chapter 17

I think about the way she kissed me on Valentine’s Day, and the feel of her soft body beneath my hands.

I guess I am.

“How about we have a bet?” I ask.

“A what?”

“A bet.”

“What kind of bet?”

“Come to the Sky Tower with me and watch me jump off. If I back out, I’ll do it in a cup for you, and you can have all the semen you want. But if I jump, you give me one night.”

She stares at me. Then she laughs. “You’d never jump off in a million years.”

“So what have you got to lose?”

“Huxley, do you remember that time we went into the restaurant at the top of the Sky Tower? You couldn’t even sit near the window. You spent the whole evening with your back to the view, practically glued to the column. We had to peel you off it.”

“Yeah…”

“So how, exactly, do you think you’re going to jump off?”

“I don’t know. I’m already beginning to doubt my sanity.”

“I’ve done it myself, remember? For charity a couple of years ago. It’s over six hundred feet—a hundred and ninety-two meters. Fifty-three floors. Y