What it Takes to Fall

by Ellis, C. R.

  Bryce looked up at the leaderboard, and when he realized he'd surpassed the previous record, a victory smile spread across his face, making him all the more appealing. He swiveled his hips in a hilarious, yet adorable, victory dance.

  “Well, well, well. Looks like I was right to start thinking about frames after all," he said. "But I guess you’ve already had a whole lap to realize that.” His rich, smooth tone dripped with a playful arrogance only he could pull off. That, combined with his victorious smirk, nearly made me drop my helmet so I could fan myself.

  “I can’t decide which quality is more attractive right now—your undying humility or your terrible dance moves,” I retorted, peeling the head sock off and attempting to smooth out my hair.

  Bryce laughed and set our helmets on a table. “You forgot my charming personality and dashing good looks.”

  “It’s definitely not your humility.”

  “Knew it was the good looks.”

  “I didn’t say they were attractive to me.”

  Bryce’s mouth gaped, but only for a second before he snapped it shut and rubbed his hand along his jawline. “Ouch. You wound me,” he jested, grabbing at his heart.

  My eyes rolled of their own accord, but I caught my smile before it could twist my lips. “Oh, whatever." I patted the top of his head. "Your ego’s up here, and we both know that’s the only part of you that’s wounded.” I tilted my head toward a group of elderly ladies sitting at a table across from us, all of them eyeing Bryce with appreciation. “But I bet your fan club over there would be willing to build your ego back up.”

  Bryce followed the tilt of my head, and the women giggled and waved. I couldn’t blame them for staring; now he was the one who brought the whole ‘sexy race car driver fantasy’ vibe to life.

  “Nah, I’m good. Nothing like a shot to the pride to keep a guy grounded. Plus, something tells me you’re bluffing.”

  I crossed my arms. “Why’s that?”

  Bryce leaned across the table, bracing himself at an angle that showcased his toned forearms. I tried not to stare, even though he was close enough that I could easily reach out and run my fingers along the ridged veins. When did forearms become sexy?

  His five o’clock shadow gently tickled my cheek as he whispered, “Let’s see…it’s either because of the ten different ways you eye-fucked me just now when I pulled off my helmet or the sounds you were giving me back in the parking lot. Take your pick.”

  I couldn’t exactly deny either of those allegations, but I realized I wanted to give Bryce a taste of his own medicine. Turn the tables on him. After all, Milo was right—I wasn’t some timid, self-conscious girl who lacked confidence. At least I wasn’t before Bryce came into the picture and made me tongue-tied. I straightened my shoulders, sucked in a breath, and pushed back from the table. “Let’s not pretend I was the only one affected by that kiss.” I dropped my gaze down his body, letting it linger just long enough for him to notice before looking back up at his face. “But the moment’s passed, Caesar. C’mon, let’s go play Skee-ball. Losing to you doesn’t sit well with me.”

  He grinned. “Better buckle up, then, Blondie; I have no intention of losing to you.”

  We spent the next hour trading victories. I beat him at Skee-ball. He dominated me at air hockey. I narrowly won the NASCAR game. He smoked me at the basketball game. When we were tied at two victories apiece, Bryce suggested pool as a tie-breaker. Technically, Bryce was one victory up on me because of the race, so winning pool was my only chance to actually even the score.

  I rolled up my metaphorical sleeves, twisted my fingers together, stretched them out with a few satisfying cracks, and got to work.

  Bryce was halfway decent, but I was better.

  “Oh, did I neglect to mention that Nana and Pops got a pool table for the game room when I was sixteen?” I asked, batting my eyelashes before bending over the table to sink the last ball. “Oops.”

  Bryce’s head dropped down, and he groaned in defeat. “I’d like the record to reflect this was not a clean victory,” he said, meeting my gaze with a disbelieving smile.

  “Thought you liked it dirty? Thought you said you didn’t mind going down?” I asked, biting my lip and stepping closer. “I gotta say…not many things feel better than being on top. Wouldn’t you agree?” I tilted my head back and traced my fingers along the scoop of my tank top. He froze, eyes widening in shock. “What’s the matter, Bryce? Afraid I’ll beat you at your own game?”

