Up in the Air

by Rebecca Sharp

  “Ok, I’ll leave you to your night,” he murmured when I didn’t respond. My eyes jumped up and my hand reached out and grabbed his, stopping him in his tracks.

  “No. Wait. I… I can’t let you apologize.” I started to shake my head but stopped remembering that that was a no-no. “You didn’t do anything wrong; it was my fault.” I choked, my chest tightening as those same suffocating memories began to reappear. “What did you bring?” I looked over to the bag of food that smelled amazing. I wasn’t trying to abruptly change the topic but my brain was running from the past.

  He blinked and then realized what I meant. “Chinese. From Master Wong’s. Ally said it was your favorite.” His head ducked as he cleared his throat.

  “You asked Ally?” I don’t know why that surprised me; he always managed to do the most thoughtful thing possible.

  “I used Zack’s phone to call her yesterday. I… I wanted to come to apologize then but she said you were sleeping already. So, I told her I would stop by tonight.” His eyes dropped to our hands that were still intertwined, neither of us moving to break the contact. “I wanted to bring you some food and she said this was your favorite. I figured by today you would be contemplating doing something stupid like not abiding by the doctor’s instructions so this is my attempt to bribe you into staying put.”

  I frowned at him even though he was completely right about how I was feeling.

  “Well, thank you,” I murmured. “Ally made me soup. I don’t know what she thinks is wrong with me…” We both laughed and my hand squeezed his a little tighter.

  Wyatt cleared his throat. “I should go.”

  I ignored his statement because I couldn’t bring myself to say just how much I needed him to stay. “Do you want some of the… what did you get?” I turned, finally pulling my hand from his to open the bag and beginning to pull out the cartons.

  Pork lo mein. Sesame chicken. Egg rolls. Fried rice. Sweet and sour chicken. Pepper steak.

  “I see what’s going on here.” Wyatt raised an eyebrow at me. “You’re trying to feed me into a food coma so that I can’t move for the next two days.”

  “Whatever it takes.” He laughed.

  My stomach growled. Looking at Ally’s soup, I would have sworn that I was not hungry. But with the Chinese food sitting there… it was a whole different story.

  Wyatt stood up and my eyes followed him intently, fearing that he was leaving. But he was just going to grab some forks from the kitchen. He handed me one, my whole body aware of the second that our fingers brushed.

  I picked up the carton of sesame chicken, digging in to one of my favorite dishes. “Chinese is my favorite – after lodge food.” I smirked at him, taking another big bite.

  “Well, I thought about bringing you some fancy food from Breakers, but I figured you might enjoy this more.” He teased back.

  “Just a little.” I smiled and reached for the lo mein. “Were you out today?” And then as if to justify my question, I said, “I watched it snow last night.”

  “I wasn’t.” He didn’t elaborate, instead his eyes narrowed on me. “Did you not sleep?”

  I shrugged my shoulders. My head had been throbbing last night, but I refused to take the pain medication that the doctor had prescribed; plus, I kept replaying what I’d said to him so I’d hardly slept.

  “Not really.”

  “How are you feeling?” His voice was hoarse with concern.

  “Alright. Much better today.” I went back to the sesame chicken – it was the best thing on the menu. “I was thinking about going back out tomorrow…” I admitted with a sheepish grin, causing him to glare at me until he realized that I was joking.

  I watched him open up the fried rice. He had to be uncomfortable sitting on the floor, but I didn’t say anything. There was a silent acknowledgment between us that he was staying for the moment, even though I knew he would continue to insist that he should leave.

  “Everything is just very sore,” I continued, trying to break the silence. “Between the head and neck and then my hip was already hurting from last week… I’m falling apart.” It was a white lie; my injuries didn’t bother me that much.

  I was falling apart for him.

  “What did the doctor say?” He asked.

  “Didn’t you ask Ally?” I found it hard to believe that he’d waited a day and a half to find out.

  “I want to hear it from you.” Again, my heart skipped a beat.

