22. Kali

CHAPTER 22

Kali

There are times Paxton is broody and so serious his tenseness hurts my forehead. Especially when he’s talking about his job. Today is not one of those days. Today, he’s like a kid in a candy store. And as sexy as his broody side is, this side of him is my favorite.

“I’ve never ridden a roller coaster before,” I confess, staring up at the colossal green monster coaster, spiraling and flipping upside down. I’m certain if I wasn’t here, Paxton would run to get in line with the group of boys that just passed us.

As soon as he asked me to go to Six Flags, my answer was a resounding yes . Growing up, kids were quick to brag about their Six Flags trips to San Antonio or Dallas. They raved about the rides they rode and how much fun they had. Most of the time, I figured they were exaggerating.

They were not.

“We could start smaller,” he teases, a playful glint in his eyes. He points to a different ride. “Like that one?”

I stare at the ride. Cars in a circle on a spinning disk. I might as well throw up now. The only benefit of that ride is that it’s on the ground. But my stomach squeezes at the dizzying sight. No, thanks.

I pucker my lips and shake my head. “I say we jump right in. I’m ready to ride that big boy.”

“Is that right?” He wags his thick brows with a salacious grin. “I know a big?—”

My skin warms as I cover his mouth with my hand. “Don’t promise things you might not be able to deliver.”

He draws me into his chest, tickling my side. “Oh, Kalico, just you wait.”

This is the weekend—the weekend— when I get to rip his clothes off and make mad love to him. It’s been a month of flirting, innuendos, passionate kisses, and a lot of heavy petting. But he’s been the perfect gentleman, letting me take the lead on where this goes. My insecurities held me back. Remember, I’m a five. He’s not.

He sent me flowers. I’ve never received flowers from a man before, not counting the ones that Chip would give me on my birthday. Those were like flowers from my dad. Sometimes, I have to sit back and remind myself that this is my life now. I have everything I’ve ever wanted at the moment.

And he’s made it clear that he wants me.

One more week, and I move into my apartment. It’s only fifteen minutes from Paxton’s apartment, so it’ll make it easier to see him more than once a week.

“I’m done waiting.”

He stares down at me. “Like done, done? Like we need to leave right now, done?”

“We just got here. But tonight…” I lean into him and lift on my toes, giving him a sweet, chaste kiss on his lips before pulling back and whispering into his ear, “I might even let you use the handcuffs.”

“Damn woman,” he says, turning away to adjust himself. “This will be interesting.” He snorts, pulling me behind the same group of boys that ran past us to get in line. He leans down and whispers so the little ears don’t hear. “I’ve never had a boner while on a ride before. Either I’ll never have kids again, or I’ll need to change my underwear after this.”

I smack my hand on my forehead. Leave it to a man to wonder how a roller coaster can get him off.

My heart picks up speed as we wait behind the yellow line. The car pulls up, and everyone exits to the other side. We’re next. I crack my knuckles and shake out my hands. The group of boys are two rows ahead of us. They see me and joke about how nervous I am. I roll my eyes. Little jerks.

I settle into the seat and lower the harness, pulling it as tight as possible against my ribcage. A teenage kid pulls on my seat belt and harness. Are you kidding me? Are you even old enough for this important job? It seems this job is way above his pay grade. If it’s not, it should be.

“Get ready, baby,” Paxton says, winking at me as he turns his hat backward. “This ride is just a prelude to the actual ride tonight.”

“There you go again. Promising things. I hope you’re not setting yourself up for failure.”

His laugh roars as the red light goes from yellow to green, and we shoot out and start moving up. Oh shit! My fingers grip the handles for dear life. I was not expecting the initial burst, and I think I peed myself a little.

I changed my mind.

Spinning on the ground sounds much safer.

I should’ve gone for safe.

Every click, click, click of the track underneath us vibrates in my chest. Holy shit. Will it ever stop climbing? I’ve decided I’m not a heights person. Wish I would’ve figured that out while on the ground. I exhale and stare at the blue skies, pretending I’m lying on the ground as we inch up—at an excruciatingly slow pace. This has to get better, right?

Little did I know that was the best part.

Because we stopped. “What…” Panic spikes as I look to my left, then right at Paxton. “Why aren’t we moving? Is this supposed to happen?”

“Uh…I don’t believe so.”

Right before it got to the top, it stopped. It was moving, click, click, click , and I cursed it was taking too long, and then nothing. We’re at a steep angle, nothing to do but stare up at the clear blue skies and the glaring sun. This isn’t happening. I jerk my hand around, searching for Paxton’s hand. He finds me and squeezes.

“It’s okay, Kali.”

“Is it?” My voice cracks at such a high octave.

Voices grow louder, creating a cacophony of confusion and panic. The unforgiving sun beats down on our faces. Thankfully, we both have sunglasses on, so it’s not miserable. Yet. I take that back. This is beyond miserable, but at least I’m not blind.

“Hey, look at me,” Paxton says, leaning forward to see over his harness. I hesitate as if the mere movement of my head will tilt the train over and we’ll fall to our deaths, but I glance over when I tell myself that I’m being ridiculous. “We’re fine, and we can’t fall out. We’re safe right here.”

“This can’t be safe.” My heart pounds in my ears, and despite the ample air and bright sun, I feel myself slipping back into the dark box. My breathing becomes loud and labored, sweat beads trail down my back and across my forehead. “That’s it, no more big boys for me,” I snap, squeezing my eyelids shut.

“Well, that’s disappointing.”

I jerk my head forward and turn in his direction, pursing my lips. Anger temporarily disables the fear. “I’m not in a kidding mood at the moment,” I snap.