  I had to admit, this seductive sex-kitten act felt really good. Natural, almost. Which was strange, considering how much my attraction to Bryce had thrown me off initially. But, if there was one way to snap me out of my uncertainty over the way grownup-Bryce made me feel, it was competition. Competing against each other eliminated the potential for awkwardness from being on a first date and reshaped the parameters of our relationship.

  Bryce leaned forward, boxing me in, then reached around my body to put his pool stick away. He braced his hands against the wall on either side of me. “Afraid you’ll out dirty-talk me? Please. I’d fucking love to see you try, El. But I told you we’d take it slow, and that particular competition is a slippery slope into the danger zone. Plus, I think I wanna drag this out and enjoy this side of you a little more.” He brushed two fingertips along the same path my hand had just traveled, then leaned back, his blue eyes conveying all the dirty thoughts his mouth left unsaid.

  I swallowed hard and blinked slowly. “Drinks! We need drinks. I’ll go. Be right back.” I ducked out from under him and hightailed it toward the cafe without looking back.

  Holy crap. In what world did I think I’d ever be able to talk sexier or dirtier than Bryce? Just hearing the word fucking coming out of his mouth had me squeezing my thighs together.

  After hurriedly buying two beers, I walked back toward the table, gripping the plastic cups as if the condensation would seep into my skin and cool off more than my hands. Fortunately, between the relaxed smile Bryce wore and the refreshing taste of the summer shandy, we successfully avoided veering into conversations with more than a PG-13 rating.

  “Oh!” I exclaimed after Bryce mentioned something about renting a house a few blocks from Sipology, the bar his cousin managed. “I just realized you were going to tell me something yesterday when it started pouring, and then you never got to tell me. Something about your concept of home.”

  The conflicted expression that fell across his face confirmed I’d been right to bring it up again. He dropped his eyes to study the last of his beer, leaving me to wonder if he would reply, or if he’d try to brush off the topic.

  “Bryce…” I started, but quickly trailed off when our eyes met.

  His eyes darted away after a heartbeat, then, exhaling slowly, he looked back up at me. But as he opened his mouth to speak, my phone buzzed loudly against the table, lighting up with my sister’s name.

  “Crap! Sorry,” I sputtered, scrambling to silence the device.

  “I told you that I didn’t call you after I moved back because there are complications in my life.” He paused, then added, "That wasn’t exactly a lie, but it’s definitely not the explanation I should’ve given you. There’s so much more to it. The truth is—”

  My phone started vibrating again. Sophia. I silenced it again and flipped it over. It wasn’t like her to double-call, but she’d have to wait.

  I gave Bryce my undivided attention, urging him to continue.

  “The truth is, about a year and a half ago I got a call from a hospital in California on behalf of my ex-girlfriend, asking me to please get to Monterey Park as soon as possible. They wouldn’t tell me what was going on over the phone, but I assumed something had happened to Bridgette and that she still had me listed as her emergency contact. I caught the first flight I could and got to the hospital later that day. They immediately started asking me all kinds of questions. Did I know she had listed me as her baby’s father? Did I know anything about her whereabouts? Did she try to get in touc
h with me? At the time, I was too stunned to put the pieces together; all I could say was that I hadn’t seen or spoken to her since she moved to California six months prior. She’d never told me anything about being pregnant. They told me Bridgette had been thirty weeks along when she gave birth to a baby girl a week before, but had disappeared without a trace sometime during the previous night. None of it made any sense. Until they took me to the NICU and I laid eyes on the baby. My baby. She was tiny—just over three pounds. So much of her was hidden behind wires and tubes, but she was the most perfect thing I’ve ever seen. After I held her and let the magnitude of the situation sink in, they sat me down and explained the risk factors associated with her prematurity.

