The Start of Time

Chapter 30

Or at least I thought I knew him all too well.

My initial expectations for this date began with an extremely fancy dinner and some high class restaurant just far enough away to keep us inconspicuous. The crisp white tablecloths. The smell of fresh roses wafting from table to table through the air. A clear, breathtaking rooftop view.

But instead we have somehow ended up in what feels like the middle of nowhere. The only visible momentum's of viable life are an old tower and a dimly lit slab of concrete.

Located directly in the center is a shiny black helicopter, shimmering in the moonlight.

"Umm, Declan. What is this?" I ask hesitantly, pointing towards the sleek, futuristic chopper in front of me.

"You said we could do something wild, and you told me you preferred helicopter rides over yachts."

"Yeah," I sigh softly. "I guess I did."

Would now be the right time to inform him that I have a slight fear of heights? Nothing too crazy, but enough for the entirely see through door to cause knots in my stomach. Maybe if I can pull myself together for long enough, my adrenaline junkie side will kick in, and then I'll be fine. If it works for big roller coasters and zip lining, then it should work for this, right?

I really shouldn't be surprised. I mean, it's Declan fucking Wilder. He has no earthly idea what the word subtle means. How could I not expect a helicopter?

On a positive note, our pilot is the cutest thing ever. All dashing in his uniform, quickly giving us the rundown spill before we climb in to take off.

Declan offers me his hand to help me step into the death trap, and I immediately regret wearing heels. He slips in behind me as the door closes behind us. After fumbling with the first, I'm working on clicking the second strap into the center harness when Declan interrupts, replacing my hands with his own.

"Hold on, princess. I've got you."

He leans in closely, pulling both of the upper straps to lock me in tightly, tugging on them until I'm safely glued to the seat. His crouched position leaves him intimately close, just close enough to inhale his aromatic cologne, the sweet base notes nearly hidden by the spicy top ones.

The perfect compliment to my simple vanilla. Intoxicatingly sweet with a little bit of spice—just like us.

An odd sense of Deja vu surfaces on the temporal lobe of my brain while I'm admiring his handsomely concentrated face.

"You are definitely not allowed to watch Fifty Shades anymore, sir. Especially not without some parental guidance from your woman."

Blood rushes to his cheeks, and he tucks his bottom lip between his teeth to restrain his smile. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

Who's playing coy now, Mr. Wilder?

I believe I may have said that just a little too loud because our pilot raises his eyebrows and sends a small smirk our way. Now, it's my turn to blush, and no amount of Stella's foundation would be able to cover how red my face is right now.

When he hands us a weird looking set of large headphones, I expect them to soften the buzzing as the chopper starts up, but the static only adds to the noise as the extensive control panel lights up, all the buttons coming to life.

As we slowly rise higher and higher, Declan turns his head to smile at me softly, but all I can focus on is how my stomach, along with any courageous nerve in my body, has been left on the ground below us.

Breathe in, breathe out. Everything is going to be fine.

I nod when Declan mouths, "You okay?" But the second he grabs my hand, I squeeze it tightly, leaning in towards him as far as my belt will allow, which thanks to Declan is less than a centimeter.