Minutes crawl by, and nothing. Some of the chatter has now turned into small cries. My fingers burn from gripping the harness. I release them, one at a time, to shake out the tension, only to clench back onto it, holding on for dear life.

“Close your eyes,” he urges.

They already are, but now he has me questioning why he wants them closed. What does he not want me to see? Unable to resist, I open them again. “Why? What’s going on?”

“Everything is okay. Close your eyes and focus on my voice,” he reassures.

Reluctantly, I do what he says, closing my eyes and trying to calm the racing thoughts. I lick my dry lips and try to slow my breaths. “They’re closed.”

“Tonight, we’re going out. Think about what you’re going to wear. Where we are going. What you are going to drink,” he prompts.

I fight to transport myself to a bar setting. “Tequila. Lots of it,” I declare, the first thing I wish I had right now. It might be the only thing that would make this situation more bearable.

He laughs. “Tequila it is. Now imagine yourself sitting there. I’ve left to go to the bar,” he continues, and it’s becoming easier to immerse myself as he keeps talking. “You wonder where I disappeared to because it’s been a few minutes.”

I play along, but I wonder where this is headed.

“And then you see me on stage, tapping the mic. Is this thing on?”

“What are you doing?” I say, leaning forward and looking at him again.

“Shhh. Close your eyes. Get back to the bar,” he demands.

The panic subsides as I close my eyes again, intrigued to find out what he’s up to.

“You there?”

“Yes.”

I chuckle to myself as he hums a tune. It’s familiar, but it’s hard to place with only his hum. Then he starts singing. Right there in the midst of this mess we’re in.

“Where it began…I can’t begin to know when…”

My laugh, filled with equal parts terror and confusion, fills the air as he sings “Sweet Caroline” by Neil Diamond. He’s not horrible, but he’s not about to be the next winner of a singing show either. He builds up to the chorus, singing louder, and my fear morphs into worrying about the other passengers and what they’re thinking. I half expect people to yell at him to stop, that it’s not the time for karaoke. But to my surprise, a dad one row ahead of us chimes in. Then, one by one, they all join, a chorus of panicked people coming together to find something else to focus on.

“Sweet Kalico ,” he says, during the next round of chorus.

I’m past the point of shock, moving on to, again, finding him adorable. The tune is not as upbeat and fun as you’d find in an actual bar, this version has a more melancholy vibe. Many people clap with him at the iconic “bum, bum, bum” part.

I steal a glance at him with astonishment, and he responds with a humorous shrug as if he’s as surprised as I am.

“Well, this is a first.” A man appears at the side of the train, smiling and holding bottles of water. The song stops as everyone waits to hear what’s going on. Another man joins behind him. They are both tethered to a bar on the side of the stairs. “Is everyone all right?” they ask as they pass out the water. They answer each of our questions thrown at them. “Yes, it’s safe.” “No, it can’t roll backward.” “They are working on it.” And the most important: “We don’t know how much longer.”

Great.

After thirty minutes and the beginning of a sunburn that’ll hurt later, we’re told that we’re going to walk down the stairs. All two hundred feet of them.

“The ride is broken,” they said.

No shit .

I could’ve told them that thirty minutes ago. A group of firefighters appear in full gear and spread themselves out at our side. Shit just got real. They explain that they’ll be releasing us by car. Thankfully, ours is last.

“We’re next,” Paxton says, squeezing my hand.

I exhale a heavy breath and nod. Though deep down, fear courses through me like a chilling wind. Legs trembling, heart pounding. I think I’d rather stay here . But I don’t want him to see me weak. He’s already witnessed me shattered at my weakest, and I’m afraid if I keep showing him that fragile side, he’ll grow tired of playing the hero.

And I’m not a weak person. I’m a survivor who keeps getting herself in tough situations.

When it’s our turn, Paxton hops out of his seat like it’s nothing, puts his harness on, and extends his hand to grasp my shaking fingers. “Look at me,” he instructs as my eyes pop out of my head, seeing how far up we are. The sheer height takes my breath away. Literally .

I take a step over to his seat and plop down, needing to find the air in my lungs.

“Hold on,” I murmur, resting my head against the seat in front of me. I fight the light-headedness. Do not pass out. I repeat the words over and over to myself, and I focus on my breathing. In and out.

“This is the worst part. Once you’re out and standing on the stairs, it’s much better,” the firefighter reassures me.

I let out a sarcastic laugh. “Coming from a person who lives on ladders.”

“Want me to sing again?” Paxton grins when I turn my head toward him.

“No.” I snicker, gripping the chair in front of me as I pull myself up. Once again, he holds his hand out.

That single step is the most terrifying step I’ve ever taken. While it doesn’t compare to the horror of being buried alive, it’s not something I want to ever repeat. With both hands clutching the bar, they secure me to a harness, and while I feel better not being at an angle anymore, the stairway descent is still crazy scary. I blow out a breath through puffed-out cheeks and focus only on the metal stairs beneath me.

Paxton places a gentle kiss on my forehead, standing one step down from me. “You’re doing great, Kalico.”

No. No I’m not.

“I’m mad at you for making me use one of my nine lives,” I nervously joke, but am thankful for his calm demeanor. “I don’t have many left.”

He shakes his head. “You have a million moments left in your lifetime. This will just be one we tell our grandkids, and they’ll think we’re the coolest.”

Does he mean our grandkids?

Clearly, he didn’t. Way to jump ahead fifty years, Kali. We’ve been dating for one month, I remind myself. I glance down, pretending to check the tightness of the harness, even though I know it’s tight because I confirmed it as soon as they secured it.

“If everyone is ready, we’re going to head down. We’re taking one step at a time, slow and steady,” the firefighter instructs.

“I’ll be a bundle of stories,” I mutter sarcastically, taking the first step down.