  “It was…terrifying, to be honest. In an instant, without warning, I became a dad. To a baby with a laundry list of potential health complications. The next few months are a bit of a blur—I can probably count on one hand the number of times I left the hospital. Bridgette never came back; she fell completely off the grid. I called her parents, who were also my bosses, and they were as stunned as I was, but were absolute godsends, taking turns flying down until I was able to bring Peyton back to Seattle. Becoming Peyton’s dad flipped everything about my life upside down, but I wouldn’t trade that title for anything."

  He paused, and I wanted to say something…anything…but words escaped me. I could barely process everything he’d just said.

  Bryce has a baby.

  He’s a parent.

  “Look, El," he said. "I know this is so far beyond anything you were expecting me to tell you, and I know it probably seems like I should’ve told you sooner, it’s just…you have to understand how protective I am of Peyton. For almost two years, this little girl…,” he stopped to pull up a picture on his phone and hand it to me. “She has been my life. My world. My only priority. So this—going out, letting myself have a life—is all a little new to me. Uncharted territory.”

  I took the phone on autopilot, replaying his words inside my head. An endless sea of questions flooded my mind with each piece of information he gave me. But as soon as I laid eyes on the tiny figure smiling at me through the phone’s screen, my heart filled with an indescribable warmth that silenced all the questions.

  I felt my lips pull into a smile.

  "She’s beautiful." I couldn’t tell how old she was in the photo—maybe six months—but she was his spitting image with big blue-ish eyes and dark lashes and a smile that matched her dad’s.

  In that moment, I understood.

  Why he moved back.

  Why he jumped on board with taking things slowly.

  Why he seemed to carry the weight of the world at times.

  But what I didn’t understand was his reluctance to tell me about her. It was the one question that refused to be silenced. And, ultimately, it was the one question I didn’t want to ask, but needed answered.

  “Bryce,” I said, though it came out as a hoarse whisper. “She’s so precious. Amazing. Perfect. I don’t…I don’t know what to say. This is just…”

  “A lot, I know,” he supplied for me with a nod. “I get it.”

  I was relieved. He seemed to understand my need for a few minutes to digest everything. I had no idea how long I stared at Bryce’s phone—at Peyton—before I looked up at him again.

  “You have a baby. You’re a dad,” I stated dumbly, feeling my eyes widen as the words left my mouth.

  Bryce nodded slowly, keeping his gaze on me to gauge my reaction.

  Despite my efforts to care for Sophia when we were still with Helen, I’d never been a ‘baby person.’ I didn’t play with baby dolls as a kid. Never really felt any maternal instincts.

  But seeing Peyton’s picture…I don’t know.

  Maybe it was because I’d once considered her dad to be my best friend.

  Maybe it was knowing that she’d been abandoned by her mom, like I had been.

  Maybe it was knowing that Bryce must’ve felt so incredibly overwhelmed.

  Maybe it was knowing that, despite everything I went through as a child, Peyton had already overcome so much more.

  Something about this little girl in the photo made me want to protect her from the world.

  It was a foreign feeling, and I had no idea what to make of it.

  “Where…who’s with her right now?”

  “She’s in Washington with her grandparents. When I moved us here, I promised them Peyton would come back for visits. It’s the least I can do after everything they’ve done for me, for us.”

  I nodded, still struggling to wrap my head around everything. I picked up my drink and gulped the rest of it down, hoping it would calm my racing thoughts.

  It didn’t.

  I can’t believe he kept this from me.

  “Bryce,” I finally said, fingers absently picking at the frayed hem of my shorts. “I get that she’s your priority, and she should be. One-hundred percent. And I get that you’re protective of her. I do. But I don’t get why you waited until now to tell me. It’s not like I’m some random stranger you just met and asked out. You’ve had multiple opportunities to tell me before tonight.”

  He shook his head slowly and sighed, as if he’d anticipated this kind of reaction. “That’s not fair. I did try. But then I got interrupted by Mother Nature.”

  “That’s my point, Bryce!” I exclaimed, trying and failing to temper my frustration with the situation. “You tried yesterday. What about the other times you saw me before that? You had every opportunity to tell me!”

