11. CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
It was the quietest night I’d seen in Mostar, probably due to the threat of summer rain and the lure of dinner. I changed right on the bridge with no other witness besides Luka. I struggled to pull on the damp wetsuit, my hands shaking as I finally managed to zip it up. Luka hopped over the railing one foot at a time before helping me do the same.
“You okay?” he asked.
I hoped pure terror wasn’t emanating from every inch of my body as I nodded mutely.
New experiences. Going out of my comfort zone. These were what I’d wanted all along when I’d started this journey.
“Okay,” Luka continued, nodding his chin toward the diving platform that now looked like a child’s playground. “So it’s the same as down there, nothing changes. When you come up, you just head for the bank on your right. Well…you remember.”
Holy hell, did I. The image of Luka’s doomed jump flashed in my mind. Fear fought back against my stubborn pigheadedness.
I ground my teeth. My choice, my rules.
“Are you sure?” he asked, as though he could hear my internal conflict.
I opened my mouth, but my answer was drowned out .
“Mallory!”
My feet slipped against the polished stone as I spun toward the sound of my name, crouching to hold on to the railing. He was up the street, but even still, my eyes zeroed in on Emil in an instant. He broke into a run.
“Shit, he’s going to kill me,” Luka said, panicked.
“No, he’s not. This is on me.”
Luka didn’t look convinced.
“What are you doing?” Emil asked, his voice bleeding with worry.
“It’s fine,” I said lightly, soothing relief spreading through me. “Just going for a little late-night swim.”
His eyes shot to Luka, who cowered beside me. “What did you do?”
“Nothing I didn’t ask for,” I countered, driving Emil’s hard gaze back to mine.
“Please come onto the bridge.”
“Pretty sure I’m still am.” For emphasis, I stood straighter, desperately trying to ignore how far up I was and on the wrong side of safety. A giddy high rose inside me, fueled recklessly by the spike of adrenaline.
Emil froze like I was preparing to end my life.
“Relax,” I said. “Luka taught me everything I need to know.”
Luka groaned.
“He did, did he?” Emil’s voice was soft and dangerous. Poor Luka.
“Have you jumped?” I was honestly curious.
“Me?” Emil asked.
I waited, an eyebrow raised.
He shifted from one foot to the other. “Yes, a long time ago.”
“Girlfriends?” I teased, my tone bone-dry.
Even in the growing darkness, I could see his cheeks flush.
“Look,” I continued, attempting to sound as carefree as I could while my toes gripped the cold ledge, “I’ve been practicing all day, and I haven’t had any issues. I can do this.”
“I know you can,” Emil said, his voice changing to one of surprise. “ But that doesn’t mean you should. It’s dangerous, nothing like those practice jumps when it comes down to it. I don’t want you to get hurt.”
Hurt.
Hurt used to be a boo-boo after a fall or something you felt when you found out your first crush didn’t have feelings back. The hurt gnawing at my insides since Marseille was different. Even though the past few days had begun to alleviate it a little in a growing line of tiny sutures, it was still wide and gaping.
But what was this act, this stitch? Was I fooling myself that this was living in the moment or was it actually denial? A temporary balm, like a hit for a junkie? Whatever it was, its immediate urgency was helping, and I wanted it again—the rush, the control—and then the utter absence of it. Nothing I’d tried so far had made it go away, not until today, even if it was just for an instant. I had one more chance to feel all that before I had to leave. The reminder sent a sharp cut through my chest. Each second standing here, wavering on the precipice, was sapping my determination, fear quickly taking over to fill the void.
“It won’t hurt me,” I responded finally, my voice firm.
Emil stopped at the edge of the bridge, right below me. Conflict warred across his face, his thick eyebrows set into a deep V. “People have died before, and you saw what happened to Luka. It’s not worth the risk.”
“Some things are worth risking.”
“ You aren’t worth risking.”
“What if I think I am?”
He stared down at his hands, growing still.
“What are you running from, Mallory Roth?”
A different kind of fear twisted my stomach, but I didn’t answer. I focused on the concern behind his eyes. His honest eyes.
I hovered in limbo. Part of me wanted nothing more than to fling myself into the wide expanse, to feel the rush of complete and utter freedom. No going back, just letting go.
But the other part of my brain regurgitated all the things I’d thought the first time I’d watched Dani jump. And that sane part of me was desperate to climb over this stupid railing keeping any distance between me and Emil, to lose myself in his arms again where it was safe, sound, and warm. The urge toward the latter was a fine wine versus iced tea, comforting and rich instead of thin and cold.
“I’ll go with you.”
It was like hitting the water in a belly flop, the air slapped from my lungs.
“What?” I breathed.
His words were slow, measured. “I will go with you tomorrow when you leave.” He moved away a few steps, his eyes cast down as though he were backing from a wild animal.
“Are you sure?” I didn’t want a pity companion.
“I talked to Amin about it at the shop today,” he admitted hesitantly. “He said he would be fine.”
Luka’s hand on my back steadied me as I scrambled over the barrier too quickly. My feet touched down on the slick stones, and I slipped on my way to Emil.
He caught me, but his relief at having me down from the ledge quickly shifted to uncertainty. “You haven’t changed your mind?”
I laughed. “I nearly wound up in the river just now out of excitement. Of course I haven’t.”
Finally, Emil let loose the ghost of a smile. “Good. Because when I asked, Amin practically threw me out of the shop.”
“Mia’s going to hate you,” Luka warned in a singsong voice as he climbed over the railing to join us.
