Page 71 of Sol
I kept crossing and uncrossing my legs, digging in my purse, wondering where we were going. But he wouldn’t tellme.
When we got to Madrid, we exited the Atocha train station and waited in a taxiline.
“You’re gonna have to tell me where we’re going,” I said. “Unless you tell the driver inSpanish.”
“I’ll just show the driver theaddress.”
With a huff, I crossed my arms over my chest, then gave him a grin. “I’m so psyched! Am I gonna likeit?”
“Absolutely, yes.” He held my hand and gave it asqueeze.
We dove into the next taxi, and Trent showed the driver the address on his phone. I was lost. I had no idea where we were going, and I loved it. I loved the adventure, seeing the busy, grand city all around us. But we kept going, from the center of the city to the outskirts, until we pulled up at a huge industrialbuilding—
“Indoorskydiving?”
He beamed. “C’mon.”
After we checked in, we were assigned an instructor, who spoke English and welcomed us effusively. He asked us about our skill level. While Trent was an expert, I readily admitted I had no idea what we were doing and asked all kinds ofquestions.
“Normally a skydive is about forty-five seconds of freefall,” the instructor said. “This is sixty, and you will get to do ittwice.”
“Ohmigod,” Iwhispered.
“First you need to get your flight suits. You can put them on over yourclothing.”
We followed the instructor to get suited up. I must say, Trent with the top half of the suit hanging down his waist, his tight T-shirt stretching as he slid his arms in the suit, was an erotic sight. “Your suit is specially designed with grips that the instructors are trained to latchonto.”
After we were dressed, I asked, “How does thiswork?”
“We have a vertical wind tunnel with fans at the top to draw air through the chamber. The air gets pushed down the side, compressed, and sped up, then it reenters the chamber. You get to fly on a cushion ofair.”
“You get to fly,” Trent whispered in my ear, his lips caressing myskin.
“Holy shit, yes!” I turned to the instructor. “Will I be able tobreathe?”
“Yes. It’s like sticking your head out a car window whiledriving.”
I bounced on my toes, my stomach fluttering, my skin prickling all over. I donned the helmet andgoggles.
“Do he and I get to gotogether?”
“Yes,” said the instructor, with a smile. “We take up groups at once. You can betogether.”
While we waited our turn, I fussed with the flight suit, hovering in the waiting area, watching the people go beforeus.
What athrill.
They stepped in the chamber, and then with a whoosh of air, they floated, arms outstretched, legs in the scissor position, reaching for each other, laughing and floating around in a cushion of air while an instructor positionedthem.
“It’s a lot safer than jumping out a plane,” he saidapologetically.
“Don’t be sorry. I’m soexcited!”
When it was our turn, we stepped into thechamber.
My heart thumped so fast. I covered my face and then peeked at theinstructor.
“Ready?” heasked.
