BLARNEY CASTLE STOOD tall and proud at the center of four hundred acres of beautiful, lush gardens. It seemed that at every corner flowers bloomed out of the earth in an explosion of color. From the massive trees to the babbling brook running through the property, the grounds were manicured to perfection. Dappled sunlight glinted off the greenest leaves Nathan had ever seen.
Unfortunately, the splendor of the place was having a hard time competing with the turbulence in his mind. What the hell was he thinking? After Paris, one would think that he’d learned his lesson. Keep his feelings to himself. Preston wasn’t interested in love. But Nathan was sure they’d had a moment. Why would Preston lick Nathan’s finger like that if there wasn’t something there?
It was driving him crazy. Preston had meant it as a joke. A way to get him to forgive the fights. Nathan knew this. Yet he still found himself in Ireland. Ready to kiss the Blarney Stone and gain the ability to speak his mind. Or something like that. Plus the top of a castle for a declaration of love? In his book that passed for romantic.
“It says here that only those brave enough to hang from the castle’s ledge will be granted it,” Preston said, reading from the brochure he’d snatched at the entrance.
“Granted what?” Nathan asked absentmindedly.
He was too preoccupied with staring up at Preston’s face. Despite the stress of travel, his friend looked more relaxed. He still swam on a daily basis, of course, but that was just to maintain his muscle memory. It wasn’t anything like his usual training schedule. A hundred laps a day was like breathing. So Nathan didn’t worry much anymore that Preston needing to hit the hotel pool every morning would interfere with their trip. It gave Nathan the time he needed to focus on party-planning stuff. He figured he’d get work out of the way so that once Preston finished his workout, they could enjoy the rest of their day.
“The gift of gab,” Preston clarified as they strolled along a path toward the castle. “It says here that you will have to hang off a ledge to be able to kiss the stone.”
Nathan tsked. “That’s nothing.”
“You sure?”
He ignored the skepticism as they entered the castle. He was here for love, and love conquered all—even his fear of heights. It wasn’t a phobia or anything, so Nathan believed everything would be all right.
Galvanized by the purity of his feelings, he determinedly faced the climb that would eventually lead them to the top of the keep.
“I have to admit, this is cool.”
The pure joy on Preston’s face touched Nathan deeply. He reminded himself to stay present in the moment as they navigated a spiral staircase that took them to yet another level. The last thing he wanted was to miss actually experiencing the place with Preston, who had to crouch through arched doorways. Apparently people weren’t very tall back then. Gooseflesh rose on his arms as they walked the corridors of old. Some of the walls were rough, while others were as smooth as polished marble.
They visited many rooms and paused to enjoy the view at each window. The higher they got, the more they could see of the countryside. Nathan began to imagine the castle as it was in its heyday, his mind conjuring up a multitude of maids, warriors, kings, and queens strolling along its halls.
“I’ve never seen anything like it,” he said in awe as they came to a particularly magnificent room with a high ceiling.
Preston looked up and turned in a circle. Then he touched Nathan’s shoulder, forcing him to look up at eyes the color of moss.
“Not bad,” he said.
Nathan caught himself thinking he could die happy. Finally, the guy who didn’t want to be here was warming up to the idea that maybe this wasn’t half-bad. And he hadn’t looked at his phone since entering the castle. Mission accomplished. Well, sort of.
“Come on.” Preston looked over his shoulder and grinned, gesturing toward another door by tilting his head. “We’re here.”
Nathan had been so caught up in experiencing the castle that he’d totally forgotten the purpose of their climb. He let Preston lead the way. His brain could only focus on moving one foot in front of the other. This was it. The dimness of the castle’s interior was replaced by bright sunlight. He squinted against the glare, shielding his eyes by placing his hand over them. A wonderful breeze ruffled his hair. This day couldn’t be any more perfect if doves flew in a V above them.
Since they weren’t the only tourists at the site, there was a line to the Blarney Stone. Preston kept his body directly in front of Nathan’s as they inched forward.
Once Nathan’s eyes adjusted to the sunlight, his gaze fell to the back of Preston’s neck. His tan stood out against the paleness of his hair. In a momentary lapse of sanity, Nathan found himself wondering what it would feel like to weave his fingers through the blond strands.
Tempted by the idea of touching Preston, he hadn’t noticed that they’d reached the front of the line until someone said his name. He blinked back into reality only to find everyone staring expectantly at him—Preston, the other tourists, and the man in a Windbreaker sitting by the ledge who assisted those who wanted to kiss the stone.