“Mia can suck it,” I answered, my tone cutting. I shrugged out of the vacuum-sealed wetsuit, chilled to the bone.
Emil, who’d been studying my bare shoulders as they emerged from beneath the neoprene, was distracted by his sister’s name. “Mia? What’s Mia got to do with this? ”
I shook my head pointedly at Luka, who looked ready to dish. “I’ll tell you later.”
Luka’s mouth shut with a disappointed snap.
“All right,” Emil said. “Can I walk you home?”
I nodded and handed the wetsuit to Luka, quickly pulling on my shorts and top. “Thank you again for today. I’ll take a rain check on the bridge another time.”
Luka glanced toward Emil, then laughed at the warning glare he was sending. With a wave, Luka headed back to the club, disappearing around the wide arch. Emil and I set off at a leisurely pace.
My still-wet hair dripped a narrow stream down my neck into my T-shirt, making me shiver. “How was your trip?”
“It was fine.”
“Where did you go?”
“Several villages.”
I guess elaboration was not on the menu tonight.
“Doing what?” I prompted.
“Some other shops sell Amin’s work, so I drop them off. Others give supplies.”
“That sounds nice.”
“Yes. What happened with Mia?”
I sighed. “I met both your sisters today, actually. Asja is adorable, but let’s just say Mia isn’t my biggest fan.”
Emil stiffened. “What did she do?”
“Nothing overtly bad.”
“Mallory.”
I huffed. “She basically accused me of seduction,” I admitted. “Warned me to stay away.”
“She didn’t,” Emil whispered, his voice venomous.
“In so many words.”
Whatever Emil wanted to say, he bit it back. His jaw clenched as a vein ticked near his temple. If we’d been in a cartoon, steam would’ve been shooting out his ears.
“I’m sorry she did that. She had no right.”
I shook my head. When she heard Emil was coming with me, she was going to be righteous as hell. “Luka’s right. She’s going to hate me for this.”
Emil stopped abruptly, his hand ripped from mine.
“I don’t answer to Mia.” His quiet voice held a warning.
I backpedaled. “I didn’t think you did. It was just an observation.”
His eyes flashed to me, softening in an instant. “Sorry.”
I shrugged it off. “It’s okay. Siblings.”
He started walking beside me again. “So where do you want to go?”
“Tonight?”
“Tomorrow.”
Oh, right. “Well,” I said, “I kept things pretty open. I did book Venice already. That’s set for tomorrow. I would love to see it if you don’t have anything against it. And London at the end, of course.”
“Have you been to Croatia yet?”
“No, but it is on my wish list. Have you?”
He nodded slowly. “It isn’t far. We could cut over and drive along the Croatian coast on the way to Venice.”
“Okay.” My stomach lurched. This was really happening.
We arrived once more at my apartment, but as he turned away, I stopped him. “I have a map and list upstairs with everything I thought I might hit during my trip. Do you want to take a look? Maybe it could be useful for ideas.” My heart thrummed in my ears.
“Sure.”
He followed me up the steps, nervous tingles skating across my skin. I took in several deep breaths, hoping he’d chalk up my loud breathing to me being out of shape (thought a girl for the first time ever). When we reached my door, I slid in ahead of him, doing my best to appear at home. As I dropped my bag next to the bed, I noticed he left the front door cracked open behind him .
“Nice view,” he said, making his way to the balcony.
“Yeah,” I agreed, rummaging haphazardly through the messy pile of papers on the coffee table in search of the map. He let himself outside, his forearms pressing into the metal bar as he leaned against it. I accepted the space and slowed down, my fingers finally skimming over the frayed edges of the map.
“Found it,” I announced, joining him on the balcony. He took it, unfurling the paper and pulling it taut between his hands. I stared out across the city, watching the lights pop on as people arrived home from work.
“That’s quite a list,” he commented.
“Yeah. I might’ve been a little ambitious.”
His fingers traced over the circles and notes in the margins. “Did you go to Florence? I’ve heard the Duomo there is amazing.”
I bit my lip. “No, I never made it to Florence.”
He peeked sideways at me. “Why not?”
“Because I came here.” I plastered on a smile.
Emil studied my face a moment before returning to the map. “Lucky me,” he said gently.
I cleared my throat. “So? Anything interesting?”
“Mhmm,” he murmured. “Prague could be a good one to keep. You have Germany here, so it would be easy to see some of it on the way to Prague from Venice.” His eyes floated to the top of the map, which was decidedly more absent of my untidy scrawl. “Have you considered Belgium?”
“I hadn’t, no. Did you have somewhere in mind?”
“Bruges.”
“Wasn’t there a movie about that place?”
He chuckled. “Yes, but I don’t think most people who saw it would see it as an invitation to visit.”
“What do you mean?”
“Never mind. Don’t watch it before we go. If you want to go, that is. You should see it and then watch the movie.”
“Why?”
“Because, fresh eyes, remember?” He tapped the side of his brow teasingly. “After. Then we can compare notes.”
My eyes narrowed. “What are you hiding from me?”
He feigned innocence. “Nothing, I only want your unbiased perspective. I can never have that for Bruges, not now.” He leaned toward me. “Our bargain, yes? What do you say?”
His light tone took on an undercurrent. He was being honest, damn near poetic, in his desire to learn and see the world with me—through me—just as I was with him. It was what I’d always hoped this trip would be, an awakening of sorts, even if it looked different than I’d expected. This added layer was an opportunity I could never have imagined throwing into the mix.
“I think…it’s a deal,” I said.
He folded the map conclusively. “Let the adventures begin.”