Break My Fall (No Limits)

by Cameron, J. T.

  I sat down on the bed next to him. “So, this is what you’d call a bad trip?”

  He laughed a little. “You could say that.” He rolled over onto his side, placing a hand on my calf, then sliding it up to my knee, my thigh, then back down again, slowly, softly. He watched his hand caressing my leg. He didn’t look up at me when he said, “But we’re here, together, alone, and we can still make the best of it.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Despite the scare with the pit boss, I was sad to be leaving Las Vegas. The place had been exciting from the start, but now it held a whole new appeal for me. I’d had my first taste of winning in a casino and I must confess to liking it more than I’d expected to.

  Not that I was on my way to any kind of gambling addiction. Quite the opposite. I don’t have an addictive personality. It was just that playing was fun, winning was even more fun, and because it was happening in Vegas, it was just the kind of escape I’d been looking for when I left Florida a couple of months ago.

  Of course there was Drew, whose presence made Las Vegas even more of a fantasyland than it already was. If there was one thing I ran the risk of becoming addicted to, it was him.

  . . . . .

  We were back in Charleston the next afternoon. Drew wanted to go check on Cliff, and I desperately wanted a nap, so he dropped me off at my place and said he was going to check on his grandparents on the way out.

  I hadn’t been able to get any sleep on the flight home. There were two babies who weren’t very happy to be flying and weren’t the least bit hesitant about expressing their displeasure. There was also quite a bit of turbulence, during which I noticed Drew didn’t even flinch. He was truly not worried at all about flying.

  I hadn’t gotten much sleep the night before—maybe a little over an hour or so—and I had no one but myself to blame for that. I could have blamed Drew, too, but after the night we had together he had earned a free pass.

  When I woke up from the nap, I was groggy and disoriented. I went to the refrigerator and drank directly from the bottle of orange juice to quench a bad case of cottonmouth.

  I looked at my phone and saw that I’d missed a call and a text from Liz. It reminded me that I needed to talk to her about the apartment lease. Going back to Florida was the last thing I wanted to think about, but it had to be done and the longer I put it off, the more pressure I would feel, so I got it over with.

  When she answered, she asked if I had access to a fax machine.

  “They still make those?”

  “Uh, I guess,” she said.

  “I’m kidding, Liz. But, yeah, we have one at the surf shop.” I gave her the number, told her I’d sign it tomorrow and fax it back to the leasing office.

  “You sound really down,” she said.

  “I just woke up from a nap, that’s all.”

  “Hmm. I don’t know if you’re aware of this, but I have an app on my phone that tells me when the person I’m talking to is lying.”

  “Shut up.”

  She laughed. “Wouldn’t that be great, though? Someone needs to invent that app. Anyway, you do sound like you’re not happy. Talk. Reveal yourself, woman.”

  She already knew about Drew—most of it anyway, minus the Vegas stuff. So I spent the next several minutes filling her in on what had happened since the night she had set me straight about overreacting to Drew. The first thing I told her was that we’d had sex.

  “Finally.”

  “What do you mean, finally?” I asked, my tone heavy with fake outrage.

  “Oh, come on, I could practically feel the sexual tension coming through the phone whenever you’ve talked about him.”

  I smiled, thinking of the two times Drew and I had broken that tension and how, after being with Kevin for so long, I’d really had no idea what I was missing until I was with Drew.

  “We’re not just about that,” I said.

  “It’s somewhat about that.”

  “Okay.” I said. “But only a little.”

  “Fine, a little. And, hey, he sounds like a great guy and size isn’t everything. Some guys can do a lot with a little.”

  “Very funny. Can you just let me finish?”

  “Sorry, go ahead.”

  “Thank you. And for the record, he’s not lacking in that department.” I told her about the trips to Las Vegas, how much fun I was having with him, and how surprised I was to find myself feeling this attached to a guy this soon, when getting involved with someone was the last thing I was looking for.

  “You love him.”

  “No.”

  “That wasn’t a question,” she said. “You haven’t known him for very long, but who cares? You have feelings for him. Just admit it.”

  “I admit to having some feelings. But love is kind of a strong word. Honestly, this is kind of like a fling. The thing is, I don’t want this to be over. And it’s about to be.”

  She was quiet for a moment, then said, “Talk to him about coming to Tampa. He can live on a boat here.”

  “I told you about his grandparents. He’s not going to leave them, and I wouldn’t even think about asking him to.”

  “Yeah,” she said. “You’re right. Damn, I don’t know what to tell you.”

  She updated me on what she’d been up to since the last time we talked. “Travis has been acting weird.”

  “Oh, no.”

  “No,” she said. “Not in a bad way. I just…I don’t know…I have a feeling he’s going to ask me to marry him.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah. We’ve been together for four years. And they’ve been a good four years. I mean, it’s not like we haven’t had our problems, but they’ve never been major, you know? And, yeah, sometimes he pisses me off and I want to smack his face, but there’s no way I would be violent, so I just withhold sex until he sees things my way.”

  I laughed. “I’m familiar with your tactics.”