“All right,” Preston said with a shrug. “I guess I’ll go first.”
“Wait…” Nathan reached out, but it was too late. Preston had already stepped onto the ledge. At the assistant’s instructions, he turned around and sat on the edge of the parapet. He closed his hands around the metal bars bolted to the rock face behind him. The assistant placed his arms on either side of Preston’s waist and told him, in lilting, Irish-accented English, to lean back.
Nathan’s heart pounded against his rib cage. He couldn’t find his breath. His chest constricted almost painfully. A part of him wanted to reach out and pull Preston to safety before he plummeted to his death eight stories below. The other part of him was rooted in place, unable to move a single muscle.
The breeze was no longer soothing. It had turned into a gust that dried the cold sweat dotting his brow. He attempted to swallow, but the walls of his throat refused to move. A small keening sound reached his ears.
“Pres,” he whispered.
* * *
A rush of adrenaline coursed through Preston’s body as he lay back and touched his lips to the smooth surface of the Blarney Stone. A sense of danger and accomplishment whirled inside him. Like gaining a superpower, he thought he could do anything. Maybe there was something to the legend.
There were metal bars everywhere. Someone would have to be terribly unlucky to actually fall. It was safe, but he couldn’t deny the thrill that still went through him while dangling eight stories from the ground.
He let out a whoop and bounced back to his feet. The other tourists cheered. Even the assistant clapped. Then his gaze landed on a pale Nathan. All his excitement vanished faster than a magician in a cloud of smoke.
“Nate?” He rushed to his trembling friend. “What’s wrong?”
Nathan shook his head. His eyes were focused on a far-off point, his pupils tiny pinpricks. Preston remembered the time, as kids, when Nathan had boldly challenged everyone to a tree-climbing contest. Nathan had reached the top first, climbing like a spider monkey. Then, when he had realized he was so high up, he had frozen the same way he stood frozen now. It took the fire department to get him down. Preston hoped it wouldn’t have to come to that in this case.
“Nate,” he said as calmly as his racing heart would allow. “Nate, look at me.”
In the slowest five seconds ever, Nathan’s eyes moved to focus on his before he whispered, “Pres…”
It was such a small sound, but it was something.
“Happens all the time,” the assistant said.
Ignoring the concern quickly spreading around them, Preston bent down and angled his head so he was what Nathan saw and not the parapet’s edge.
“Breathe, Nate.” He took an exaggerated breath. “See? Concentrate on my breathing. That’s it.”
Soon shaking fingers reached out and clutched the front of his shirt. Preston waited, unmoving.
It took another couple of seconds before Nathan’s breathing evened out enough for him to say, “It’s so high up.”
“No stone kissing for you.” Preston rolled his eyes. “Come on.”
“I feel like such a failure,” Nathan said once they were back inside.
Preston took the lead, the narrow staircase only allowing for a person at a time to descend. “Shut up. It was really high up. And it said in the brochure that the ritual can still trigger attacks of acrophobia.”
Nathan huffed a sad laugh. “Only the brave shall be granted it.”
“Huh?”
“Isn’t that what you said earlier? That only the brave will be granted the gift of gab?” He sniffed.
“Hey.” Preston turned around to face Nathan, making sure to stay a step below him so they were at eye level with each other. “You are not a failure. You don’t lose anything by not kissing the stone.”
“You don’t understand,” he said, biting his lip as if to keep himself from saying more.
“Spit it out.”
“It’s just…” Nathan dropped his gaze and sighed. “It’s just when I saw you leaning back, I suddenly wanted to pull you up because I was sure you would fall. But I was so scared that I couldn’t move. What happens if you’re ever dangling from a cliff and I’m the only one there to save you and I freeze up and I can’t save you and you fall?”
“Uh, okay. Are you hearing yourself?”
Shaking his head harder this time, Nathan said, “But what if—”
“Nate, focus,” Preston cut him off. “You’re forgetting who has more upper-body strength here. If I’m ever dangling off a cliff, I can easily pull myself up.”
Like he had done at the parapet, Nathan blinked. The clarity in his eyes said he was beginning to understand how crazy he was being.
“Now, take a deep breath. That’s it. And let it out slowly.” When Nathan had done what he’d been asked, a corner of Preston’s lips rose. “Next time no more heights, agreed?”
“Promise.” Nathan nodded once, looking steadier on his feet. “No more heights.”
“Good.” Turning back around, Preston continued their descent. “Let’s get out of here. Risking my life made me hungry.”
“So not funny.”