Until I Fall

by Claudia Burgoa

  Unknown: Aren’t you a little young to talk like there’s no point in life and love?

  Me: That’s not what I said, but the answer is no. I’m not too young.

  Me: You’re assuming, maybe judging.

  Unknown: No, I’m not.

  Unknown: Remember that people like to believe that they know the story behind you. They like to judge what they don’t know, fear, or envy. Let them talk. You know the truth, it’s yours.

  Unknown: See beyond the darkness, there’s light around you. You just need to walk outside of the cave.

  Me: Those are too many sentences for a guy like you. I wish I’d heard you saying them.

  “Aspen?” Heath’s voice pulls me out of the conversation. I had forgotten where I was and who I was with.

  “Yeah?”

  “We have to go. Kelsey called me. Ginger isn’t feeling well. She has an upset stomach.” Looking around the room and the women staring at me, I wonder how much of this story is true. This isn’t the first time Kelsey needs Heath’s “help” while on a date. Instead of being angry, I’m relieved. Next time, I should stay home.

  During our drive, Heath was on the phone with Kelsey. She grumbled about her night. Ginger had been complaining about her stomach since Heath dropped her at Kelsey’s house. I had no idea that Heath had gotten more time with his children. Not that we discuss his family situation. What do we discuss? Our shallow relationship sounds like a major disaster ever since I texted Anderson about it.

  Should I step outside my comfort zone and give Heath a chance? Can we fall in love?

  Heath has everything going for him. He’s handsome with that dark hair and piercing dark blue eyes as contrast. He has a rocking, lean body with sculpted muscles. For a forty-two-year-old, he looks no older than thirty-five. He’s successful, has a sense of humor, is intelligent . . .

  But my heart is in heaven, with Michael. That’s why I can’t fall in love.

  “Rain check?” Heath opens the door of his car, taking my hand as he helps me out of it. My boyfriend is a gentleman. He is a catch.

  See beyond the darkness, Anderson wrote.

  “Sparkling water, crackers,” I advise as we walk to my door.

  “Again, sorry for cutting this short.” Heath kisses me on the cheek.

  I almost open my mouth and ask if he wants me to go with him. I stop; not sure if it’s the fear of rejection or the panic of being closer to Heath and his children. Feelings are messy. When there’s loss, the mayhem they create is like a category five hurricane. It took me years to survive the first one.

  “Please, don’t mention it. I’ve canceled on you so many times.”

  We stop in front of my door. “I’m a lucky guy.” He cups my chin, his dark blue eyes smiling. “You’re beautiful, understanding, and smart—”

  “Sorry, am I interrupting something?” I jolt with the sound of Anderson’s voice, taking a step backward, away from Heath’s touch.

  Anderson carries a brown paper bag. “Mom gave me this for you ladies.” He studies Heath as I take whatever he brought from his hands.

  “Anderson Hawkins.” He extends his hand, Heath shakes his introducing himself too. “Heath Foster, pleased to meet you.”

  “Penny, I’m leaving,” Heath says, his eyes trained on Anderson who stands a few steps away from us, his hands propped on his hips and his eyes fixed on me, making my heart beat faster than normal and my body giddy like a teenager.

  “I’ll call you when Ginger is asleep.” Heath brushes my lips with his.

  “Yes, let me know how she’s doing.” I smile at him, disconnecting my gaze from Anderson’s and waving at Heath.

  Anderson and I stand side by side, watching Heath walk to his black sedan and drive away.

  “Even Cinderella stayed longer at the ball than you. What happened?” Anderson asks as the tail lights disappear.

  “His daughter wasn’t feeling well.” I open the paper bag, pulling out a jar filled with light blue, lilac, and pink M&Ms.

  “I lied.” He licks his upper lip, making my mouth water then switches his gaze from the jar to my lips twice, then meeting mine. “They’re only for you.”

  The tone makes my knees buckle, my jaw slack and I want him to . . .

  I raise the jar, he nods. “From your mom?” He shakes his head. “How? I mean, thank you, but it’s late.”

  He lifts an arm slightly angling his head, giving me an ‘I have my ways’ look.

  “Using your heroic skills to obtain chocolate, impressive.” I twist the jar open, taking a few pink ones and popping them into my mouth.

