Lost In Us (Lost 1)

I gasp. "You want me to jump down there?"

He grins, unhitching himself from the wall, hands in pockets. "Correct."

"You've got to be kidding, right?"

"Come on. It's not that high."

Truth be told, it isn't that high. But I've never been much of a climber, or jumper for that matter.

"Whatever happened to just walking down some stairs like a normal person? There must be other ways to get there. "

"I picked the least boring one." James winks, holding his arms up. "I thought you'd find it romantic."

"It kind of is," I admit with a giggle. Unless I break a leg, or my neck. I bite the inside of my cheek, eyeing the wooden railing for a few seconds, then swing a leg over the railing, careful not to damage my pink dress in the process. The edge of the terrace on the other side of the railing is just wide enough for me to stand on my toes. I bend my knees, holding onto the railing as best as I can. The ground really isn't that far away. I could almost touch James's raised arms if I extended one of my own. But the sinking feeling in my stomach refuses to let go.

"You'll have to actually let go of the railing to be able to jump, Serena," James jokes.

"You don't say."

I slowly release my right hand from the railing, holding tight with the left one.

"That's it," James says, touching the tip of my fingers. "Jump, baby. I'll catch you."

Gritting my teeth, I let go of the railing completely, and lean forward.

"Aargh," I yelp, as I crash into James's arms, almost knocking him over. My feet land with a thump on the ground. The heels of my sandals have sunk almost an inch into the soft earth. "My shoes are so not right for this," I say.

James laughs softly in my ear, his arms wrapped around me. My heartbeat picks up. "That's a cheap way of tricking me into carrying you."

"I swear I wasn't—" the rest of my words come out in a howl as he lifts me in his arms again, like earlier when he took me to my room.

"Better?"

"I can get used to this, you know."

"Good," he says, looking me straight in the eyes. "That's what I want. No actually, I want more. I don't want you to only get used to me. I want you to be addicted to me, like I am to you."

His lips are so close to me now. So, so close. It would be the easiest thing in the world to lean in and kiss him. It's also the hardest. Because I am addicted to him already, in ways he can't possibly imagine. But it's best if he doesn't know that yet. So I lean back, pretending to scrutinize our surroundings. "Where are you taking me?"

"You don't think I'd tell you, do you?" he says, though his voice lacks the spark it usually has when he's hiding his plan from me. It's strained, and I'm at fault. He climbs the slope parallel to the waterfall, and, as we make our way through the dense trees, I wonder where his game will take us this time. The options aren't as vast here. Just as I consider the possibility that we're going to his car, the trees become scarcer and I see a clearing not far in front of us. There is light in the clearing, which is odd, given that it's in the heart of the forest. When we get closer, I narrow my eyes, staring at the lighting device—a huge thing on the ground, like a giant turtle whose grotesquely deformed shell is made up of what appear to be fluorescent ostrich eggs.

But as we step inside the clearing, I get to see what it really is. It's not a lighting device at all. It's a stack of white balloons tied to a stone on the ground. They are somehow lit up on the inside. Next to them is a picnic blanket.

Balloons. Eight of them. One for each one of Kate's anniversaries since she died.

My throat is dry as James kneels and puts me on the blanket, next to the balloons. My tear ducts, on the other hand, aren't. James sits by me, on the blanket.

"How come they're glowing?" I ask, fighting very hard to keep my voice from shaking.

"They've got LEDs in them." He interlaces his fingers with mine. "I thought it'd be good for you to do this again."

I tilt my head to the side, wiping a tear away with my other hand. "When did you do… all this?"

"After you fell asleep. I was afraid you'd wake up before I returned, but the champagne knocked you out all right," he chuckles, squeezing my fingers gently.

"What time is it?"

"Two o'clock."