked the safety line.

I watched him work, my mind and body racing. “And your grandfather has no idea?”

He shrugged. “The world I inhabit is small. Unless you’re really looking for me, I’m hard to find.”

I huffed a breath. “With your ego, I doubt that.”

He looked at me, his wide eyes heavy with a touch of what looked like sadness. “What I mean is that I’m niche. I don’t come up on your average FYP and my grandfather only uses a smartphone in the event of an emergency. Besides, I spend little time with him and my grandmother. They don’t know.”

My chest tightened at the weight in his voice. I wanted to hug him. Instead, I tried to lift the mood. “MattitudeX?” I asked. “Isn’t that a bit, I don’t know, Gen Z?”

He laughed, and I pulled my lips into a smile.

“It wasn’t my idea. My friend, Antonio, created the profile and loaded up that first video. It went viral, so I couldn't really change it.”

The wind whipped up again and Matteo looked at the sky. “The clouds are building. We should get down. Do you want me to go first?”

“No. I’ve got this.” I wasn’t sure where my bravery had come from, but the crinkles at the corners of his eyes were my reward.

“Good. I’ll wait on the platform. This is a long run, so I won't be able to hear when you get to the end. I'll listen to the wire. When I hear nothing, I'll join you.”

Just as Matteo promised, the ride down was long and fast, and I let out a whoop as I went. All my fears from earlier had dissipated, and while I didn’t plan on spending time up high every weekend, I’d enjoyed the challenge.

Maybe the feeling of freedom currently coursing through my veins was why Matteo appeared younger when we first met. He didn’t allow day-to-day troubles to weigh him down. He lived and loved his life unapologetically.

All too soon, the end of the line came into view. A small crowd of folk milled below the final platform, and they looked up as I squealed down the wire. They must be Matteo’s fan club gathered to worship at the altar of the great “MattitudeX”.

With a giggle, I pulled at the platform, reaching out to grab the handhold. Only I badly mis-timed my arrival and missed it. I flailed around at the mercy of gravity as I slid backwards, trying to slow my descent.After what felt like millennia, I came to a stop about ten meters short of the platform, dangling awkwardly in midair.

As the wind buffeted me, I spun around; the gust blowing me in circles. “Merde,” I hissed. I squirmed in my harness, trying to turn myself back toward the platform, but the line and gravity had other plans.

I reached up to haul myself along, cursing myself forabandoning my gym membership. But for every centimetre I moved forward, I moved back at least half again. Getting nowhere fast, I tried anew, but all I did was encourage my shorts to ride up further, giving myself a giant wedgie.

As I wriggled, trying to get a handhold on the wire, I felt a sudden slip of fabric, a burn, and then cool air hit my skin. I froze. What the hell just happened?And why did my bottom feel like someone had attacked me with a branding iron?

I reached down, but with gloves on, the only clue as to what was going on was searing pain. I peered below, suddenly very aware of the group of folks on the ground. Amused eyes met mine, and a couple of people laughed and pointed. I couldn’t quite hear what they said, but their wide grins flipped my stomach. When somebody sent me a wolf whistle, my eyes widened.

Was I hanging twenty meters up with my bottom exposed?

Before I could figure out what to do, a sharp squeal rang out from the wire, followed by a vibration down the metal. My heart kicked into gear. Now that I’d stopped, Matteo had no way of hearing me. Without sound or movement, he must’ve assumed I’d reached the platform and was already on his way down the wire to meet me!

I turned my head, twisting my body just in time to spot him speeding through the trees. His focused expression shifted to wide eyed and wide mouthed terror as he approached. I was right in his path, and he was coming in for a touchdown. A slam dunk of mammoth proportions.

In pure panic, I twisted round, facing directly into his path. “Matteo!” I squeaked, as if that would help. He'd lost a little momentum, and he opened his mouth as if to shout, but the words were lost to the wind.

I squeezed my eyes shut, pressed my knees together and braced for impact. What if I pinged off the line and catapulted through the trees? What if I plummeted to a humiliating death, buttocks bare and bleeding out on the forest floor?

My life—and entire wasted dating history—flashed before me and when he hit, the collision knocked the breath from my lungs. For a second, I was sure we were doomed. But pressure around my waist and hot breath at my neck woke me out of my frozen state.

Slowly, I cracked one eye open, seeing Matteo’s stubble lined cheek close to mine. He fought to steady his racing breath. I opened both eyes and looked down. Matteo clung to me like a spider monkey, his legs wrapped firmly around my waist.

“Merda,” he groaned, his voice low and heavy in my ear. I pulled the top of my body away from his, letting go of the harness to survey the damage. He did the same, wincing as he shook his gloved hand. “Are you okay?” he asked.

I blinked at him, barely registering the question. “AmIokay? What about you? How did you even stop? You said there were no brakes on these things.” I prodded at my pulley.

With a wry smile, he held up his glove. The leather at his thumb had worn to threads. He winked at me. “I’m not just a pretty face.” With a wince, he pulled off his glove, dropping it to the ground below.

I took his wrist, turning his hand over. “Matteo, don’t joke. You could’ve seriously hurt yourself.” I traced the red patch on his palm with one finger.

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