  “We’ve talked about your storytelling abilities, they’re far-fetched.” Anderson laughs, shaking his head. “I went to buy a few things for Mom. There’s a candy store filled with this stuff. I thought of you.”

  My heart stops. I work hard to sip some air, trying to hide my shock. Calm down, you’re overreacting. Act calm; laugh it off. It doesn’t mean a thing. “And here I thought you had broken into the shop for me.”

  A smile plays on his face. “Really?” He narrows his gaze, observing me. Did he notice my astonishment? Can he see what his voice and his actions are doing to me?

  “Yeah.” I touch my temple. “The whole Mission Impossible scene where Tom barely hangs from a rope and he almost triggers the alarm with a drop of sweat.”

  He laughs reaching for the jar. I playfully push him with the lid. “Stay away from my candy.” . . . and from me.

  “Sharing is caring.”

  “I don’t share chocolate.” I wink at him taking a few light blue ones and placing them in the palm of his hand. Our skin touches, producing a current of electricity. Cut this short, go back to your room. “Sorry for the intense text.”

  He cocks his head to the side, shifting his eyes from the jar to me. “Do you wanna go out for a ride?” His mellow voice is a warm sensation enveloping every cell of my body. He eats the chocolates I give him, waiting for an answer. “Drove the bike tonight.”

  I look down at my outfit and the lovely heels I wore.

  “Did I mention that you look beautiful tonight?” He takes the jar away from me but not his gaze. “Did you dance?”

  “He was too busy chatting around.” The gala wasn’t fun, and I would have preferred to be at home hanging out with my friends and Sophia.

  “Do you hear that?” He touches his ear, setting the stuff he carries on the porch couch. “May I have this dance?”

  Anderson doesn’t wait for me to respond. He takes my left hand, brushing my knuckles with his mouth. His other arm goes around my back and he pulls me to his chest. “Relax and let me lead, just follow the music.”

  I don’t hear music but I relax, resting my head on his chest. We sway slowly to our own rhythm, our own tune; some beat I can’t hear, but it’s catchy and soothing. Driving sounded great—dancing enveloped by his strong arms and surrounded by the whiff of his woodsy aroma is a thousand times better. Tonight, I don’t feel lonely or incomplete.

  ASPEN

  RUBBING MY EYES, I saunter toward the entrance. Hugo is waiting for me, barking to whoever has disrupted our sleep.

  “Who the fuck is ringing the bell at six in the morning?” Scarlett complains. “If I wanted to be up before eight, I’d be at the ranch.”

  “How do you survive that life?” I frown, she’s not a morning person.

  “Coffee and no human contact for the first five hours.” She sighs.

  I swing the door open to find our next-door neighbor. Anderson is wearing a pair of basketball shorts and a tight muscle shirt. Hmm, I could get used to seeing this in the morning.

  “Wanna go for a run?” His question shakes me out of my irrational thoughts.

  Tilting my head to the side and pursing my lips, I stare at him. Running is a foreign concept to me. I’m up for Zumba, some kickboxing or cycling. If I’m desperate, I’ll go with Brynn to her yoga classes. Walking Hugo is acceptable, but running doesn’t appeal to me. Where am I going? Who’s chasi
ng me? I don’t understand the point. Unless I’m running for my life, it’s not happening

  “Mm, nice tats,” Scarlett utters with that raspy voice that makes men fall for her whenever she’s trying to get laid. Turning my head slightly, I notice she’s wearing close to nothing. Panties and a see-through tank top. I hit her with a ‘keep your panties on’ glare. We have rules; we don’t hit on each other’s friends. No, we have a rule for her. She can’t sleep with our guy friends. Mrs. “One Night Stand” leaves them broken and wanting more and we end up losing friends. “I wouldn’t go for a run, but I can take you back to my room.”

  Surprisingly, Anderson’s eyes widen with panic. He shoots me a “please, help me,” stare. Hmm, he’s not going to take her suggestion, offer a rain check, or flirt with her. Hugo, who sits by my side, gives me an idea.

  “He means Hugo, Scarlett, not us.”

  “Oh well, the invitation is open. I’ll be in my room.” She winks at him and goes back to the guest room.

  “I meant you,” Anderson whispers, brushing a strand of loose hair behind my ear.

