by Kat T. Masen
I purse my lips, trying to control my urge to remind her of all the things that can go wrong in the air. Number one, we free-fall to our death.
“I may have alluded to something of the sort, but what I meant was get out, live a little. This is…”
“Are you scared? Is that what you’re trying to tell me?”
My eyes lift toward a hang glider soaring a few feet above us, ready to land. Moments later, the man and woman land, feet on the ground, both of them laughing while appearing exhilarated. I’ve done many adventurous things in my lifetime, but of late, life revolves around work. Maybe this is what I need, something crazy to break the monotonous routine of being in front of my laptop.
“Let’s do this,” I tell her.
We follow all the steps we need to, from practical learning to the physical side. After the instructor goes through everything, including our signing waivers, we’re fitted out in the proper gear and shown how to comfortably lay inside the glider.
The crew does all their safety checks while I take one plane and Amelia the other. She yells good luck to me with a thumbs up. I didn’t know whether to say the same or curse her for putting me in such a position.
I release a breath, willing the adrenaline to kick in. The engine of the plane starts at the same time my heart pumps wildly when we begin our ascent down the runway. I bite my lip as every part of my body begins to react with nausea creeping in.
The plane is in the air, the cool breeze a welcoming change. The higher we ascend and the distance from the ground we are, a smile spreads across my face replacing my momentary fear. I don’t recall how long it takes us to reach our destined height, taking the time to admire just how beautiful it is from above. The instructor taps me on the shoulder, warning me we’re going to detach and begin our soar. I give him the thumbs-up, and seconds later, the plane is pulling away, and we are free, soaring like birds.
My entire body feels light as a feather, a state of calm washes over me while taking in the landscape. This new feeling—a steady heartbeat—replaces the adrenaline pumping through my veins only moments ago.
Living in the moment, I realize how my life has become work, how the smallest of pleasures are never a priority. I’ve disconnected myself from actually living and feed myself excuses as to why money and power are my reason for existing.
And now, this on-the-whim dare to do something different has opened my eyes to something more.
Amelia has opened a part of me that has laid dormant.
I don’t recall how long we soared for, but another rush overcomes me when our feet finally touch the ground. My throat is parched, my breathing erratic while I rest my hands on my knees, willing my heart to calm down. Not too far away, Amelia has also landed, and the look on her face sums it up perfectly.
She looks beautiful, grinning from ear to ear with an infectious laugh escaping her lips. The color of her cheeks is crimson, accentuating the green eyes while our gaze meets. I can’t help but smile back as the instructor helps me remove the harness.
When we’re both free, Amelia runs over to me, out of breath and completely exhilarated.
“How do you feel?”
“Amazing,” I admit, taking a breath with a soft laugh following. “I haven’t felt this good since… I can’t even remember.”
“Me, too.” She beams, placing her cap back on. “I forgot what it was like just to act and not think.”
“I take it back. Maybe you’re not so lame.”
She punches my arm softly. “You hungry?”
“Famished.”
“There’s a place not too far from here that’s supposed to be the best burger joint in Jersey.”
“Lead the way, daredevil.”
My eyes pique with curiosity as the waitress serves all the food and places it on the table—burgers, loaded fries, hot dogs, pickles, and two sodas.
“Are you eating for two?” I ask, watching Amelia load her plate.
“Funny joke, one I’m sure you’ll never make in front of my father,” she says with a mouthful of fries. “A food coma is imminent.”
It’s somewhat refreshing to watch a woman relax in my presence, not fuss over some fad diet they’re trying out to lose weight. I learned early on not to ever comment on a women’s weight because even a compliment can be misconstrued as something else. Amelia, though, has an amazing body with curves in all the right places, not that I should be even thinking about that.
She raises her eyes, stopping mid-bite. “Why are you looking at me that way? Do I have mayonnaise on my face?”
I hide my smile behind the burger in my hands. “You’re so paranoid.”
“Well, I don’t really know you anymore. You’re practically a stranger.”
Flattening my lips, I roll my eyes. “Don’t be so dramatic.”
She wipes her hands with the napkin, taking a sip of Coke before resting her elbows on the edge of the table.
