Page 23 of Well, Actually
Becoming the human embodiment of my most terrifying nightmares, Cooper does the worst thing he ever could to me: he opens the door at the top of the stairs and tugs me through.
Out onto the roof.
The wind grips my shoulders and neck, threatening to yank me to the edge of this dangerously tall building. My watering eyes scan my sky-high surroundings, taking in a large, glossy, bug-like machine in the center of the roof. It takes me a few seconds to realize through the fuzz of sticky panic that it’s a helicopter.
“Ready for the best view of the city?” Cooper says enthusiastically, still gripping my wrist and drawing me toward the deathtrap with propellers.
Oh my god, this is how I’m going to die.
“Absolutely fucking not,” I choke out, a mortifying crack in my voice as tears blur my vision. I rip my arm from him, wrapping it around my middle and tucking into myself, crouching down and balancing on my toes in an attempt to lower my chances of falling from these horrifying heights to the concrete below.
“Are you… are you messing with me?” Cooper’s question comes to me over the wind, the words distorted through my panic.
I manage to shake my head, a surge of dizziness lurching my stomach as more fear floods my body.
“Eva, are you okay?” Cooper says, voice softer. The wind quiets, a sudden sturdy presence blocking out the harshly close sun. I peek over my arm to see him squatting next to me, face taut and lined with confusion and worry. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?”
I rub my head against my kneecaps, taking deep, rattling breaths as tears burn my cheeks. “H-heights,” I splutter. “Can’t.”
With a determined grip, I feel Cooper’s arms go around me. I let out a shocked gasp as he gathers me to his body, lifting us to standing. I sway for a moment, hands clawing into his suit jacket, head tucking under his chin and nose pressing against his chest. I breathe in the scent of him, and I make a mental note to be furious about how good he smells and how nice he feels later when I’m safe on normal ground.
Still holding me, he guides us back toward the door. Hearing the click of the lock and feeling my feet back on the landing of the staircase creates a whoosh of relief through my muscles that threatens to lay me to the floor. The panic stains my veins, tattooing my skin, and a tiny, choked whimper pulls from my throat.
“I’m sorry. So sorry,” Cooper coos, too much tenderness in his voice. “Please don’t cry, Eva. We won’t go.” His hands cup my jaw, thumbs brushing away the tears tracking down my cheeks.
“Get off me,” I say, pushing him away. I find a surge of fortitude fueled by embarrassment. I trip down the steps on wobbly legs, falling and hitting my ass on the edge of a few of them. I let out a stream of curses as Cooper pounds down the staircase behind me. He steps around me to the bottom, gripping my shoulders and hauling me up.
“Calm down, Eva. It’s okay. I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t tell me to calm down,” I grit out, indignation flaring. It’s the only feeling that can take a deeper root than my fear. “Telling someone to calm down literally has never had the intended effect.”
“You seem to be feeling better,” he says, a kind laugh in his voice as his gaze traces my face, hand brushing back my wind-ruined hair. I choose to resent that kindness.
I pull away from him, darting for the elevators. I slap the button a few hundred times before the doors finally open. Cooper slips in right as they’re closing. We ride down in silence, our chests heaving through jagged breaths like we sprinted a mile.
When the doors slide open, I bolt toward the exit, but Cooper’s right on my heels. I’m too disoriented to figure out where the closest subway station is, so I stop at the curb to flag down a stray cab. This man is going to cost me an arm and a leg just to escape him.
“I’m sorry,” Cooper repeats, defeat in his voice and etched in his face. “I had no idea you were afraid of heights.”
I shake my head, face twisting in acidic humor. “Yeah, because you don’t know anything about me.” A taxi pulls over, and I wrench open the door, sliding in. “I thought our first round of dates were bad with you ignoring my existence and just trying to get into my pants, but this took it to a new level of awful.” I grip the handle, moving to slam the door shut.
Cooper catches it, jaw set in defiance as he holds it open. “I’m going to make it up to you, Eva. I promise.”
With a deep breath, I smooth my frazzled features intoan icy stare. “You keep saying that, but the bar’s been on the ground, and you keep showing up with a shovel.”
I give the door another yank and it slips from his hand, slamming away the image of his wrecked expression, the last thing I see as the cab speeds off.
Chapter 7
I know it may be hard to believe, what with my calm, cool demeanor and mature responses to life’s biggest curveballs, but I do sometimes overreact. Rarely, but it happens.
And as I make my way to Cooper’s house for our first debrief, I wonder if maybe I overreacted just the teeniest-tiniest bit at the end of our date two days ago. It’s juvenile, but I really hate heights. And Rylie Cooper. The latter goes without saying.
Even the barest of heights have always induced a wooziness in me, but I lost my ability to gulp down the fear around the age of ten. My three stepbrothers lured me into climbing up to the roof of our garage one random day that summer, convincing me that it was the best way to scope out the ice cream truck making its rounds. I bit back my shaky hesitationat their coaxing smiles, wanting so desperately to be one of them, weave into their tightknit siblinghood, learn what made my dad prefer their company over mine.
The boys stuck together like glue, the youngest of them still five years older than me, and the disconnect between us didn’t give me much hope for the even-larger gap that would exist between me and the twins who were on the way.
I existed in the shadow of the boys’ shine, but that day they acted like they wanted me to join them in the light. I was so thrilled to be included in a small summer adventure, I was determined to swallow down my fear.
