Life on the Level: On the Verge - Book Three

by Zoraida Cordova

  “River—”

  “Hutch?” I feel his pause, his need to say something that could change everything.

  “I’ve never seen anyone as beautiful as you are right now.”

  “Well, I am in the dark.”

  “Now. Hours ago. Always. Every part of you makes me want to be a better man.”

  “You’re already the best man.”

  He presses his forehead to mine. I feel the familiar pull toward him. He wastes no time kissing my cold skin, warming me up with long strokes of his tongue. He says my name, over and over, fingering me in the dark. When he pulls his finger out, I feel empty. The feel of his dick between my legs is torture. He hesitates at my opening.

  “It’s okay,” I whisper.

  That’s all it takes. The head of his cock slides into me and I whimper. Feeling him like this is delicious. He shifts my weight against his pelvis, and that pushes him in deeper.

  This time, I don’t have to stay as quiet. I moan in his ear, pushing myself tightly against his chest.

  “Don’t let go of me,” I whisper.

  “Never,” he says, thrusting harder into me. He holds my weight with his hands around my ass. My skin is on fire. I can feel it spread from the pit of my stomach to the tips of my ears. If we keep going this way we’re going to set the woods aflame, but I really don’t care. Nothing feels as right and as perfect as when he’s filling the parts of me I thought were empty. I shudder against him, squeezing my legs around him so he can really feel it.

  His heart thunders though his chest, right against mine. He chuckles deeply against my skin. “That’s another first for me.”

  He kisses me, hard and sweet.

  “Me too.”

  “We should head back.”

  “But I’m not finished.” I wrap a fist around his dick, unsurprised that he’s ready to go again. I get down on my knees and wrap my mouth around his wet head. I can taste myself on him.

  Then there’s a snap. I freeze and jump away from him.

  “Wait here,” Hutch says, stalking off in the direction of the noise.

  No, no, no, no. I get back into my damp clothes and hide behind a tree. It’s so dark, there’s no way someone could have actually seen us properly. I hear faint noises coming from the lake, but nothing that would suggest we’ve been caught.

  The seconds without Hutch feel like hours. When he comes back, I see the shadowy shake of his head. He whispers, “I didn’t see anyone. It could’ve been an animal.”

  “Do you really think so?”

  “Yeah.” With the night cloaking his face, I can’t see his features, so I don’t know if he’s telling the truth or not.

  “You go back to camp. I’ll be there in a bit.” But I don’t go back to camp. Instead I go back to the skinny dippers to show my face. They’re wading out of the water, shivering from head to toe.

  “Where’d you go, River?” Jermania asks. “You missed me knocking Randy on his lily-white ass.”

  “I like to think of my ass as porcelain white,” Randy says. He walks without shame, gathering his clothes and racing back to camp. The sound of his chattering teeth leads the way.

  “Can’t a girl pee in peace?” I ask.

  “You could’ve just gone in the water,” Randy shouts.

  “Remind me never to get in a pool with you.”

  • • •

  Back at camp, Julie, Pete, and Hutch have a roaring fire going. I try my best to avoid looking in Hutch’s direction. As much fun as sneaking around is, I’m scared we were seen.

  Julie’s prodding the fire with a long stick. Pete looks at Randy and makes a face. The skinny dippers giggle and share a good laugh at Randy’s expense. I decide he’s not so bad after all, even if we would never be friends outside of this place. I turn in before everyone else, and after the lights have all gone out, Hutch climbs into my sleeping bag. He wraps those big, muscular arms around me, and suddenly I feel like I’ve been thrown into the water and he’s my lifeline back. His touch is so tender, so soft, and I can’t remember being without it. That alone is a scary thought. It’s the safest I’ve ever felt. Maybe coming here was the best decision I’ve made in a long, long time.

  • • •

  I sleep better when Hutch is holding me, which presents a problem for the rest of my stay at the facility. Being out in the woods for five days has been an exercise in first times. It’s my first time fishing, and I manage to catch five trout. I pull my weight carrying firewood, and when we go back out kayaking, it’s smooth sailing. Simmons claps me on the back for being such a good sport, despite being the biggest city slicker who ever slicked.