  “No, thank you. I’m not a runner.” I yawn again.

  “Not a runner?” He gawks. “Running is the easiest way to exercise. Come on, join me.”

  “What’s my motivation?”

  “You need motivation?” I nod once, angling my face as I wait for him to come up with something. “There are many benefits to running.”

  I hold up a hand, stopping him right there. “There are different ways to achieve the same benefits. Do you know that sex is the same as running?”

  A slow smile spreads across his face. “So you want us to have sex?”

  “What?” I crinkle up my face, confused why would he . . . oops . . .”No, I didn’t mean let’s have sex. I just threw out some knowledge—a way to explain that running isn’t the easiest way to exercise. I wouldn’t offer to have sex ‘just because’, I have a boyfriend.”

  “Yes, you two are the picture of the perfect couple. How’s the sex?”

  “How’s the sex?” I squint, chewing the inside of my lip. How did we end up having this conversation?

  “Interesting.” He bobs his head, holding his arms behind his back, assessing me. “Poor sex.”

  “Why are we analyzing my sex life? How’s your sex life?”

  “My sex life?” He licks his full bottom lip before that stupid smirk appears. Staring at me, he scratches the stubble under his chin. “It’s healthy, Doc. I could demonstrate if you’re worried about my well-being.”

  “Friends don’t have sex,” I say, my tone comes out defensive; or maybe I’m trying to convince us both that sex is off the table. Yes, there will never be sex between us. He’s my friend.

  “So, we are friends.”

  “I like to think so.” I bow my head slightly.

  His eyes lock on me, the lightness disappearing. My heart’s pulsing up my throat as my cheeks heat up. Alarms sound inside my head. “I don’t want to interrupt you anymore,” I blurt.

  Pointing toward the kitchen, as if something is waiting for me I start walking backward. “I need three more hours of sleep before heading to the free clinic.” Then, I pretend to look at the clock on the opposite wall. “My shift starts at noon. I won’t be home until tomorrow morning, if I’m lucky.”

  He frowns. “Okay, that’s a crazy schedule. Why would you work so much?”

  Because keeping busy is the best way to survive, it distracts me from him. It’s time to call a new therapist. This man is shifting my emotions, and that’s not good for my system.

  Looking at his watch, he nods four times. “You owe me dinner and a movie. When am I cashing that in?”

  “Soon?” Never. “We can check my schedule tomorrow night.”

  “Actually, I leave town tomorrow night.” He exhales, tossing his head up and looking at the sky.

  “In three weeks when I’m back,” he declares, then shakes his head. I relax. Maybe he’ll be gone for good. How do I feel about it?

  Don’t feel!

  “Mom and I are going to see another doctor.” He gives me a funny look, narrowing his gaze. “Do you have time to accompany us?”

  “Where?”

  “San Jose, California,” he explains. “One of the best oncologists in the world has a clinic there. There’s an experimental treatment that might help Mom.”

  I open my mouth to say no but I remember when Dad was sick. Like with Anderson, it was only the two of us. My parent’s marriage was falling apart. Austin, my brother, and I learned that they’d been having problems for years. My father and my brother had their differences. Meaning Austin stayed away from Dad. I was the one who looked for second opinions, alternative medicine, different procedures and traveled along with Dad to various states to find a doctor who might give us some hope. It was cathartic for me. If it hadn’t been for Brooklyn and Scarlett supporting me during those days, I don’t know if I could’ve survived. “Text me the name of the doctor and the dates.”

  “Thank you.” He smiles, then turns to Hugo. “Do you think he’d like to go for a run?”

  I take a step toward the coat rack and unhook his leash. “Hugo, would you like to go for a run?”

  He nods, barking twice. I adjust his leash and hand him to Anderson. He leans closer, kissing my cheek. “Go back to bed.” His warm, deep voice echoes through my chest, making my heart beat fast. “Rest, friend.”

  I open my mouth to say something, but he leaves before I can think of anything smart to voice.

  Me: I requested vacation time.

  Anderson: I take that as a yes. You’re going to San Jose with us.

  Me: No, I decided to go to Hawaii.

  Anderson: Can it wait? I’ll take you once Mom gets better.

