Total pages in book: 24
Estimated words: 23426 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 117(@200wpm)___ 94(@250wpm)___ 78(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 23426 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 117(@200wpm)___ 94(@250wpm)___ 78(@300wpm)
There’s a crisp freshness in the air that seems to be seeping into my soul because I’m walking a little faster with an exuberant energy that I’m not used to having.
My eyes wander over to the Search and Rescue building as I walk by it. I feel my cheeks blushing when I remember the gorgeous view of Julian saving that sweet little girl.
I was thinking about it all night. Those big protective arms holding up that lucky girl, the look in his eyes, the way he was so calm and cool, like he saved people every day and it was no big deal.
I even woke up in the middle of the night in a heated sweat. The sheets were twisted around my sweaty body, my heart was pounding, my sex was on fire, and Julian’s gorgeous image was planted in my brain like a stubborn root that I couldn’t get out.
The only way I could get back to sleep was by touching myself to quench some of the burning heat. I came harder than I’ve ever came before.
I take a deep breath and hurry past the building like I’m guilty of something.
Once I turn the corner, I breathe a little easier. I pass a cool restaurant with a big terrace that the servers are setting up. There’s a restaurant and large bar section inside with shelves of bottles lit up in a funky blue glow. It looks like it’s the place to be at night.
I look up at the sign and smile. Jack Jameson’s Bar and Grill. I’ll have to try it out. Hopefully with a hot certain someone from Search and Rescue accompanying me.
The Angel Arc Bridge is about a thirty-minute walk, but I don’t mind at all. The scenery is spectacular, the streets are fun, and I’m using the time to psych myself up.
I can’t be timid and shy with a guy like Julian. He probably has dozens of women throwing themselves at him every week. I have to make an impression on him. I have to be bold and adventurous.
That’s the kind of girl he must like. I mean, he works in Search and Rescue in the mountains and owns a bungee jump on the side. He’s got to be the adventurous type to do all of that and I’m sure he wants a girl who can keep up.
I’m thinking about him the whole way—as I walk along the road next to the babbling creek, while I gaze up at the giant trees that run along a cute little street with the most adorable houses, and as I start to follow a road that leads deeper into the mountains. Mr. Julian Long is dominating my mind. I want to know everything about him. It’s driving me crazy that I know so little.
I tried to stalk him online, but all I found was an old Facebook profile with three pictures of a much younger Charlie on it. Not one of him. Talk about disappointing.
I walk around a bend and a giant arched bridge appears in the distance. My feet stop and I gasp when I see it. It’s massive.
The enormous thing is wedged between two mountains and far down below is a raging river running underneath. It’s all steel and so freaking high.
My heart starts pounding violently the closer I get. Those rapids underneath are intense.
I’m going to have to jump off that thing? Are you kidding me?
Maybe I’m not the adventurous girl that Julian is looking for. Maybe I’m not the girl for him.
That thought makes me want to cry, but then I look at the tattoo on my wrist and I steel myself. I suck it up and walk over with my shoulders back and my head up.
I am that kind of girl. I get to choose who I am.
There are about twenty or so people on the bridge. Some are waiting for their turn to jump and some are just watching. I’m looking everywhere but I don’t see Julian.
Should I still jump even if he’s not here?
I decide to jump no matter what. I have to be adventurous for me, not for some guy.
A scream echoes along the canyon as a girl jumps over. I’m walking up from behind, so I don’t see her. I just hear her terrified scream turn into a joyful one after the cord bounces back up.
“Oh my god,” I whisper with a fluttering in my stomach. My body is screaming at me to turn around, but I keep walking down the dirt path until I arrive on the steel bridge. Old train tracks run along it, but they look like they haven’t been used in decades. This bridge looks like it’s only used for one thing—to terrify tourists.
“Hello,” a girl in her early twenties says as she walks up to me with a smile. She’s wearing a light blue vest with Greene Mountain Bungee written on it. Her name tag says Ivy. “Are you here to watch or to jump?”