  No one is more surprised than I am that I love this life. I look forward to waking up in a tangle of limbs with Hutch, the soreness in my arms that comes with hard work, and the delicious ache that lingers when Hutch makes love to me.

  Make love.

  I’ve never called it that before. Mostly because it sounds lame, and a little ridiculous. As I watch Hutch walk back and forth in the camp, getting ready to head back to HCRC, I feel my heart flutter and I want to shout at him, “I love you!”

  Instead, I keep it to myself, filing it away where our kind of romance must be kept—in secret.

  Chapter 29

  The day after we return from camping, I decide to take Ransom up on his offer to join his kickboxing class. It’s tough, because the guys in it are so much bigger than I am, but I’ve got loads of bottled up anger and resentment to throw into a punch. I alternate between picturing my mother, Kiernan, past managers who tried to feel me up, teachers who called me stupid, and, of course, Taylor. Even though Ransom insists that violence isn’t the way to fix problems, grunting and shouting at a big leather sack is pretty therapeutic in its violence.

  “No violence toward others,” Ransom reminds me.

  I know the difference between a person and punching bag. I do. I wonder how many times I’ll have to punch inanimate objects before all my anger is gone.

  “Anger doesn’t fully go away,” Ransom says. “We live with our emotions. It’s the way we channel those emotions that makes us the people we are.”

  “I think that’s the speech Uncle Ben gave Peter Parker.”

  He chuckles, and the nerdy boy holding the punching bag for me looks at me with puppy dog eyes. Ransom shakes his head and laughs even harder.

  “If anger doesn’t fully go away, then why do people always tell you to ‘let go’ and all that hippie mumbo jumbo? What’s the point?”

  “Because,” Ransom says, correcting my stance before I do a high kick, “you’re letting go of specific situations. For instance, I had a lot of anger at my wife for cheating on me with one of the guys on my team. After my accident, I was angrier. It was a downward spiral, and instead of taking responsibility for the things that pushed her away, the things that led me to the darkest time of my life, I blamed it on her. It wasn’t ‘til a few years ago that I took any of the blame myself. I was angry. It was like I was stuck in a room and water was filling it up, and I kept floating to the top to try to get some air.”

  I wipe sweat from my forehead. The other guys gather around and remove their gloves, focusing their attention on Ransom.

  “How did you stop it?” Nick, my puppy-eyed nerdy boy, asks.

  Ransom presses his lips together. I wonder if he even knows. He looks a little unsure. “Well, when the drugs and drinking almost killed me, I decided I didn’t want to die. I didn’t want to be controlled by my hatred. It was like punching a hole through the wall, and the water—the anger—started flooding away. I could breathe again. I wanted to breathe. I wanted to live. But, like all things, you have to work on making sure that anger doesn’t come back. You have to sweat it out in a way that doesn’t harm someone else in the process.”

  Ransom looks at me when he says that. Instead of saying something sarcastic, I simply nod. I recognize that suffocating feeling he was talking about. On some level, I’ve carried it with me my whole life.

>   • • •

  After my muscles turn to jelly and I’ve given myself half an hour in the sauna, I hide in the library. I pick up The Mists of Avalon and try to get lost in a magical world. The library here is a small room, but the bookshelves go from floor to ceiling. There’s the girl walking around sniffing the book pages. When she sees me, she looks embarrassed, and takes her book outside.

  The door opens again, and Taylor comes in. He surveys the room, and when he realizes it’s otherwise empty, comes over on the couch and sits next to me.

  “What?” I ask.

  “Heard you almost drowned,” he says. “You sure are accident-prone.”

  “If you call a faulty life vest accident-prone, then sure.”

  He chuckles. “I think we got off on the wrong foot. I wanted to extend my services to you. I’m sure it’s been lonely here for you. If you ever need a friend.”

  “Pass,” is all I say.

  “Why don’t you like me River? I never did anything to you.”

  “You want the truth?”

  “Hit me.” He slouches, like those guys on the subway who manspread.

