“I remember,” I mutter as he gently pushes me forward.

“And you wanted to feel all the feels.” Closer to the edge.

“You remember I said that?”

He rolls his eyes and holds out a big hand. I try not to think as I take it. He tugs me to the side and lets the next pair go ahead of us. He dips his head close to mine and his voice is low and rumbly.

“If you’re really afraid, I’ll walk you back down. But only if your fear is greater than your desire to experience this.”

I swallow hard. “It’s just, I can’t remember why I’m even doing this. This is bananas.”

Micah’s eyes narrow, but not in an angry way. He seems to be considering his words carefully. Finally, he says, “Would your mom let you do this?”

I quickly shake my head.

“But God created this beautiful place. He made these rocks, this sunshine, the clear waters of Lake Superior. He formed you and your sense of adventure. He even made me and my need for this rush of jumping off cliffs … and he introduced us.” His eyes dart away from mine at that last part. I catch my bottom lip between my teeth.

“I don’t know a lot about you, but I remember every bit of that first time we talked at the point. It’s annoying, actually.” His lips twist in a smile. “But that girl who talked a stranger into giving up his spot so she could pray and reflect and live out some Pride and Prejudice fantasy is definitely someone who can run off the edge of these rocks.”

I inhale through my nostrils. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yes. I want to do it. Alone.”

His smile spreads across his face, and my breath catches a little at how handsome Micah is.

“You badass,” he says. “Want me to go first or second?”

I weigh the options. Either he’ll be down there, in the water, waiting for me, or on the cliff, waiting on me. The image of having someone waiting for me—someone I can reach for—is too good to pass up. “First, please?”

“You got it.” We’re easily let back into the line. People seem more than happy to let someone else jump first.

Micah walks confidently to the edge, his bare feet picking over the sharp stones with no problem. He peeks over the top, waving at whoever is at the bottom. Once the water is clear, he turns to face me. His clever eyes quickly take me in. My arms wrapped around my middle. My trembling limbs. My pallor.

And with a smirk worthy of any romantic hero, he jumps backward off the cliff, holding my gaze until he disappears from view.

I’m not exaggerating when I say I’m pretty sure he took my heart with him.