Breaking Gravity (Fall Back Series #2)

by Autumn Grey

  “Thank you, Professor,” I say, and I’m shocked by how strong and calm my voice sounds.

  “Tell me something.” She tilts her head to the side. “Why do you want to destroy that?”

  I blink, forcing a confused frown on my face. “What?”

  Her gaze sharpens on me. “Do not take me for a fool. I wonder how things will go for you if President Bowman finds out about you and Professor Rowe.”

  Blood drains from my face and I feel like I can’t get enough air, but still I manage to say, “What are you implying, Professor Masters?”

  The confident look on her face wavers as she searches mine for secrets and truths. I’m not sure what she sees there because moments later, the confidence falls back in place. She smiles triumphantly.

  “Is he forcing you to do this?”

  I huff a breath, remembering Nick thought the same thing, too. I bite my cheek to keep myself from blurting out the fact that I invited him to my place. I kissed him. I welcomed his attention. I’m sure she’s waiting for me to slip and say something that will incriminate Nate.

  “I really don’t know what you’re talking about, Professor Masters.” I make a show of checking the clock hanging in front of the practice room. “I really need to go. My tutoring class at Studio 22 starts in half an hour.”

  Anger flashes across her face, her lips curling into a sneer. “What did he promise you? A good grade?”

  I lift my chin, meeting her gaze without flinching. “With all due respect, I don’t appreciate your insinuations, Professor Masters.” My voice is quiet and respectful, but firm. “Professor Rowe is just that. My professor and my boss. That is all.”

  She sucks air through her clenched teeth, her eyes burning in determination and hate. “I’ll get him one way or another.”

  “Professor Masters?” I prompt.

  “That man turned my daughter against me. I lost everything when she left with him.”

  Biting my cheek to stop myself from blurting out that she threw her own daughter out of her house, I glance down at my boots and wait for her to calm down.

  When she stops talking, I lift my head and meet her gaze. “I don’t know what happened between you and Professor Rowe in the past,” I say calmly. “All I know is that he’s an inspiration to the music community and a well-loved professor. Good night, Professor Masters.”

  Then, I march out of the room. Outwardly, I might look like I just kicked some major ass, but inside every part of me quivers with nerves and all the injustice Nate has gone through at the hands of this woman.

  As soon as my feet hit the hallway, I charge for the bathrooms and into one of the stalls. After propping my cello on the door, I flip the toilet seat down and collapse on it.

  Breathe in.

  Out.

  Breathe.

  This is bad. I hate confrontations and do everything to avoid getting involved in one myself.

  I drop my face in my hands and replay the conversation in my head. I’m certain I didn’t say anything that would incriminate us.

  After a few calming breaths, I dig out my phone from my bag, intending to call Nate to explain what happened, but then realize I’m five minutes late for my tutor class.

  Moments later, I dash out of the bathroom door with my cello on my back and drive to Studio 22 like the hellhounds are after me.

  FEBRUARY TWENTY-EIGHTH. I’VE BEEN WAITING for this day with bated breath.

  Not only is the WAV fundraising charity ball something I wholeheartedly support, it’s also a huge chance for me to really show what has lived inside of me from the time I held my first cello in my hands. It’s a chance for me to prove to myself that I can beat the odds. And I just did. We just did.

  Nate flew to Chicago for his doctor’s appointment last evening. I haven’t heard from him since we spoke on the phone at eight this morning. I’m anxious to hear his voice and know that he’s okay, which is why I keep checking my phone every few minutes.

  I glance at Alex, who is proudly grinning down at me, then he folds those lanky arms around me and hugs me tight. He pulls back and takes my hand, twirling me around as he takes in my floor-length gown that hugs my curves. It is black with nude-colored sequined mesh long sleeves. The flow of the dress reminds of me a bird in flight.

  Alex whistles softly. “Damn, that dress.”

  I roll my eyes and smile, eyeing his dark suit, white button-down shirt and black bowtie. “Thank you. You clean up nice too.”

  Alex drops my hand and says, “You and me. We should form a band.”

