Second Chance: A Military Football Romance - Page 381

And just like that, I was outside.

*****

Graham was right—there was a brilliant full moon, bathing everything in a milky light. The trees cast shadows across the front lawn. I hadn’t planned on turning my headlights on until I’d turned out of our driveway, but really, it was so bright out, I wouldn’t have needed the headlights at all.

I scurried over to my car and got in. At the end of the driveway, I did turn the headlights on, and I felt a sense of freedom as I pulled out onto our quiet road. I’d never done anything like this as a teenager

, and I felt as though I were doing something now that I should’ve been doing then. Why had I been so caught up with being such a stickler for all my parents’ rules? I put all the windows down and hung my left arm out the window. I didn’t speed, though I wanted to, but just the feel of the air whipping my hair around was good enough.

He was waiting in his truck when I got there. I parked behind him and then hopped into the front seat of the truck.

“Success,” I said.

He leaned over the center console and we kissed. A shiver shot down my spine. The few guys that I had kissed before Graham were nothing compared to this. Any insecurity about it that I had previously felt melted away. He brought his hand up and cupped the side of my face, running his thumb along my jawline.

“Mmm,” he said. He settled back into his seat and started the truck. “You ready for this?”

“I think so. Except I have no idea where we’re going.”

He grinned. “It’s gonna be awesome. You’ll love it.”

We started to drive out of town. He turned down several residential roads I’d never been down before, and then took another turn down an unpaved road, driving for a little while before we came to a parking area.

“Where are we?” I asked as we got out.

“Clear Lake,” he said. “Ever been here?”

“No, I haven’t.”

“It’s one of my favorite swimming spots. One of the cleanest lakes in the state, probably; it’s about 90 feet deep at its deepest. But in the summer, it gets really crowded, so I usually stay away until the season’s over. Except on nights like this, because there’s an awesome rope swing.”

“I’ve never done that, either,” I said, feeling a little lame. “I did go to a water park once; there was a huge water slide there,” I added, as though that might somehow redeem me.

“I’d say the rope they’ve got set up here beats any water slide. But you’ll have to try to it out for yourself. We’re going to walk through the woods for a little bit,” he said. “Normally I’d bring a flashlight, but on nights like this, there’s no need to.”

A narrow footpath threaded its way through the woods, and I followed close behind Graham. It felt thrilling and a little wild to be out in the woods at night like this. The air was full of the sound of spring peepers, and the moonlight gave everything an ethereal, otherworldly feel.

I heard a sound. “What was that?” I asked, freezing.

Graham stopped too, listening. “People,” he said. “Come on.”

“People?” I repeated skeptically. I felt a surge of nervousness—where had he taken me? What were we doing? But he reached out and took my hand, quelling the nervousness.

“It’s a popular area,” he said. “For good reason.”

We followed the path for a few more minutes before it opened into a clearing; we were on a bluff, it seemed, above the lake. The full moon was reflected perfectly on the water’s black, glassy surface. There were several people there, and they were taking turns swinging into the lake from a long rope attached to a thick branch connected to a tall tree overlooking the lake.

“Wow,” I said, watching as someone grabbed the rope and took a running leap. The rope swung out over the pond, and at the apex, the person let go and dropped into the lake. “You weren’t joking.”

For some reason, when he said rope swing, the image that came to mind was something much smaller, something dinky and cute that little kids would use, something that would gently arc out of the water. This rope swing, though, was absolutely nothing like that. I looked up, and the branch the rope was attached to seemed impossibly high, to the point that I wondered how on Earth someone had gotten up there to attach it in the first place. And then, of course, I couldn’t help but wonder if it was secure, and what the chances were that the rope would simply not hold?

But while I stood there wondering that, the rope came swinging back and someone else reached out and snatched it. There were several knots of varying sizes tied in the rope, and the person let out a yell and then took off.

“That looks insane,” I said.

“First time here?” a girl asked me. She looked like she was a few years younger than me.

“Yeah,” I said.

Tags: Claire Adams Romance
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