  “Anyway, you know how I told you last summer we started talking about getting married after graduation?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Well, I’m just thinking, if we’re going to do that, then he’s going to have to ask me soon, right? And then last week he was at my parents’ house, which was kind of odd.”

  “Doesn’t he go fishing with your dad?”

  “Yeah, on the weekends. But this was Wednesday night. I got off work and was going to stop by to drop off these shoes my mom asked me to pick up for her and when I got there, his car was in the driveway. And he had told me he was going out with Bryce and Mark. So I go in and they’re sitting around in the den, and as soon as I get there, he and my dad go outside, saying they were fixing something on the boat. I don’t know, maybe I’m reading too much into it.”

  “You think he was talking to them about proposing?”

  “I really do. Even my mom was acting like something was up. When I left that night, she started to tear up.”

  “Oh, God. Your mom gave it away. You’re about to get a ring.”

  We talked about it for a few more minutes, and I could hear the happiness in Liz’s voice. I was happy for her, too, and I hated the fact that all of this made me think Kevin and I had talked about this, too, and probably would have been in this exact position had he not cheated and then degraded me.

  The more I thought about it, the more I started to realize something for the first time: Maybe it was a good thing that it happened when it did, because obviously Kevin was a liar and a ruthlessly vindictive person, and what would the rest of my life have been like if I had married someone like that?

  “What else is going on there?” I said, not wanting to ask directly.

  Liz knew exactly what I was getting at and she told me some friends of ours, Lora and Marissa, saw Kevin at the beach. Apparently, he had tried to talk to them, but they blew him off, and he attempted to plead his case, swearing he hadn’t posted the pictures, that his phone must have been hacked—all the excuses you’d expect.

  “He finally left them alone when
the guys they were meeting showed up.”

  Lora and Marissa were identical twins. They never dressed alike, but one would rarely do anything without the other. This led to some comical double-dating stories.

  “Get this,” Liz said. “These guys are identical twins, too.”

  “Oh, I can’t wait to see this.”

  It was the first time I’d had any positive feelings about returning to Tampa. Despite the trepidation, there was a huge part of me that missed Liz, missed all my friends, missed my life.

  . . . . .

  “Holy shit!” Rebecca’s voice was muffled as she yelled because she was carrying a huge stack of towels that probably should have taken two trips from the back room.

  We were in the surf shop, just before opening the doors for the day. Chad and Warren hadn’t showed up yet, and I was telling Rebecca about the most recent trip to Vegas, but leaving out the details about the card counting and the pit boss. She was reacting to the fact that I’d gone with him again.

  She put the large stack of towels down on a display table. It started to sway, and she caught it just in time. She was fascinated by the story, her eyes wide, mouth gaping, and the phrase “Holy shit!” coming from her at least four times as I talked.

  She started putting the towels on the shelves. “So, what are you going to do when it’s time to go back to Florida? Are you guys going to see each other somehow?”

  “I don’t know.” I paused, sighing, then said, “I don’t like to think about it.”

  “Have you heard anything about your ex? Maybe you’ll get lucky and you won’t have to see him that much.”

  I knew there would come a time to share my story with someone around here other than Drew, and I’d always thought it would be Rebecca. I wanted to tell her what happened to me because we were becoming true friends. Now was as good a time as any. “There’s something I want to tell you.”

  She stopped what she was doing. “What?”

  I cleared my throat even though I didn’t need to, an obvious attempt at stalling for a couple of seconds before I said it. “It wasn’t just a breakup. Kevin did something to me and it’s the real reason why I left Florida.”

  “Oh, shit.” She took a step toward me. “What did he do?”

  I spent the next few minutes telling her about it and when I finished, she said, “I’m so sorry. I had no idea how bad it was for you.” She threw her arms around me and hugged me tightly.

  “It’s okay.”

  She laughed, a sound I hadn’t expected to hear. Then she let go and looked at me. “Damn, girl, they should make a reality TV show about us and all our drama.”

  Her crazy idea was enough to coax a little smile out of me.

  Rick and Marla arrived, breaking up the bonding moment, and as I saw them coming through the door I asked Rebecca to keep that story between the two of us.

  “Hey,” she said, “our secrets are safe with each other.” She gave me the first genuine smile I’d seen on her face in at least a week.

  “Morning,” Marla said as she entered, holding four coffees in a cup holder.

  Rick trailed behind her with a brown bag, which he put on the counter and opened. “Fresh scones. Blueberry and raspberry. Dig in.”

  After a few minutes of shop talk, Marla asked if I knew when my last day would be.

  My stomach turned when she said it, and I felt like the whole day would be ruined. “I’m leaving on the twentieth, so I’m thinking probably the eighteenth.”

  “That’s only two weeks away,” Rick said.

  I nodded and couldn’t help the frown that followed.

  “We’re really going to miss you,” Marla said.

  Rick’s mouth was full of scone, so he nodded in agreement.

  I put my cup down. “I can’t thank you guys enough for letting me work here. I’m going to miss you, too.” I stepped toward Marla and hugged her, then felt another pair of arms wrap around us.

  “Group hug,” Rebecca said. “Get over here, Rick.”

  We all laughed, and it was enough to keep me from crying.

