Barely Breathing (The Breathing #2)(125)

I eased my legs out and realized my pants were the reason I was so cold, keeping the water pressed against my skin. "Can I borrow your knife?" I requested.



       
         
       
        

Jonathan narrowed his eyes. "Why? You going to stab me with it for making you jump?"

I smiled deviously, allowing him think I was contemplating it. Then I laughed lightly. "No."

"It's up with my jeans," he nodded. He didn't make any indication of getting up, so I stood and faltered my way back to the ledge, my heels catching on my sopping wet jeans with each step.

I picked up his jeans and found the black handled knife in the front pocket. I unfolded the blade and it snapped into place. I pulled the fabric from my skin and carefully stuck the tip through to make a hole, then began sawing around my thigh, letting the pant leg fall to my feet. I instantly felt better as the warm air soothed the goose bumps.

I crouched to slide the knife back in the jeans' pocket, and my eyes drifted towards Jonathan lying on the boulder with his hands behind his head and his eyes closed, absorbing the sun―he appeared completely at peace. The muscles along his broad chest were relaxed, but the definition of his body was still evident, pressed against the stone. I quickly looked away and found myself inadvertently staring back over the ledge, at the water below.

I waited for the panic to set in. But it didn't. My heart beat harder, but it was adrenaline, not fear, that pumped through my veins. And it felt exhilarating.

I didn't give myself time to think before I leapt and braced for the cold that I knew awaited me. The thrill of the fall caught my breath before I was swallowed up by the heart-stopping water.

I let the adrenaline coarse through my body with a smile as I kicked toward the rocks―which was much easier in shorts. I picked a dry boulder and eased myself up, the warmth radiating through the hard surface and into my legs. I removed my shoes and socks and set them next to me.

I noticed Jonathan watching me with a comical grin.

"What?" I demanded impatiently.

"You're not afraid of heights."

"I know. You cured me, right?" my voice was heavy with sarcasm.

"Emma, your fear was never heights." I scrunched my eyes, not following. "What were you thinking when you were looking down at the water. What was going through your head?"

"That there was no way I was going to jump."

Jonathan chuckled. "Besides that."

"That I was going to―" I stopped. He saw it in my eyes as the unspoken words caused my heart to falter.

"Emma, what are you afraid of?" Jonathan asked again, studying my face.

"I'm afraid of dying," I breathed, hearing it out loud made my chest hurt and my eyes sting with tears. I blinked them away. Jonathan pressed his lips together and bowed his head.

The falls crashing into the pool in the distance filled the silence. Neither of us said a word. We both knew where this fear stemmed from, and I wasn't convinced there was anything that could be done about it. She was never going to let me feel safe again, even if she couldn't reach out and kill me. 





33. Consequences



"Would you like a cherry on that?" the girl asked in a low flirtatious voice.

"No, that's okay," Jonathan answered, not fazed by her ogling.

I stifled a laugh as I sat on top of the picnic table with my feet on the bench, watching the entire transaction. Jonathan returned with the two sundaes in his hands, and I could hear giggling behind him. Two of the girls working the ice cream stand couldn't keep their eyes off him, whispering and laughing as he walked away.

"You have a fan club," I teased, taking the sundae he offered to me. "They must recognize you from the ads."

"Funny," Jonathan returned with a sideways glance as he sat on the bench beside me.

"Or maybe they think you wet yourself," I laughed, nodding toward his jeans where his wet boxers seeped through.

He smirked. "That's probably it. You know you're going to leave a wet ass mark on the table when you get up, right?"

I leaned to the side to reveal the dark wood mark under my damp jeans. "Oh well."

"What time do you have practice today?" Jonathan asked before spooning in a mouthful of ice cream.

"Three-thirty," I told him after pulling the spoon out of my mouth.

"We'll head back after this."

It was the first time I'd thought about returning to Weslyn, and a swell of nerves enveloped me. I should've at least texted Evan before I left. My phone was in my car, so that wasn't possible now.