Page 61 of Bound To Be Mine

The line wasn’t long. We got our tickets and made our way through the line. The closer we got to the front, the more I questioned my life choices. The coaster looked even more terrifying from this angle.

“You okay?” Mandy asked, glancing over at me.

“Fine,” I lied.

“You’re gripping the railing.”

I looked down at my hands. She was right.

“I don’t like heights,” I admitted.

Her expression softened. “We don’t have to do this.”

“No, we’re doing it.” I forced myself to let go of the railing. “You’re right. Maybe it’ll trigger something.”

“That’s my thought. For the record, I’m not exactly thrilled to be doing this.”

“Great. I’m glad we both have real hesitation about doing something dangerous. We definitely shouldn’t take that as a sign of impending doom.”

She laughed and ignored what I wanted to call intuition.

We got into the front car—of course Mandy wanted the front—and pulled the safety bar down. It locked with a solid click that felt entirely too final.

“Last chance to back out,” Mandy said, but she was grinning.

“Too late now.”

The coaster lurched forward, and we began the slow climb up the first hill. I could see all of Vegas spread out below us, a sea of lights and chaos. My heart was hammering against my ribs.

“This is insane,” I said.

“Yep.”

We crested the hill, and for one brief moment, everything was still.

Then we dropped.

Mandy screamed—not in terror but in pure joy. The sound was infectious. Before I knew what I was doing, I was yelling too, the adrenaline erupting from my very soul.

We whipped around a corner. Mandy’s hand reached over and her fingers laced through mine, squeezing tight. I squeezed back, holding on as we plunged into another drop.

It felt good. Really good. The wind in my face, the rush in my veins, Mandy’s hand in mine. For the first time in years, I wasn’t thinking about contracts or consequences or what could go wrong. I was just existing in the moment, feeling alive.

We climbed up toward the last peak, still holding hands. I was catching my breath, grinning like an idiot, when something caught my eye.

A billboard. Massive, lit up bright as day against the dark sky.

“Want to get married? This is your sign.”

Giant arrows on the sign pointed down toward a chapel tucked beneath it.

I turned to look at Mandy, my mouth falling open.

“I think I know where we got the idea to get married,” I said.

She followed my gaze and burst out laughing. “Oh my God. That’s it. That has to be it.”

The coaster began its final descent. We’d probably been sitting right here, high on adrenaline and drunk on liquor, and we’d seen that sign. And apparently, it had worked on us.