They helped her unharness, but Alice was having trouble decoding the enthusiastic, encouraging comments people were making. The only thing she was sure of in a muzzy sort of way was that the task was done, and she’d survived. All she wanted now was to be alone. No one seemed to realize that her legs were barely holding her up and the edges of her vision were black. She didn’t really come back to herself even partially until she was back on the ground.
“Alice?” she heard Thad call out to her as she hurried down the trail in the general direction of the cabins.
“I’m going to head back to the cabin and take a shower before dinner,” Alice called back to him where he stood on the bottom steps of the platform. Thad nodded, but from the look on his face, he was a little suspicious. She waved in a friendly, reassuring fashion and resumed walking.
She was desperate to get away from them, as wild to be alone as an injured animal.
Five minutes later, Thad found her off the main trail in a small clearing in the woods, throwing up at the base of an oak tree.
Or finishing throwing up, anyway. By the time she felt his hand on her back, and she looked around, startled, almost everything in her stomach was long gone.
“Oh God,” she mumbled miserably when she saw him standing there, his brows slanted, his green eyes concerned. She wiped her mouth and straightened, stalking hastily away from the tree and heading aimlessly into the forest. Where could she go in this godforsaken place where she could be fucking alone? Couldn?
?t she even throw up without a Durand manager nearby tallying the contents of her stomach in a notebook, or worse yet, a gorgeous guy watching every disgusting moment?
“Alice,” Thad said tensely from behind her.
She just kept walking, barely keeping her head above a dizzying sea of mortification. Unfortunately, she was moving too fast for her rubbery legs and dazed state.
“Wait, Alice,” Thad implored, and she could tell by the proximity of his voice and the crunch of the brush under his feet he was jogging to reach her. He grabbed her hand. She whipped around at the physical restraint, ready to lay into him. He was closer than she thought. He slammed into her, and Alice’s legs buckled.
She fell hard on her butt in the tall grass.
For a few seconds, she just sat there, the meadow flowers and grass tickling her bare legs, the shock of the impact vibrating her brain.
“God, I’m sorry,” Thad said, dropping down on his knees heavily in the grass next to her. He touched her back. “Alice? Are you okay?”
She brought him into focus. Strangely, the harsh shock of the fall had cleared her head. His burnished blond hair glistened in the sunlight. His already deep tan had grown a shade or two darker being outdoors almost constantly for the past few days. He looked like a young, golden nature god with the lush, verdant foliage surrounding him. He squinted at her worriedly, turning his green eyes into emerald slits.
“Of course I’m not okay,” she said irritably. “I just fell on my ass. Hard. And didn’t anyone ever tell you it was rude to watch someone throwing up?”
“I’m sorry. I was looking for you and I just happened to come upon you while—Alice, are you going to be okay?”
The full extent of his worry fully penetrated her awareness. She grimaced. “Yes. I’m fine,” she mumbled. “Aside from the fact that I could have done without you seeing that.”
He slumped onto the ground next to her, his thigh near her hip, his arm planted behind her. She looked at him warily. The clearing where they sat was cast in part sunlight, part shade from the surrounding trees. He flipped open a button on one of the pockets on his longish cargo shorts and silently handed her a bottle of water.
“Thanks,” she said earnestly after she’d rinsed out her mouth and taken several swallows. He took back the bottle and capped it when she’d finished.
“What made you throw up?” he asked simply.
She stared at her bent knees and distractedly picked at a piece of grass. “The zip line. I’m scared shitless of heights,” she replied succinctly. When he didn’t reply, she glanced at his face. He looked bemused.
“What’s wrong?” she asked a little defensively. “Lots of people are afraid of heights.”
He shook his head. “Nothing. It’s just … You seemed fine when we unhooked you from the harness.”
“Why’d you follow me, then?”
He quirked his eyebrows. “Not because I thought you were sick. I was just trying to get you alone.”
“Oh,” she said softly after a stunned moment. She studied her knee intently.
“Have you always been afraid of heights?” he asked her. The hairs on her nape and arm stood on end. His voice sounded closer, like he’d leaned in.
“For as long as I can remember. It’s my first memory, waking up in a hospital when I was really little. Apparently I’d fallen off the ladder of an abandoned water tower in my neighborhood.”
“So you must not have always been afraid.”