  “Nothing major. At most a minor concussion. I’ll be back out on the slopes with you in no time, Olsen, don’t worry.”

  “I wasn’t,” he replied. “At least not for the reasons you think.” Desire immediately rolled through me. I didn’t know if he was referring to our retreat into the glades, but that’s all I could think about.

  “I can’t believe I fell,” I said quietly, bringing us back to that afternoon. “I mean, I can believe it. That wasn’t the right thing to say. I guess I can’t believe I tried it.” My admission was a necessary blow to my pride if for no other reason than to make sure I didn’t try it again.

  “You were riding the high. And I’m sure I was annoying as shit telling you that your double still wasn’t right.”

  “You were telling me the truth.” I set the carton of chicken down, feeling completely, disgustingly full. “It was my problem that I didn’t want to listen. I seem to have this problem not infrequently.” I began to hint towards the reason for my reaction that was bubbling underneath the surface, begging to be told. “Sometimes, I get an idea in my head that I know I need to and can accomplish even when it’s not the truth or it’s not the best thing to do.” And Wyatt didn’t – and couldn’t – know the full extent of everything that I was saying.

  “Goals… determination… it’s nothing to be ashamed of, Channing.” He handed me my glass of water and I took a sip.

  “I know. But there’s a limit to when those things are a good idea.”

  “You’ll be able to do it.” His emotionally-charged gaze locked with mine. “I know I said you weren’t ready, but I didn’t mean forever, Channing. You are an incredible rider. There’s no doubt in my mind that you’ll be able to nail this in the next few weeks. I want you to know that I have complete faith in you.”

  And that was the difference between him and Chance: Chance had never admitted to his faith in me that night, maybe assuming I knew that it was there – which I’m sure it was – but I’d needed to hear it.

  “Chance said the same thing,” I said quietly, staring down at my hands as they played with the strings of my sweatpants. I felt Wyatt pause while collecting the empty cartons of food to look up at me. “When he was teaching me the triple. He was practicing it over and over again because it was what he was going to do – what he did – in his Slopestyle pass; it was what won him the Gold."

  I watched as Wyatt's large hand covered mine, stilling the anxious fidgeting of my fingers. "What happened, sweetheart?"

  I wondered if he could feel the rise in my pulse from just his slightest touch.

  I didn't care that he was touching me; I didn't care that he called me sweetheart. And I didn't care about the stupid competition right now.

  I couldn't look at him, afraid that the tears would really begin to fall then, but I continued softly. "The day before the Open started, I landed it; it was only Chance who was there, who saw. But I landed it." I laughed a little to myself. "I was so freaking excited – I remember tackling him in the snow, laughing and crying at the same time. And he was excited too. He'd been nailing it all week, so practicing it hadn't been that much of an achievement for him, but to help me land it... He was so excited."

  I pulled one of my hands out from underneath his, using the sleeve of my sweatshirt pulled up over my hand to wipe the tears from my cheeks. Remembering that night was emotional, but remembering my brother was even more so. Especially now, after Wyatt, after falling, after everything... I wished he were here so badly.

  "That night, I told him I was goin
g to do it in my heat the following day; I wanted to take gold the same way he was going to. He looked at me just like you did earlier and he said the same exact thing." My voice cracked with sorrow. "He told me that I wasn’t ready.”

  "Shit." I heard him say underneath his breath and then, before I could raise my arm again, his hand was on my cheek wiping away one tear after another with his thumb.

  Before I really lost it, I blurted out the rest of the story. "I freaked out. He'd been so happy for me and then to tell me that I shouldn't do it... We'd fought before, but not like this. He thought I was being reckless. I thought he was being unsupportive; I even accused him of being jealous that I would steal his thunder – to be the first woman to land a triple." The laugh that tumbled from my lips was pained. "We didn't speak the rest of the night. Or the following morning. Obviously, I chose to do what I wanted and I bombed the landing." I inhaled shakily. "I probably didn't have the skill to land it again at that point, just like I didn't today. But that's not why I fucked it up. I remember getting up to the lip of the jump, like I was watching myself riding in slow-motion, and all I could think was that he wasn't there – he wasn't watching – because he didn't believe in me. And it broke me."

