And that’s when the world’s worst, most genius idea slips into my head. “Or…” “Or what?” Caleb replies, one elbow leaning on his rail. I judge the distance. Not even two feet, with more than enough space where both our balcony railings extend out. Easy peasy. Just don’t look down. “Or I could just climb over there.” He blinks at me. “The fuck you say? We’re on the fourth floor. You fall, you fall to your death, Doc. Splat.” “I’m not going to fall,” I huff. “Look, just extend out your arms and we can better judge the distance—” “No,” he barks, taking a step back. “No fuckin’ way. I’m not gonna
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