He realized that was exactly what he would have done if she hadn’t warned him. And he could instantly imagine how the delayed turn of the wheel could cause disaster. “Right.”
She sat back and exhaled hard. “Ready.”
While the directors jockeyed over last-second camera changes, Chase searched for that safe spot inside himself. Instead of finding it, he muttered, “I have an overwhelming urge to tell you to be careful.”
She laughed. One of those real, bubbly laughs she’d gifted him with countless times during their magical weekend. Longing tugged deep inside him.
“There’s a coffee shop directly in front of the spot where I bail,” she told him. “When you see me drop in your peripheral vision, I want your eyes glued to that neon green sign: The Human Bean. Got it?”
“The Human Bean. Got it.”
Nerves jumped and sizzled. He hated that she wasn’t tied into the harness. Hated the sickening thought of her exiting just wrong enough to hit her head. But, damn, if they found their way back to each other, he’d have to find a way to deal with it, wouldn’t he?
One problem at a time.
The director signaled Chase. He took a deep breath, filling his lungs until he pushed the nerves away, then exhaled hard.
A crew member jogged into the street to call the scene and take. The clapboard snapped, and the kid jogged out of sight again.
“You can totally do this,” Zahara said, her voice supportive and sweet. “I’ve been watching you practice. You’ve hit the skid point perfectly every time.”
“Ready…and,” the director yelled, “action.”
Buoyed by Zahara’s praise, Chase floored the gas. With Wes’s guidance in Chase’s ear, he executed the drive right on target. But when the countdown came, he chanced a split-second look at Zahara just before he tapped the brake. She sat forward in her seat, one hand on the door handle, her gaze out the passenger’s window. Her jaw was tight, her muscles rigid. She radiated power and confidence.
She’s a professional passed through his head a second before he pushed the car into a slide.
In the flash of a second, Zahara pulled the handle and was gone.
Just gone.
Panic seared Chase’s ribs, but his training took over, Zahara’s words sang in his head, and he focused on the bright green The Human Bean sign in the coffee shop’s window. He turned the wheel and pushed the gas pedal, accelerating out of the skid.
Zahara flew five feet before she connected with the pavement.
Arms tucked against her body, chin to chest, Zahara hit the ground. The impact jarred the air from her lungs, but with her adrenaline roaring, she barely felt her body connect with the asphalt. She kept her muscles coiled tight and rode the momentum to roll as far as possible.
The thrill of spinning down the street at crazy speeds bubbled up in her belly. If she could have laughed, she would have, but the tumble closed her throat and held in every sound.
When she finally slowed, her lungs released, allowing air to flow. She opened her eyes to the alternating sight of pavement-sky, pavement-sky, pavement-sky. And finally came to rest on her belly.
She hated when that happened. Because now she had her nose to the asphalt for her first full breath. She also had to find the strength to roll over while her body registered the hell she’d just put it through.
As soon as she made it to her back, laughter bubbled out. The crew cheered, and Wes appeared above her, grinning like an idiot.
“You nailed it, as usual,” he said, offering his hand.
She held up an index finger. “Give me just a second.”
Taking stock of her body, she took a deep breath first. Ribs intact—check. She stretched her arms and legs. No major limb damage—check. She threaded her fingers through her hair. Skull undamaged—check.
“What’s wrong?” Chase’s worried voice registered right before he dropped to a knee next to her. “Are you hurt?”
“No,” she said, irritated he’d interrupted her damage assessment. “I’m just making sure I’ve still got everything I left the car with.”
He squeezed his eyes closed and bowed his head on an exhale. “Jesus Christ.”
“You’re going to have to toughen up if you plan to keep doing stunts,” she told him, pushing up on her elbows.