  I'd never told anyone the story, letting them assume whatever they wanted about the incident; on the outside, it wasn't a big deal in the long run; on the inside, it had shattered something inside of me.

  Hearing myself recount that night, that day, broke me and I couldn't stop the sobs from spilling. I'd held them all in since my fall; I didn't cry at the doctor's, I didn't cry when Emmett brought me home, I didn't cry when I vaguely told Ally what happened, and I didn't even cry at all today wondering how I was going to apologize to this gorgeous, kind, and caring man.

  "Fuck, sweetheart." I couldn't really see through my tears, but I knew that his face was in front of me even before his forehead rested on mine. "I'm so fucking sorry."

  "No," I gulped, "not your fault... just can't take feeling like someone I care about doesn't believe in me."

  I heard him swear again as his lips crushed mine.

  Maybe it was the bump on my head. Maybe it was the fact that I was mandated by the doctor not to focus on the parts of my life that had, well, dominated it forever. And without those clouding my mind, the only other part of my life seemed to be him. I didn't want it to dominate me... I wanted to drown in it – in him.

  Moaning, I leaned into the kiss. His hands angled my face, leading me deeper into the depths from which I knew I wouldn't return. He tasted like a drug – a rich, addicting spice that spread through every cell in my body. Nothing hurt anymore – not from the fall, not from the memories; there was nothing but him. Even though the kiss was for comfort, it wasn't soft or gentle – and I didn't want it to be. Our tongues fought each other, each spar building the burning pressure between my thighs. And I needed more. I needed to be consumed.

  "I'm sorry," he groaned as he tore his lips from mine. I gulped in air, reaching up to grab his hands and keep them on my face. "I'm sorry, Channing. I shouldn't have done that. I promised you... Fuck." He didn't pull his hands away by his head turned to the side slightly and I knew that I was losing him. "I don't... I just can't let you think that I don't believe in you, gorgeous." A pained laugh escaped him. His thumb brushed over my lower lip that was swollen from our kiss. "I just can't do it. You know what I think of you? Most days, I think I believe in you more than I believe in myself. Hell, lately I feel like I only believe in myself because of you." His eyes returned to mine, fire searing straight to my core as his words shot right to my heart. "You are so fucking fearless, so determined – you are so unlike anyone I've ever met. You know exactly what you want and you will do whatever it takes to make it happen. You work two jobs and still manage to be one of the best female boarders I've ever seen. And you make sure to find time to help your friends, your sister… and me."

  Was I breathing? I couldn't even tell anymore.

  "And it doesn't faze you because it's like you know exactly what is going to happen; you know it because you know you're going to make it happen." Finally, his gaze captured mine, overflowing with admiration, desire, and something more. "I don't just believe in you... I am in awe of you."

  My heart was beating out of my chest as my mouth parted, my response coming from a place deep down inside of me that had been fighting for a voice ever since I'd met him. "I don't know what's going to happen, Wyatt," I whispered. "Right now, I have no fucking clue." My fingers tightened their grip on his hands, making sure he wasn’t going to let go. "I don't know what's going to happen when I tell you that I want you to stay, that I want you to forget about your stupid promise and stay with me tonight. But I don’t care."

  I saw his jaw clench and I knew he was battling with himself over what he should do, probably wondering just how hard I'd hit my head after all.

  "All I know is that when you are here, everything feels right, and when you aren't, there's a hole inside of me that hurts. Please," I whispered. "I don't know what's going to happen tomorrow; all I know is that I don't want to hurt tonight."

  Even though he was still kneeling on the floor, he closed the slight distance that separated our faces, and I felt the warm caress of his breath against my lips and into my mouth as he rasped, "I would do anything to take your hurt away, gorgeous." His lips brushed mine. "You never have to ask me for that."

