A gust of wind caught my skirt.

A gust of wind caught my skirt, lifting it higher than I'd ever imagined. I heard something from the ground below — a shout, maybe a laugh, I couldn't tell over the wind — before the fabric dropped back down. My cheeks burned hot, but there was a strange pulse in my throat. A forbidden thrill, and no way to know how much of it had been real.

Chloe was laughing beside me, head tipped back. "This is INCREDIBLE!" she shouted — and for half a second the laugh caught, clipped short, like she'd swallowed the end of it. I barely registered it before the wind took my attention again.

I glanced over and saw her top had slipped, the strap loose at her shoulder. My stomach did something complicated. *Does she know? Should I say something?* Every time we swung around I found myself checking — her cleavage, the ground, her again — unable to settle on which mattered more.