  “What exactly should I have said? ‘Hey, it’s so great to see you again, El. By the way, I have a child.’”

  The sarcasm in his voice pushed my frustration to new heights. “Yes! No. I don’t know. I just…this is a lot. It’s a big deal, Bryce.” I shifted in my seat, my eyes bouncing around the room in an effort to avoid Bryce’s gaze.

  By the time I forced my attention back to the man across from me, his clenched jaw and crossed arms told me I wasn’t the only one exasperated with this conversation. “This, Elliot.” He uncrossed his arms to gesture the space between us. “This is why I didn’t tell you sooner. Because I knew you would use her as an excuse to put some distance between us. To put the brakes on before anything even happened.”

  “What? No. That’s…not true,” I argued, but the words sounded hollow even to my own ears.

  “No?” he asked, brows raised in disbelief. “Can you honestly say you’d be here right now if I had told you about Peyton earlier? That you’d let yourself see me as anything but a friend?”

  “You don’t get it, Bryce. I’m not…” I shook my head, swallowing the rest of my sentence.

  He reached across the table and pulled my hands into his. “I do get it, El.” Squeeze. I met his eyes and found nothing but sincerity in his gaze. “Look, I told you we’d take things slow. That hasn’t changed. Day by day, yeah?”

  I nodded, but before I could verbalize a response, my phone vibrated again. Through the entire conversation my phone had vibrated with incoming calls several more times, but each time I’d muted it to focus solely on Bryce. It was probably the seventh time Sophia or Milo had called, so I knew something was up.

  “Something’s not right. I need to take this,” I said, pushing up from my seat. I didn’t wait for Bryce’s response before walking away and swiping to answer Milo’s call. “Hey. What’s up?”

  “I know you’re on a date, and I’m sorry to do this, but you need to get home. Soph is freaking out. I think…El, I think she found your mom.”

  The second Milo’s words registered, my heart rate skyrocketed and my brain conjured the last memory I had of living with Helen.

  “Shh, Sophia. You have to keep quiet,” I whispered, patting my sister’s back while she cried. “Or Mommy will get mad.”

  She cried harder.

  I heard laughing from Mommy’s room, so I didn’t think they were asleep, but Mommy always got real mad when we made noise while she had friends over.

  “
Elliot! Shut her up,” Mommy yelled from her room.

  I felt around in the dark, trying to find Sophia’s pacifier, but it must have fallen off the couch. I needed to find it before Mommy or her friend got up. We’d be in big trouble. I got up and looked around on the floor, but I wasn’t fast enough.

  Mommy’s door opened, and I jumped up, turning to face her. Light from her room made it easy to see the pacifier right by her door.

  “I’m sorry, Mommy! I couldn’t find—"

  “You can’t even do one thing right! I should’ve known you’d be nothing but a screw-up.” She grabbed the pacifier off the floor and shoved it into Sophia’s mouth.

  I froze, too scared to ask what that meant.

  She looked at me and laughed. “That means you’ll grow up and be just like me one day.”

  “Elliot? Did you hear me?” Milo’s voice snapped me out of the memory and brought me back to the present.

  “I’m on my way.”

  Chapter 11

  Bryce

  They say sometimes dads who are expecting a baby don’t feel like parents until their child is born. In my case, I’ll never know if that would’ve held true or if I would’ve immediately felt connected to my baby when she was barely the size of a pea. In spite of the shock, the confusion, the thousands of questions I had about it all, the second I held Peyton in my arms I knew my life would never be the same. I knew I’d never find another love as pure as what I felt for her.

  I was in no position to become a parent—after things ended with Bridgette, I reverted back to the workaholic I’d been before letting her disrupt my life. And I was fine with that. I dated casually, but was in the process of climbing the proverbial ladder at work, and I made that my priority. I lived in a one-bedroom high-rise condo, and loved being centrally-located. My co-workers were my only friends, and even those relationships were mostly superficial. Nothing about my life screamed, “I’m ready to be a dad!”