  And then his mouth covered mine, only this time it was no longer with the drug-like craze, but with the tenderness that told me his only goal was to make me forget every ounce of pain tonight.

  Chapter 14

  Channing

  He kissed me like I was the mountain and he was determined to explore every slope, every corner, every glade to its fullest. For minutes he did nothing but kiss me, steadily building the ache down in my core to frustrating heights. At some point, with his hands still cupping my face, he moved my head to lean it gently on the side-arm of the couch; his mouth staying locked with mine.

  "So damn sweet, Channing," he groaned into my mouth before claiming it again.

  My hands had moved to thread into his hair. Knowing that I was the one to mess it up made me even hotter.

  "I want more," I said against him, sucking his tongue into my mouth. I moved one of my hands onto his chest, running it down over the hard planes of his stomach, reaching for the front of his pants. I shuddered, feeling his hard length jump underneath my touch and hearing how he exhaled an expletive at the sensation.

  But, his hand took my wrist and moved it back up to his chest. "Tonight... just let me make you feel whole."

  I bit into my lip in anticipation and then his hands were on my waist, underneath my sweatshirt and tee. Goosebumps spread from where his fingers claimed my bare skin. With his eyes locked on mine, he pulled both pieces up over my stomach... my chest... and then, I bent forward so they could come off of my body completely.

  His jaw muscle was practically vibrating as he looked down at me, my small breasts covered in a comfy, albeit lace bralette, my nipples hardening underneath his gaze. I watched him watching my chest rise and fall, the burning desire in his eyes making my core melt even more.

  They didn’t look like much, honestly, but in his eyes, it looked like they were everything.

  His hand started on my stomach. I couldn’t move – I couldn’t breathe – I needed his touch. Hearing my thoughts, it slid up and covered my right breast. I gasped and Wyatt’s head dropped onto my stomach with a groan.

  “I’ve dreamt of this since the glades,” he said against my stomach kissing and sucking on the skin. He groaned as his fingers found my nipple, my body arching into his touch as he tweaked the sensitive skin. I moaned his name, feeling wetness seep between my thighs. “So damn perfect.”

  His eyes met mine even though it was a fight to keep my lids open, my body overwhelmed with and needing the pleasure that I’d tasted earlier in the week and was now finally getting more of. His right hand slid up to my other breast and I
watched as the possessiveness with which he kneaded me exponentially increased his desire. His hands engulfed my small, pert tits but instead of feeling embarrassed, his response to that fact made me feel inexplicably powerful.

  His left hand continued to toy with my nipple while his right reached for the edge of the lace, pausing for a split second to give me the opportunity to stop him. Instead, my wanton self moaned, “Please.”

  It only took the slightest tug of his fingers to bare my breast to him, my nipple pink and begging, jutting up from milky-white skin.

  He didn’t pause this time; I don’t think he could stop himself as his mouth slid up my stomach and captured the aching peak in his mouth. My hands returned to his hair, holding him tight against me as his mouth and hands teased the parts of me that seemed to have a direct line straight to my sex; my thighs pressed against each other as the ache became too much to bear.

  “Wyatt,” I moaned again, not knowing how to say what I wanted. Yet, he heard what I needed.

  He tugged on my nipple with his teeth and I felt the first hint of my impending climax. My stomach quivered as his hand moved over it, his fingers breaching the waistband of my sweats. I inhaled sharply as I felt the first brush of him against my folds.

  “You’re drenched,” he groaned painfully, biting my nipple again before he came for my mouth.

  My hips had a mind of their own as I felt one finger enter me. “So fucking wet, Channing…” Then two fingers, stretching me. I tongue dove into his mouth, trying to pull more from him as I felt the waves of pleasure rolling and begging to crash over me. “I’ll take your hurt away.” He shuddered against me and then pushed a third finger inside of my sex. I gasped. I was small and he was stretching me to the point where I was about to come from the pressure. “You’re like an ocean, gorgeous,” he rasped, “and I’m so fucking thirsty.”