Gripp

20

April wrote a few more lines, then snapped the notebook shut. She stood, placed her things inside the waterproof backpack, and then threw it on with conviction.

Gripp was still seated, leaning up against the mangroves. He couldn’t control the smile he flashed at her.

“I’m good to go whenever you are,” she said with an excited look in her eye.

Gripp stood and let his arms fall to his sides. She was astonishing. Every second that he spent getting to know her made him hungrier for more.

“You know, I never thought I’d meet someone tougher than me,” he said, c*****g an eyebrow. “But I may have done it.”

April adjusted her pack and simply grinned at him. There was no hint of bashfulness at all.

“Come on,” she said, playfully pushing at his shoulder. “We’re losing daylight here.”

Gripp’s cheeks warmed as he chuckled, and it was the most joyful feeling he had experienced in a long time. He tried to brush it off as innocent fun, but it was more, the idea of which scared the s**t out of him.

Gripp retrieved his pack and the blanket from the hut, and they started along a ravine. Once it plunged too far, they stopped to discuss what their next move could be.

“I think we only have two options here,” Gripp said, gazing over the ravine. “The first would be to walk around one side, cross over the rapids, and then walk up the opposing side.”

April was gazing over the side, too, the wheels in her mind working hard and fast.

“And the second option?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

Gripp smiled, adoring her curiosity. “Remember when you said you wanted to be a monkey shifter?”

April merely smiled back. “Of course.”

“Well,” Gripp began, walking toward a tree behind them. “The ravine is only about eight feet across. I’m pretty sure we could make it across by swinging.”

As he spoke, Gripp reached up and grabbed hold of a thick vine. He tugged on it using shifter strength which was far more intense than that of a human. April, as predicted, did not recoil.

Her smile morphed into a smug smirk which made Gripp’s knees weak.

“So you’re telling me that we have to be like Tarzan and Jane?” she responded.

Gripp yanked at the rope again, guaranteeing that it wouldn’t snap. He then pointed a finger at himself and then her with a flat, dumb look on his face.

“Me, Tarzan, you, Jane.”

April’s laugh was beyond charming and bewitching. Gripp felt like he was on a date with her and that they would soon go back to one of their homes, have a glass of wine on a romantic balcony, and have incredible s*x.

But that wasn’t the case at all.

Why is she making me feel these things?

Gripp showed April how to get momentum from running up the edge, then taking a leap. She watched him and nodded, seeming more enthused by the prospect than scared.

“Do you want to go first or second?” he asked.

She tilted her head at him, then gave him a wink. “Second will work best for me,” she said.

Gripp was dizzy with attraction but cleared his throat and adjusted his pack while taking one final, massive tug on the vine. He narrowed his eyes and planned where his feet would plant and exactly how he would grab hold of April when it was her turn.

He hoped it was by the hips.

“Bon voyage,” Gripp said.

Gripp ran and used his strong legs to leap over the short jump, easily landing his feet on the cliff beyond. Leaping over ravines never made him hesitate. It was more the concern for April. But she was capable, and he had all the faith in the world that she would do just fine.

She clapped sarcastically across the way at him, and he gave her an equally sarcastic bow.

“Very graceful!” she yelled.

Gripp smiled from ear to ear. She had such power over him. It was amazing. And scary.

“Now your turn, acrobat,” he yelled.

Gripp launched his arm backward, firing the vine at April. She caught it, then backed up the way he showed her.

“Remember,” Gripp yelled through cupped hands over the raging waters. “Jump up with your legs in a deep squat once you reach the edge. I got you!”

Without another word, April narrowed her eyes and ran at the cliff. She didn’t give herself a practice start, which wasn’t surprising, but Gripp wished she had when she flew through the air.

She held on tight as she landed with the front of her toes on the cliffside. Because she hadn’t given herself enough of a running start, her toes easily slipped, and she tilted backward.

Gripp reached out and brushed her shirt with the tips of his fingers. Her hands moved down the vine with a scraping sound, and he watched as her teeth clenched with horror.

Gripp felt himself moving in slow motion. There was no way she would survive crashing down to the ravine nearly one hundred feet below.