Rebound (Boomerang #2)(55)

“Not if they have expert navigators,” Jasmine replies. She explains that each team is to select one mask and one rope. The pilot and navigator will be tethered together, and the pilot will wear the mask. “You’ll find three blue cones among all of the orange ones on your course. Your job as navigator, my precious angels, is to guide your pilots to each of the blue cones by giving them directions and gently guiding them with the rope. Each time you reach a blue cone, you’ve come to a Trust Layover.”

Adam shakes his head and shoots me a grin. “Well, I like the blindfold part, at least.”

Jasmine continues her instructions. “At each layover, your navigator’s allowed to ask you any question, and your job is to answer truthfully. Unburden your heart so it has more room to be filled with love and life. And trust that your truth is precious to your partner, and that truth will be cared for and protected.”

I can’t help looking at Adam again, wanting to know if I can believe that, if I can give him my secrets. If he can give me his.

It strikes me that this exercise is tailor-made to my father’s purposes, but that using it that way is the lowest thing I can imagine. I can’t do it. I won’t. And that realization unburdens me, makes me feel light and a little giddy. The way I felt when he kissed me on the back of the snowmobile. The way he makes me feel, period.

“Come on, Blackwood,” I say. “Let’s get a blindfold on you.”

“Not if I get one on you first,” he says and darts off toward Jasmine.

“Oh no, you don’t,” I say, and race behind him. But trying to run through calf-high snow is pretty much a futile pursuit, so it ends up looking like two people in the clumsiest slow motion ever.

We’re laughing when we reach Jasmine, and Adam manages to snag a blindfold just a second before my fingers reach for it.

“Oh, I adore this enthusiasm!” Jasmine says. “You’re such lovelies!”

“Come on, lovely,” Adam says, and twirls the blindfold in the air. “Let’s get this on you.”

We walk down a gentle slope, and I direct him toward one of the little obstacle courses that spreads out in a patch of sunlight. A green cone marks the starting point, and I hold out my hand for the blindfold.

He gives me a skeptical look. “Are you kidding, Quick? There’s no way I’m letting you put this on yourself.” Moving closer, he reaches up and smoothes my hair back behind my ears. “You have the softest hair,” he tells me. Then he places the silken fabric over my face. “Hold that,” he instructs. And I hold it against my eyes, hating to block out the sight of him.

I feel the weight of his arms on my shoulders as he reaches around me to tie the blindfold, giving it a sharp tug to secure it. His body brushes against me, and the hard length of him grazes my hip.

“Sorry,” he whispers in my ear. “I guess masks excite me.”

I tremble, not from the cold but from the growl in his voice, the feel of him against me. The memory of our last time in masks.

“A good navigator wouldn’t try to distract his pilot,” I tell him. Of course, a good pilot probably wouldn’t want to throw her navigator into a snow mound and jump on top.

Adam fumbles around with something for a moment, and then I feel the length of cord circling my waist, being tugged taut. “Shit,” he says. “Blindfolds and rope. I’m in big trouble here, Quick.”

I laugh. “I’m surprised you can be around horses at all then,” I say. “All kinds of sexy tackle.”

“Don’t say the words ‘sexy tackle’ to me. I’m having a hard enough time.”

“Yes, I noticed how hard a time you’re having.”

He laughs and then I feel him move away from me. “Okay, let’s do this,” he says. “Take about a half step to your right and then walk about two short paces.” He gives the rope a gentle tug to my right to align me, and I step forward.

“Perfect.” He gives me further directions, tugging just a bit here and there as needed, but mainly guiding me with his voice. Even blindfolded, I feel perfectly secure, attuned to him. And there’s a freedom to being locked in this world without vision. Everything becomes his voice, the gentle pull of the rope, my careful steps in the snow. All the chatter in my head falls away, and we’re just a perfect, choreographed dance—flawless together.

“Okay, stop right there,” Adam says. “We’ve reached a blue cone.”

My feet plant, and I wait, thrilled and afraid of the question he’ll ask.

“Tell me what happened with you and Ethan.”

My throat tightens. I don’t know what I expected, but I didn’t expect this. I’m surprised he doesn’t already know. Mia works for him. He plays poker with Ethan. I’m touched that neither of them told him, and their kindness makes me bold.

“I cheated on him.” In my mind, the words freeze into ice and hover in the air between us. I don’t offer anything else. I see it all so differently now, and no other words seem necessary—especially not excuses.

I wish I could see Adam’s face now, see how he’s looking at me. We’re quiet for a moment, the chatter and laughter of the others echoing around us.

Then he just says, “Okay. Move about four inches to the left.”

He guides me through the course until we reach another blue cone. Coming to stand close to me, he asks, “Why?” His voice is gentle and probing but without an ounce of accusation.