Read Online The Fear of Letting Go by Sarra Cannon - Free Book Online Page A

this before?
    I'm amazed at her fearlessness. How can she just take off without even giving it a second thought?
    I lean my head back and let out a nervous breath. Crap, I can't let her go up there without me. Maybe she's right. Maybe it is time to challenge myself. Do something different and daring.
    I swallow and take three deep breaths in and out. I walk to the bottom of the water tower and wrap one shaky hand around the bar. My chest rises and falls with each nervous breath. I close my eyes, knowing it's best not to look up and see how far it is to climb. It's best to just do it and not think at all.
    “Come on, Preston,” Jenna calls down. “You can do this. I promise you, there's a major reward for you, if you make it up here.”
    I look up, despite my better judgment, and see her already at the top, holding on to the railing and leaning over.
    I pRob to God the reward is finally knowing what her lips taste like.
    That would be worth climbing up and down this thing a hundred times.
    I step back from the tower and pull my jacket and sweater off. I'm so nervous, I'm sweating in all these clothes. I strip down to my black t-shirt and psych myself up. If Jenna can do this, I can do this.
    I step to the ladder and just start climbing. I try not to think about how high up I am or how far I still have to go. I just climb, thinking of Jenna's face and what it would be like to kiss her and hold her in my arms.
    I put one hand above the other, carefully making sure my foot is firmly planted on the ladder before I try to push myself up another step. The higher I go, the sweatier my palms become. I wipe them on my jeans and cling to the side, having to take a break to catch my breath.
    I make the terrible mistake of looking down to see how far I've gone. I am disoriented, and for one horrifying moment, I'm afraid I'm going to fall.
    Fear catches in my throat, cutting off my breath. I pull in close to the ladder and lean my head against the cold metal.
    “I can't do this,” I shout.
    “Yes, you can,” she says. “You're already more than half-way. The hardest part was taking that first step, trust me. All you have to do is not give up.”
    I force air into my lungs and find the courage to keep moving.
    Jenna keeps talking as I climb.
    “You are so much stronger than your fears,” she says. “How many chances have you gotten to really prove your own strength? To show that you are more than just Tripp Wright's son? More than the money in your bank account, or the car that you drive? This is your chance. Just keep climbing. You're doing amazing.”
    I focus on the sound of her voice. I climb and push through the fear that threatens to paralyze me.
    And when I hit the top of the water tower and step onto the platform, the pride and excitement and relief that washes through me is better than any drug. I can't stop smiling.
    “I cannot believe I just did that,” I say. “Holy shit.”
    My hands are numb, but I force a fist into the air and shout.
    “Wooohoooo.”
    “Woohoo,” she yells, leaning over the railing. “You did it.”
    Jenna raises her hand to give me a high-five, but I pull her into my arms and spin her around on the platform. I expect her to pull away and make some excuse about this being too complicated, but she throws her arms around me and buries her face in my neck. I hold on to her for a long moment, and when she does finally pull away, we are both out of breath. Our faces so close I can't concentrate on anything but her lips.
    “Hey, I think you said something about a reward,” I say, my hands drawing the bottom of her shirt into fists as the back of my fingers brush the bare skin at her waist.
    For a moment, I think she is going to lean in and let me kiss her. Her eyes meet mine and her nails dig into the back of my neck, drawing me closer. But before I drop my lips to hers, she turns my head to the side and backs away.
    I draw in a breath and stare out. My lips part, and I can hardly believe the