  I pull back and cock a brow at him “Totally. Elon and Alex. The Cello Whisperers.”

  “Right.” He laughs. “Alex and Elon. I am the man here.”

  I glare at him, pretending to be offended. “Male chauvinist.”

  “Yeah, yeah. You love me,” he says as he drops his hands and begins packing his cello. “Ready for the auction?”

  “Not really. I don’t want some guy donating money to have dinner with me.”

  “Why? You are gorgeous.”

  “Have you met me? Awkward Elon.”

  “Maybe Nick will show up.” My face falls, pain cutting through my chest. “You two haven’t kissed and made up?”

  I wish it was that simple. Alex knows we are not on good terms but not the reason why. I shake my head and focus on packing my cello.

  “He will come around,” he says with enthusiasm.

  I wish I was as sure about that as Alex is. So I say, “Yeah.”

  After calling home several times, I decided to give him space, hoping that time would help ease the pain. But it seemed the more we didn’t speak, the more we fell from each other’s radar. My nose starts to sting, and my eyes burn with tears.

  I can’t lose him. I need to talk with him again.

  The past week, since my confrontation with Professor Masters, has been nerve-wracking. Grueling. How I managed to survive that long with tension coiled inside me without exploding into pieces is still a miracle. That night, after my tutoring classes, I went to my place, grabbed a change of clothes and drove to Nate’s. He was visiting with his sister and wasn’t home. I let myself in, took a shower and put on his T-shirt and boxers. Having his clothes on my body calmed me a bit. It almost felt like he was holding me.

  Then I settled on the couch in front of the TV and accessed the recorded episode of Game of Thrones I missed.

  Ten minutes into the episode, Nate arrived. The second he saw me sitting on the couch, he grinned wide and I melted like always. He kicked his shoes off and climbed on the couch, curling his hard body into mine. Then when he was satisfied, he tucked a thumb under my chin and kissed me slowly. I thought I’d combust from the mere taste of him and the heat of the kiss.

  He pulled back and ran his nose alongside mine. “What is it?”

  “I want to be Khalesi when I grow up,” I announced.

  His brows shot up, his gaze moving from the TV, then back to me. “Yeah?”

  I nodded. “I want dragons. And unicorns.”

  His lips twitched. “Noted. Anything else?”

  I shook my head and patted his chest. “I have my own Khal Drogo right here.”

  He threw his head back and laughed, his entire body shaking against mine. I loved this about him. He never did anything half-assed. It was all or nothing with him.

  “Who pissed you off?” he asked, tucking the loose tendrils of hair on my forehead behind my ear.

  “Professor Masters,” I muttered, meeting his gaze.

  Then I told him what happened. By the time I was done, his body had gone still behind mine, the fury rising off him, a force all its own. Knowing my professor, he would be having words with Masters soon.

  I twist my torso to face him. “Promise me you won’t go Khal Drogo on her.” He blinked, a vein ticking dangerously in his jaw. “Nate?” I pressed.

  Eventually he agreed. During dinner the following evening, he surprised me with a white gold necklace with little dragon and unicorn pendants.
It was one of the sweetest gifts anyone has ever given me.

  Safe to say, working with Professor Masters the past week has been extremely challenging. She didn’t mention Nate again I hated the tension between us, which made for exhausting cello lessons.

  “Freckles!” Alex yells, snapping me out of my thoughts. “Come on. The auction is about to begin.”

  “Coming!” He hooks his arm around my shoulder, turning to wave his other hand at Amber, who is sitting in the audience.

  After putting on a white and pink sash with numbers tagged on it, Alex and I take our seats at the allocated spot on the stage with the other twenty volunteers and wait for the auction to start. Apparently the winning bidder gets to have dinner with one of us. Who’d want to pay money to take me out to dinner? What if I end up sitting up there on the platform with zero bids? I would die of humiliation. As much as the idea of having dinner with a complete stranger, especially for money, irks me, the idea of no one bidding on me makes me break into a sweat.