  For a second, I imagine myself walking by the beach next to him. No wait, he’s leaving for a couple of weeks. What’s going to happen to his mom? She’s doing well. She’s keeping up with her daily activities. But what if she needs him?

  Me: Who will stay with Sophia while you’re working?

  “Hello, stranger,” Brynn places her tray next to mine, taking a seat.

  “Heard that you had to drain a penis.” She laughs. Ugh, I wish we had our own dedicated emergency pediatric unit so I wouldn’t have to deal with shit like this. “Was it a hard procedure?”

  I push my food tray away. “Thank you for reminding me. Nothing says ‘enjoy your dinner’ better than ‘how thick was that dick’?”

  She crinkles her nose.

  “Yeah, you’re not the first one cracking puns about it.”

  “A, you get the craziest cases.” She continues laughing, handing me her apple pie and taking away my ice cream sandwich. “They are out of ice cream sandwiches, I know you don’t mind.”

  “Can we discuss something else?” I shrug, grabbing my fork while moving the salad away from me and pulling the dessert closer. “The weather’s a better topic than today’s case.”

  “Scarlett texted me, she wants to fuck the next-door neighbor.”

  I arch a brow. “Mr. Wang?”

  “No, Anderson.”

  “Of course, she does,” I grunt, checking my phone. “We have rules. He’s a friend. She isn’t allowed to fuck our friends.”

  Anderson: She’s doing well, but I’m hoping her beautiful neighbors will keep an eye on her?

  Me: Yes, we can do that. Where are you going?

  Anderson: I can’t tell you.

  Me: A tattoo emergency, I assume.

  Anderson: Yes.

  Ugh, can he say more than a few words?

  Brynn glances at my phone and snickers, “yet, another one who wants to do the next-door neighbor.”

  I glare at her, moving my phone out of her sight.

  “Do? What are we, in junior high?” I roll my eyes, stuffing my phone back inside my pocket. “No, I don’t want to have sex with Anderson. He’s a friend. I’d rather not lose him. Hence, Scarlett should keep her claws away.”

  Me: I wish
you’d tell me what you do for a living.

  Brynn bites on her sandwich, staring at me, chewing it slowly. After swallowing, she refutes, “I’m here for you. Whenever you’re ready to talk.”

  “About?”

  “It’s okay to be attracted to a man who isn’t Michael.”

  “I know. I’m attracted to Heath,” I remind her as I pull my buzzing cellphone out of my pocket.

  Anderson: You know what they say, curiosity killed the cat.

  Me: That’s so cliché!

  “Anderson is hot. And from what Sophia says, he’s a good man.” Brynn continues eating her dinner while she speaks. “Yesterday night he humored his mother while we had a romcom marathon.”

  “You mean you want to do him?”

  “Now look who’s the one behaving like a junior high student.” She chuckles, peeling her teeth. We laugh. Nothing like having your bestie around. “I won’t continue this conversation. He’s cool. I think he’s an excellent addition to your life, and I hope you realize it when it’s time.”

  “I have a boyfriend.”

  “Tell me about that penis again. Was the guy strikingly hot?”

  I shiver shaking my head, springing up from my seat. “Leave me alone, Brooklyn. My break is over. What time are you off?”

  “Nine, and you?”

  “Eleven.”

  “I’ll wait around for you.” She smiles. “Anything to prevent you from staying until tomorrow morning.”

  ANDERSON

  IT’S A CLEAR night, the crisp breeze cooling the unseasonably hot spring day. Today should be our last day in this forsaken place. Only a few more minutes. We wait and observe. I lean against a pillar by the entrance of a cantina that reeks of alcohol, tobacco, and pot. My cowboy hat covers my dark hair, my head is tilted low to conceal my face. The streets are virtually empty, barring an occasional car passing by. Patrons come and go, but all is peaceful. It should be at least for another twenty minutes or so before we have to jet off, with or without the information we need.

  “Fifteen minutes,” Everhart warns through my earpiece.

  “Don’t sweat it.” I tilt my chin to the left, murmuring close to my mic. My heart speeds up but I control it fast. Shit, I’m off five minutes. Moving my gaze to the cantina, I check on Tiago. He’s two tables away from the emergency exit, two men sit around the table with Tiago. His right foot taps twice, then he touches his hat. Yes, he’s kicking ass and should be done soon. “This should be over in ten.”