“Whaddya think?” Elliot claps me on the back.

I grin. “This is pretty fucking excellent.”

Danielle is last to land on the platform. “That was our first. They get higher and faster.”

“Bring it!” I exclaim.

Two hours later, still buzzing from our high-wire activity, we’re back on the road, Elliot behind the wheel. “Bro, as experiences go, that was right up there,” I acknowledge.

“Better than sex?” Elliot cackles. “You’ve only just discovered it—so probably not.”

“I’m a little more discerning in my tastes than you are, dude.”

“I just like to spread the love around. The Big E wants what the Big E wants.”

I shake my head with a snort of derision. I do not want to think about the Big E. “Can we get some real food now?”

Elliot grins. “Nope, sorry, bro. You don’t want a full stomach for what we have planned next. Eat the sub.”

“Next? Elliot, the zip line was great. There’s more?”

“Oh, yes. Suck it up, buttercup.”

Gingerly, I pick up one of the subs.

“Those are made by my own fair hand.”

“Don’t put me off.”

“The finest bologna, tomato, and provolone cheese this side of the Rockies have gone into those sandwiches.”

“I’ll take your word for it.”

“You need to broaden your culinary horizons.”

“With bologna?”

“Whatever it takes. Unwrap that for me.”

I peel off the parchment paper and hand him the dubious-looking creation. He shoves it in his mouth and starts to chow down. It’s not a sight for the fainthearted, and I realize I have no choice, it’s bologna or starve.

While I eat, I text Ana.

Zip-lining.

That’s what Elliot had planned.

And bologna sandwiches.

I’m living the dream.

ANA

LOL! I’m spending a great deal of your money.

Not entirely consensually.

Caroline Acton is a force to be reckoned with.

She reminds me of you.

Stay safe with whatever Elliot throws at you!

Love you.

And miss you. xxx

I love it when you spend my money.

It will very soon be your money, too.

Will report on Elliot’s next “surprise.”

xxx

Elliot drives smoothly off I-5 onto the 2. Where the fuck are we going? I thought we were headed back to Seattle.

“Surprise,” he responds to my questioning look.

Seems to be his word of the day.

Fifteen minutes later he pulls into the parking lot at Harvey Airfield.

“Hey, there’s a steakhouse here—we could have had some real food,” I grumble.

“Maybe later—we’ve got a class to catch.”

“Class?”

“Come on, hotshot, you’ve not guessed it yet?” He drives past the steakhouse.

“No.”

“We’re taking the plunge, because you’re taking the plunge.”

What the hell?

Elliot puts me out of my misery. “Skydiving.”

“Oh. Okay.” Fuck!

“It’ll be great. I’ve done a tandem jump before. It’s wild.”

Of course he has.

“You’ll be fine.”

“Yeah. Sure.”

“Listen, you get married and women don’t let you do this shit. Come on.” Together we walk through the parking lot toward the sky-diving school, and my heart races. I like to be in control; tandem jumping means someone else is in control…and I’m strapped to them.

And they’re touching me. At a great altitude.

Hell.

I’ve been as high up as 15,000 feet in my sailplane, and 20,000 feet in Charlie Tango. But then I was seated and piloting an aircraft that could fly. Leaping out of a plane? Into the sky? At height?

Never.

Shit.

But I cannot, simply cannot, wimp out in front of Elliot. I swallow my apprehension as we enter the building.

My brother has booked us an exclusive jump. After a short informative video, we sit through a briefing with Ben, our instructor, and I’m grateful that it’s just Elliot and me in the class. I was coached on how to use a parachute as part of my glider training, but I’ve never actually done a jump. While Ben is explaining what we need to do and what to expect, it occurs to me that I haven’t provided this training for Ana. She needs to do this before she goes up in ASH 30 again.

When Ben, who looks younger than me, has completed our instruction, he hands us each a waiver. Elliot signs it immediately, while I read through. My anxiety begins to climb, settling in my stomach. I am about to jump out of an aircraft from a high altitude.

Deep breath, Grey.

I realize that if something were to happen to me, Ana would be left with nothing.

To hell with that.

Once I’ve signed the form, on the back I write:

This is my last will and testament. In the event of my death I leave all my worldly goods to my beloved fiancée, Anastasia Steele, to be dispensed with as she sees fit.

Signed: Christian Grey

Date: 07/23/2011

I take a quick photo with my phone and zap it to Ros, before handing the signed waiver back to Ben, who laughs.