  I wish I could hit him, but Ransom’s anger-speech is fresh in my mind. I set my book down and look him dead in the face. “I don’t like being threatened. I don’t like when people spook my horse. I don’t like the way you leer at the girls here, and frankly, I don’t like that you take advantage of the people you’re supposed to be caring for.”

  Something dark crosses his face. “I’m not caring for anyone. I get paid to mop the floors and shovel some hay. I’m not some fancy head doctor or counselor that gets bank for listening to how sad your life has been. As for the other stuff, you’ve got a wild imagination, girly. Horses are like women; anything scares them.”

  I feel a flash of rage fill my chest. I clench my fists, like I’m ready to defend myself, but I know Taylor would never hit me. Not here, at least. He wouldn’t risk losing his barn operation over me. He’s all talk, like most guys I’ve come across. He just gets off on scaring people, and because I’m not going to back down, it just makes him all the angrier.

  I level my gaze at him. You can’t scare me.

  “I find your attempts at intimidation hilarious. You don’t want to fuck with me.”

  “That’s my line,” Taylor says. “Well, you got me figured out. I guess I’ll leave you to it.”

  He starts to head out the door. Pine-Sol fumes and smoke cling to his clothes. When he turns around, he smiles widely. There’s a knowing glint in his eye, like a predator who’s cornered his prey. Like he knows there’s nowhere for me to run.

  “I’m glad you had a great camping trip, River. I’m sure Hutch enjoyed himself, too.”

  I throw the book across the room after he leaves. Taylor knows. Either he knows, or he’s trying to trick me into revealing something. I shelve the book and pass by Hutch’s office. He isn’t there. He’s not in the media room, the cafeteria, or the backyard. I’m ready to break into a sweat when Hutch passes me in the hallway by my room. He’s got a great big smile and a little bounce in his step.

  “Been looking for you,” he says. “Want to ride?”

  “You or a horse?” I ask. I just can’t help it.

  His grin is sly, and turns my brain into fluff as I follow him out into the stables. Jillian is saddling some horses, and has a couple of new people ready to ride. Group activities are great alibis, but a big part of me just wants to have Hutch all to myself, away from all of this. I want to be back in the woods.

  Hutch demonstrates how to saddle the horse. Apollo nudges my arm, and I pet his face.

  “Nervous?” Hutch asks.

  “I wasn’t ‘til just now. I really don’t want to fall again.” I put on my gloves and secure the helmet strap under my chin. I’d much rather wear a cowboy hat like him, but that’s out of the question. “I have to talk to you.”

  Worry scrunches his features. He nods. “When we rest in the field. I’ll stay close by.”

  We ride as a group across the deep, golden grass. It’s amazing how suddenly the seasons change when you’re not looking. It’s a little bit like my feelings for Hutch. As I dig my heels into Apollo’s flanks, I feel this uncontrollable feeling surge in my heart, swelling like the mountains before me. I lean forward into the hard, cold wind, but I don’t slow down now that I’ve got a good pace going.

  After a solid half hour, we stop in a beautiful field, where the grass is tall and there’s a trickle of water nearby. The new kids don’t want to dismount, so Jillian tells us we can wait here while they ride a little further. I don’t miss the wink she gives me.

  Out here it feels like we’re the only two people on earth. Hutch helps me down from the horse. I wrap my arms around his neck, and lose myself in the magnetic attraction I have for him. He hasn’t shaved since the trip, and I love the way his beard tickles my face. We’re rolling around on the grass. I land on top, straddling him like my horse.

  I rest my hands on his chest to feel his heartbeat. It gets faster the more I rub my hands across his chest. I look over my shoulder, my hair going all over the place.

  “Hutch.”

  “River.”

  “We have to talk.”

  “You’re not breaking up with me, are you?” He sits up on his elbows. He’s a miraculous sight, in his corduroy jacket with its wool lining. He takes a bit of straw and munches on it like a cigar.

  “No, dummy. You’d have to be my boyfriend in order for me to break up with you.”

  “Ouch.” His eyebrows rise high on his forehead. “I think I feel like your boyfriend.”

