Sterling (Carolina Reapers 6)

“Wait, is that why you didn’t call me back?” The couple in front of us moved, and we shuffled forward.

“Maybe.” I winced.

“Boys,” she muttered as the attendant lifted the rope for us. “Do you have any idea how many of the world’s problems could be solved if you just said what was on your mind?”

“In my defense,” I said, putting my hand on the small of her back as we walked toward the moving platform where empty boats were readying for launch. “You got out of the elevator and raced right into his arms.”

“I would have hugged Caz like that, too,” she said as we climbed into the two-person boat. “Doesn’t mean I’m dating him.”

We took our hard, plastic seats, and the attendant ordered us to put our lap belts on, so we did.

Then it was just us, and another boat maybe fifteen feet ahead that disappeared into the darkness as the platform moved us forward.

“In that moment, I probably would have assumed you were dating Caz, too, since I didn’t know he was your brother,” I admitted as we dipped off the platform and into the water.

She laughed. “I assure you I’m not dating my brother.”

“Thank God for small miracles,” I teased.

Her breath caught as we passed through a misty veil and into complete darkness. A voice boomed around us, saying that we’d begun our journey and must now descend.

London’s hand clutched mine, and the boat plummeted down an unseen slide, throwing up a splash of water as we landed below.

“Holy shit!” she cursed.

“I didn’t know that was coming,” I said quickly as the room around us illuminated in red, the voice announcing that we were in some kind of magma tube or whatever.

“I figured,” she muttered, her hand tightening on mine like a vise. Girl had a grip, I’d give her that.

“Maybe try the breathing thing?” I suggested as we passed some kind of animatronics for…I didn’t even fucking know. The ride didn’t have my attention—London did.

She rolled her eyes at me, and I got the point to stop mansplaining. Her breaths were steady and even as we turned the corner, and I had to admit, the dark red lighting of the place was a little unnerving. I couldn’t see the boat in front of us or behind us as we drifted from chamber to chamber, listening to the ride tell us the different layers of the earth we were sliding through.

The next drop was easy to see coming, and London even cracked a smile as the water rained down, drenching us both.

We turned into the next chamber, and the voice’s tone changed to one of urgency, telling us that everything eventually returned to the surface.

“I’m going to hit you if this thing spits us out of some volcano,” London threatened, but there was no anger in her tone.

“Hey, you were the one who wanted to ride it—”

The whole chamber went black, and the boat stopped.

What the fuck? Was this part of the ride?

“Jansen?” London asked, her voice cracking.

“I’m here.” I dropped her hand and pulled her against my side, wrapping my arm around her shoulder. Shit, I could feel her breath coming faster. “I’m sure it has to be—”

“Ladies and gentlemen,” another voice boomed. “We are experiencing a technical delay. Please remain seated while we work through this unforeseen issue.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” London shouted, her voice reverberating off the walls.

I didn’t even know what to say, so I just held her tighter. “We’ll be out of here in no time.”

“So is your luck bad? Or mine?” she asked, turning her face against my chest.

I rested my chin on the top of her head. “Would it be inappropriate to crack a joke that I get to hold you in the dark?”

She scoffed. Good, my girl was holding on.

“Tell me something.” There was unmistakable urgency in her voice and she gripped the fabric of my shorts in one hand and my shirt in the other. “Anything. Just distract me.”

My mind drew a blank for several panicked seconds.

“Okay. My mom didn’t want me to play hockey. At least not at first.”

“Really?” She burrowed in tighter, and I could tell by the rise and fall of her shoulders that she was nearing hyperventilation.

“Really. I figured out the reason eventually, of course, and I don’t blame her. Hell, I fell in love with being a goalie by the time I was seven, and still didn’t know who my biological father was. There’s just something I love about defending the net, being the last line.”

“When did. You figure. It. Out?” Yup. She was panicking. Shit.

“I overheard my grandfather telling Mom that she couldn’t fight genetics when I made the AAA team. I was thirteen. And I remember that I wasn’t pissed at her for keeping it from me. I’d always figured that dads who wanted to be in the picture were, but how blown away I was that she let me play. She was terrified of me becoming exactly like him, but she overcame it because she knew just how much I loved the sport.”