The Perfect Escape (The Perfect Escape #1) - Suzanne Park Page 0,76
that.” His face flushed, and both eyes popped open. “I meant it in an obstacle course sense, not a ‘let’s have sex right now’ way.”
“Yeah, I figured. You don’t seem to be in a very sexy mood,” I deadpanned.
Squeezing his eyes shut again, he shook his head. “Oh God. Ignore me, please. The high altitude’s messing with my brain.”
I took off my backpack and sat down next to him. It was a good time to take a rest, anyway. “I’ll pass on your generous humping offer. Maybe another time.”
Here we were again, falling back into conversation. Just like old times.
We were almost around the first cliff bend. Nate was too wide to get around, he was right about that, but I still risked slipping off the edge by straddling him wrong. And who knew how long it would take for someone to pick him up once he’d pulled off his wristband?
The right way to handle this mess was far from simple. We both needed to keep going. After he and I made it across, I had just as good a shot to win as he did.
“Nate, do you trust me?”
No hesitation. “Yes.”
“Good. We’re going to keep moving, together. My therapist used to work with me on my fears, mainly stage fright and night terrors, especially around my mom’s death. Maybe some of those tips can help you.” I took his pulse. “Your heart rate is way too fast. You need to slowwww down. Are you breathing okay?”
Eyes still closed, he took a series of deep breaths. His frenetic pulse went down a little.
“It’s better,” I said. “But try breathing in and exhaling even deeper.”
He did a few and grumbled, “I feel stupid doing this.”
“It might feel stupid, but your pulse is close to normal now. That’s great! Okay, now you need to tell me what we can dump out of your pack. It’s weighing you down and might be contributing to your unsteadiness on this ledge.”
“Anything but food and water can go. The competition should be over soon anyway, so I don’t need a lot of stuff.”
His pack was stuffed full, and we didn’t have room to lay it all out. New plan. “I’ll drag the backpack behind me, as far as I can carry it. If it becomes a problem, I can leave it somewhere you can retrieve it later. There’s a detachable pouch, and I’ll fill it with some water and food.”
His breath quickened, and color drained from his face.
“Nate.”
His eyelashes fluttered. He opened his eyes.
“Take more deep breaths. And then we walk slowly. The sun’s dried the path, so it’s not muddy anymore like when you first got here. We can chat the whole way, nothing stress-inducing, I promise.” Grabbing my extended hand and using the rocky wall behind him to steady himself, he pulled his body up.
I promised him pleasant conversation as a means of distracting him, but what could I say? Almost everything I thought of eventually led back to Nate and me. Back to our friendship and our partnership breakup. Hard feelings didn’t just magically go away.
For us to make it up the cliff path, though, it was important to keep my hurt feelings in check. I swallowed my anger like a horse-size pill. Mindless topic of conversation number one. “How many Capri Suns did you drink in all?”
He took a couple of slow steps. “I drank five. And don’t worry, I peed before I got stuck here.” A few more shuffles forward. “How’s your ankle? Is it any better?”
I bit back my sarcasm. You mean the ankle you assumed would slow you down so you ditched me in the cave? “It’s a lot better. It’s still stiff and bruised, but the bruising and swelling went down, and I can walk on it, especially thanks to those pain meds. And faster than your old granny pace.”
He slowed the shuffling of his feet. “I can go slower, you know.” One micro baby step. Then another. Then another.
“Hey! Okay, fine. No more pointing out your geriatric steppage.”