  “We don’t go out on dates. We just hook up.”

  “I knew you were tough, Riv. But damn.”

  “I’m stating facts.” Stop stating facts, River. Stop ruining the moment.

  He doesn’t seem to like that. I regret saying that because I can see it makes him sad.

  “Yeah,” he says.

  “I’m sorry. I can’t help being a dick sometimes. I’m not— I’m not good at this part of things. I’m only good at the sex part.”

  “You’re good at all the parts, River.” He squeezes my waist. “Every single part. You’re just afraid to let yourself go.”

  I’d roll my eyes. Here’s another counselor telling me to “let go” like I’m some Disney fucking princess. Still, I ignore that because his words, his other words, make me so hot. I wonder how long we have before the others comes back.

  No, focus. I tell him about what Taylor said to me. He’s pulling me up in seconds, grabbing Elphaba’s reins.

  “I’m going to kill that—”

  “Easy, counselor.” I grab his arm, but it’s like trying to move a tree. “Don’t you get it? He knows. Someone saw us, and I’m willing to bet it was Julie. I told you, it’s not just a harmless crush. That girl is seriously crazy about you. Do you know she cornered me and all but told me she rigged her own life vest to get her mouth on you?”

  He looks at me like I just kneed him in the gut. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

  “Because! You’re too important. I want to protect you. You have more to lose than I do. Everyone expects me to mess up, but you—”

  “Don’t make decisions like that for me.” He turns around, facing the mountains. He takes his hat off, runs his fingers through his curls, then sets it back on his head. When he turns toward me, the sight of him makes my heart squeeze. “I’m going to talk to him. Man to man.”

  “That’s the stupidest thing you’ve ever said.”

  “He can’t talk to you like that.”

  “What are you going to say? Don’t threaten my girlfriend? You’d be fired in a second. I think—I think I can get him to mess up. We can’t go to Helen without proof. Otherwise your career is over. Why are you smiling?”

  He closes the distance between us. It is so hard to be objective when he looks at me like that. He takes his hat off and sets it atop my head. It’s too big, but he tilts it back so he can see my face. He
bends down to kiss me. My lips give way to his too easily, too eagerly. There’s no stopping the pitter-patter of my heart. When he pulls away, I can hear the thunderous sound of hooves approaching. He steps back, a victorious smirk on his face.

  “Because, you just called yourself my girlfriend.”

  Chapter 30

  I make Hutch promise to leave the Taylor thing alone. To trust in my plan.

  After my session with Ransom, I find Hutch in the game room. Sometimes he tries to teach me to play chess, but I don’t like it, so we change to Candyland, which is more my speed. I tell him about Sky and Leti and how amazing they are. He tells me about the pranks he helped his brother pull back in high school. He tells me about visiting his brother in prison, and how they don’t talk much anymore. I tell him Sky and I used to pretend to be fraternal twins just to fuck with people, and in the fifth grade got away with it for three whole days.

  I want Hutch to get me a deck of cards, but he doesn’t think it would be a good idea. I still miss shuffling them. Sometimes I get nostalgic. We retreat into my room. I lie on his lap while he reads the local paper. In the halls we keep the most distance. We dance around touching each other—a hand grazes here; our feet touch there. Being away from him is like water torture. He doesn’t see me for three whole nights and I feel wrecked. I remember times sitting with Sky being all heartbroken because a guy hadn’t called her, and I’d tell her, “Get over it. There are plenty of boys in the sea, each one slicker than the last.” Now I feel like the same lovesick puppy I used to make fun of.

  When he mentions the girlfriend thing, I tell him he’s crazy and to forget it. I’ve never been anyone’s girlfriend, really, and I can’t start now. I’m my own worst enemy. I’m my own Benedict Arnold. I’m fucking Lando Calrissian. I’m Roose Bolton, stabbing my future in the gut. Hutch drops the subject, but does little to hide his disappointment.

  As part of our stay-away-from-each-other plan, I sit at every lunch table where he isn’t. During breakfast, there isn’t enough decaf in the planet to keep me awake while Randy tells me about each girl in a long list of conquests and how we should give it another shot.