  Marla said, “It’s not like you’ve been here forever—just three months—but it’s going to be hard to replace you.”

  I wondered if Drew felt the same way.

  . . . . .

  It was just before five p.m., almost time to get off work. I hadn’t heard from Drew all day, and as soon as I started to wonder if I would see him that night, he walked into the shop. He wore just a bathing suit, sunglasses, and his Chicago Cubs baseball cap.

  When I looked up and saw him, I said, “No shirt, no shoes, no service.”

  He stopped, and looked around. “At the beach? In a surf shop? That’s bullshit.” He turned around and put his hand on the door, pushed it open a little, then turned around. He had a smile on his face. “This is the part where you’re supposed to say, ‘No! Don’t go!’”

  “I just wanted to see how far you were going to take that.”

  He opened the door wider and started to step out on the sidewalk.

  “No! Don’t go!” I said, moving toward him.

  He turned around and I grabbed him, throwing my arms around his neck and feeling his hands on my sides.

  “Wow,” he said, “you’re almost as happy to see me as Cliff was when I got back.” He lowered his voice. “Maybe later, I’ll give you a bone.”

  “I heard that.” Rebecca stepped out from behind a rack of surfboards. “Yeah, I was hiding there. I couldn’t help it. You two are so cute.”

  “Oh, Jesus,” Drew said. He looked at me. “Sorry she heard that.”

  Rebecca waved it off. “Please. It’s the best line I’ve heard in a while. Kyle just says, ‘You horny?’ and expects me to swoon over that.”

  “So,” Drew said, loud and kind of dramatically, “nice weather, huh?”

  I laughed and looked at Rebecca.

  She shook her head. “You’re right. Time for a change of subject. I have to count the drawer, anyway.”

  I looked out the window and saw Drew’s truck, with the surfboard in the bed.

  “You here to buy a rack for that board?”

  He looked out at the truck, then back at me. “I’m not putting a surfboard rack on that. I wouldn’t want to scratch it up.”

  “Right,” I said, laughing. “Because it’s in otherwise perfect condition.”

  “Actually, I figured you could give me a lesson today.”

  “Oh, really…”

  He leaned down and kissed me. “Yeah. I taught you how to play blackjack, so you kind of owe me one.”

  “You didn’t teach me how to play it like you play.”

  He shook his head. “You don’t want to get mixed up in that.”

  Before I could respond, he pressed his lips to mine again.

  Chapter Seventeen

  An hour later, Drew and I were on the beach, our surfboards sticking up out of the sand.

  He sat with his knees pulled up, arms wrapped around them. “That’s harder than it looks.”

  I was sitting diagonally to him, almost reclining, legs stretched out, ankles crossed. I tilted my head and gave him a sideways glance. “I told you.”

  “Hey,” he said, “I never thought it would be easy. Why do you think I never tried it?”

  He’d actually done quite well. Certainly better than he thought he had, judging by what he was saying now that the lesson was over. I’d be lying if I didn’t say it was funny watching him at first. This strong, athletic guy trying to get up on the board and busting his ass several times before he managed to do it. And even then, he was so proud of himself that he yelled, “Look!” like a little kid would to a parent. That’s when he forgot to do the next critical step that I had hammered into his head…and he busted his ass again.

  He eventually did ride a wave, if just a little bit. He did better than most people do on their first outing, and I told him so. What I didn’t tell him is that I hadn’t taught him the easy way to do it. I thought it would be best if h
e learned the hard way first. Plus, that meant it required more muscle use on his part, and if there was one thing I could never see too much of, it was his physique in full action. In my defense, he wanted to learn and I obliged him. I never promised to make it easy.

  We rinsed off at the public shower. At one point, when I had my back to him, he ran his fingers through my hair as the water sluiced through it. I wondered what it would be like to take a real shower with him, which reminded me about how he hadn’t looked at my body when we had sex. I wanted to know why, and almost asked, but there were other people around so it would have to wait.

  . . . . .

  We went over to Sullivan’s Island for dinner, at a place where you could go in sandy and drenched, with or without shoes, and not be frowned at. Drew said they had the best shrimp and grits appetizer he’d ever had.

  “I’ve never had it,” I’d said, as we crossed the inlet. “Not a big grit fan.”

  “We’ll get two orders of it and if you try it and don’t like it, then I’ll have an excuse to be a glutton and stuff myself.”

  But I ended up liking it, so Drew didn’t get his wish.

  We ordered steamed crabs, and when the waitress brought them out, Drew insisted that we wear the plastic bibs with the cartoon crab on them. “Let’s look like tourists,” he said with a grin.

  “Isn’t that what we are? Neither of us is from here. We’re both just visiting.”

  He cracked open a crab leg. “Speaking of that, when’s your last day here?”

  Suddenly, my appetite disappeared. Leaving Charleston was the last thing I wanted to think about when I was with him.

  I told him, then put a piece of crab in my mouth, not taking my eyes off of him, wanting to gauge his reaction. This was where the conversation was going to happen. He was going to say something about how that day was rapidly approaching, and he would read the trepidation in my eyes, and then one of us—hopefully not me—would suggest some kind of master plan to make it all work out so we could be together.