  Twenty minutes into the auction, Mrs. Delamont, the president of the WAV organization, calls out number twelve. Alex stands and walks confidently to the center of the stage, running his hand through his dark, wavy hair and flashing the audience a wide grin. The hall explodes with bids as women try to top each other, but only one woman wins him. My best friend, Amber.

  Mrs. Delamont calls out the next number into the microphone. I zone out, my thoughts wandering back to Nick and how I can make things better between us. He has never missed any of my performances before.

  I did this to us. It ends tonight, even if it means pitching up a tent and camping outside his dorm until morning. I have to talk to him.

  I’m yanked out of my reverie when the middle-aged woman sitting next to me nudges me with her elbow and points to the stage.

  A couple of men stand up and raise their paddles, placing the first of their bids. I clutch the pendants on the necklace Nate gave me as my stomach coils with trepidation.

  That is, until a familiar, high-pitched voice announces a higher bid, which sends disgruntled murmurs across the hall.

  Izzy?

  I scan the audience and see a very pregnant, very adorable Izzy waving at me.

  My grip around my necklace loosens as my lips spread into a huge grin.

  Izzy wins, of course. I make a mental note to always stay on her good side. She’s one determined woman.

  “I’m so confused right now,” I whisper when I reach her side. She hugs me without warning, then pulls back and hooks her hand around my arm as we leave the hall.

  “My brother sent me.” She looks so pleased with herself. “Well, he asked Bennett, but I guilt-tripped them and complained how I never get to do anything fun. Eventually, they let me do this,” she says unrepentantly and pats my arm. “He’s waiting for you over there.”

  She points to Nate’s car parked under a large tree, several feet away from the main entrance. I squint, but only make out a dark silhouette of someone sitting in the driver’s seat.

  My shock fades and I smile, my gaze fixed on the car. “I thought he wasn’t flying back until Sunday.”

  She snickers. “Knowing Nate, he probably glowered at the doctor until he agreed to finish everything in one day.”

  I laugh. I really like rebellious Izzy.

  “Why are you doing this for us?”

  “You make him happy,” she says, slowing down next to the car and turning to face me. “The past three years have been hell for him. I know he still has a long way to go before he sorts himself out, but you make him smile. I see hope in his eyes again. That’s everything.”

  My fingers wrap around my necklace, and I smile. “He’s a wonderful man. He deserves to be happy.”

  She pulls me into her unexpectedly and whispers in my ear, “Thank you for bringing him back.”

  I blink hard to keep the tears from falling as Izzy takes my cello from me, opens the back door and props it on the floor before scooting awkwardly inside.

  Seconds later, I’m sitting in the passenger seat, staring into the eyes of the man who’s changed me. Changed my life. He pulled me from the shadows and into the light just by opening himself up to me, giving me his pain and taking mine. We might be broken in places, but somehow we heal each other.

  “Hey,” he whispers as he leans into me and presses a kiss on my lips. Then, he brushes his thumb across my cheek to wipe the tears I didn’t know had fallen.

  “Hey,” I greet, sliding my hand against his and lacing his fingers with mine while kissing his knuckles.

  “God, you two are so cute,” Izzy exclaims from the back seat.

  Her words rip me back into reality. I laugh, my face heating up in embarrassment. As soon as my gaze meets Nate’s, everything else around me fades away, like always when we’re together. It is just him and me.

  Without taking his hand from mine, Nate pulls out of the parking spot and drives his sister to Reed’s Lounge where Bennett is waiting for her. Then he parks his car in his building’s underground parking. He laces his fingers with mine as we head toward the elevators.

  “What’s wrong?” Nate asks, pulling me to a stop and ducking his head to meet my gaze. “You’ve been quieter than usual.”

  “Nothing,” I mutter, clutching the strap of my cello around my shoulder. I force a smile through the pain in my chest. I’ve tried to push thoughts of Nick to the back of my mind, but somehow they keep creeping back, taunting me.

  He tugs my chin with his thumb, and my eyes meet his. “I think I know you by now. The way your brows furrow slightly when you’re contemplating something. Your eyes turn more brown when you’re sad. I know you, Elon. Come on. Talk to me.”

  I gape at him, floored by the fact that he noticed all those things in the short time we’ve known each other, something no one has ever mentioned before.

  I huff a breath and shrug. “It’s Nick.” His body tenses, his gaze sharpening, but he doesn’t say anything. “He was supposed to be there tonight. It just stings a little. That’s all, I promise.” I inhale deeply, but the ache in my chest blooms instead of going away. “How did your appointment go?” I ask, changing the subject eagerly. The more I talk about Nick, the worse the guilt and pain become.

  Nate’s watchful gaze roams over my face. Then, he exhales deeply. “Everything went well. The doctor wants to consult with a neurologist before he can confirm the date for the surgery in May.”

  I frown. “Can’t they do it earlier?”

  “He could. But I don’t want to stop teaching in the middle of the semester.” He kisses my forehead, his fingers sliding up to my hair. With quick movements, he pulls the pins holding my bun up, causing my hair to spill around my shoulders and down my back. He grunts, satisfied, then tucks the pins inside his jacket. “Tell me about Nick.”

  I sigh, taking in the determined, yet gentle look on his face. We pick up our steps toward the elevator, and I tell him about the sweet boy who lived next door in Willow Hill.

  My feet halt mid-step suddenly when I feel like we’re being watched. I scan the deserted, dimly-lit space. Nate stops long enough to trail my gaze before looking back at me.

  “What is it?” he asks, his brows pinched in a frown.

  I force a laugh and shake my head quickly. “Nothing. I’m just being paranoid.”

  He nods, tucks me under his left arm and kisses my hair. I don’t miss the way his eyes sweep the parking lot before he steers me forward again.

  “Elon?”

  I freeze at the sound of my name. Nate’s body tenses next to mine.

  That voice.

  Oh God.

  Oh God.

  No.

  No.

  Nate’s arm falls off my shoulder as I whirl around, eyes wide, air sawing in and out of my chest in painful gasps.

  Oh God.

  Rick.

  Bile rises up my throat, and I blink several times to stop the dark spots dancing in front of my vision. My instincts tell me to run, but my feet are f
rozen on the spot as fear settles in my bones.

  “Baby, it’s you.” My skin crawls at his words. His head goes up a notch as his hand lifts the bill of his red cap, then he steps toward me, smiling. “I wasn’t sure before. You look beautiful.”

  Behind me, I hear Nate inhale sharply and mutter, “What the fuck?” But I’m too busy trying not to hyperventilate to turn back and look at him.

  I shut my eyes and try to recall what the school counselor told me during the time I was attending therapy after Rick was arrested on the school grounds.

  Be strong. Don’t give him or the memories the power to rule me. It’s the only way I can defeat him and what he did to me.

  I need to calm the hell down. I’m no longer the girl he left behind. I let this bastard rule me and that gave him the power to destroy me. And now it’s my turn to take that power back.

  “Rick,” I whisper, then curse my shaky voice. “What are you doing here? How did you find me?”

  “I saw you leave the opera hall. I wanted to talk to you.”

  He followed us.

  Shit.

  He must have been following me around. How long has he been keeping track of me?

  Nate steps forward while pushing me behind him. “Son of a bitch. What the hell are you doing here?”

  Rick’s eyes widen as they move to Nate. Something like recognition fills his features. His lips pull back in a sneer, eyes moving from Nate to me.

  He points at Nate, anger lacing his features. “You! What’s going on here?”

  How in God’s name do they know each other? “Nate?”

  “The fucker almost ran me off the road,” Nate bites out without taking his eyes off Rick. “How do you two—” He stops mid-sentence. I know the second he makes the connection. His body vibrates with heat and fury as he stalks forward with his hands clenched into fists.

  Worried about what he’s about to do, I quickly step around him and cup his face, forcing him to look at me.

  “I got this,” I whisper. His jaw twitches, and he gives his head a sharp shake.

  “Get behind me, Elon,” he grits out, attempting to push me behind him.

  “Please stop,” I plead, grabbing his face again. “You’re going to hurt yourself.”