“It’s the truth. All I know is that you work at some company that creates apps. You’re single, allegedly, and you like to fool around with your assistants.”
I shake my head, letting out an annoyed huff. “My mother, or your mother, has really skewed reality. Yes, I own a company that creates apps, among many other things. Yes, I’m single. No, I don’t like to fool around with my assistants. I like to fool around with women who I find attractive, despite their chosen career.”
“Oh, well, that’s much better,” she drags, avoiding my eyes. “So, have you ever had a girlfriend?”
“That term is so juvenile,” I tell her.
“So is pulling the onion out of your burger,” she retorts while eyeing me. “And the pickles.”
“They’re disgusting.”
“You’re avoiding my question.”
I release a breath. “I’m not avoiding your question. I was in a relationship, and it didn’t work out. End of story.”
Amelia’s gaze fixates on me, making me uncomfortable as the silence gives her time to think of something else to ask me. Something, I’m sure I’ll have no interest in answering.
“It sounds to me like you’re still in love with her.”
“C’mon, now you’re ridiculous.”
“Am I? Or am I so accurate that you’re terrified I unraveled some hidden secret you’ve been trying to keep because your heart is so broken?”
Narrowing my eyes, I fold my arms across my chest.
“You’re still as invasive as I remember you. I’m not heartbroken. In fact, I ended it. Satisfied?”
“Not really,” she counters, still watching me with a curious stare. “Now it opens up a whole other conversation about your fear of commitment.”
“For God’s sake, you really are still a pain in my ass,” I concur while grimacing. “What about you? You’re a relationship person, and now you’re single.”
“Yes, I am,” she mumbles, avoiding my gaze. “It’s college, right? Perfect time to be single.”
I agree in my head that no one should be tied down in college. The thought of her being single and jumping into different beds opens up another side to me I have to control, or this won’t end well.
“Just focus on studying, stay single.”
“Maybe, we’ll see.”
“What do you mean we’ll see?” I question with annoyance.
“It means that a woman has needs. Read between the lines, buddy.”
The waitress interrupts our conversation, clearing the table and placing the bill down. As Amelia reaches for it, I push her hand away, the same time my skin tingles with what feels like an electric shock. Pulling back, a small breath escapes her pink lips, but she covers it up with a cough.
The interruption times perfectly, this conversation potentially leading to a heated debate. After paying the bill, we exit the restaurant and walk back to the car. After an argument over who should drive back, she reluctantly hands over the keys as we make our way back to the city.
It’s mid-afternoon when we get back to my apartmen
t, and once again, the clouds have formed over the sky with the smell of rain in the air.
“Will you be okay driving home?” I ask, looking upward at the same time a roar of thunder echoes in the distance. “Why don’t you wait until the storm passes?”
“And do what exactly?”
Inside, I’m battling with the need to protect her from the unpredictable weather, which often causes erratic driving on the wet roads or to send her home. My urges jump from zero to one hundred when she does something minor like bite the corner of her lip.
You need to protect her.
That’s all—it’s about her safety.
“Hang?” I blurt out, distracted by my thoughts.
“Hang?” She laughs. “Hmm… I haven’t heard that in a while, but okay.”
And just like that, her teasing of my age only riles me up and reminds me how easily she can goad some sort of reaction from me. Out of nowhere, the rain begins to pelt from above us.
“Let’s go,” I mumble, heading toward the building. “If you come out of here alive, you better count your blessings.
Sixteen
Amelia
The wet fabric clings to my skin uncomfortably.
Inside the apartment, the sound of the storm lashes outside the window, unapologetic with its ferocity and timing.
I remove my hoodie, and underneath my T-shirt is still dry. Will shakes his head, running his fingers through his soaked hair, attempting to dry it off. Unable to turn away, my gaze falls upon his hair, a wild mess, to the small pout on his lips while he tries to control it somewhat.
Placing his hands on the bottom of his sweater, he pulls it up above his torso, his t-shirt beneath caught in the fabric, revealing his perfectly sculpted six-pack. Biting my lip, I’m unaware of how sexy he is beneath until he notices my stare, prompting me to act quickly by diverting my eyes to the floor.
“I’m going to get changed,” he informs me. “You sure you don’t want to get changed, you know, since you have a knack for borrowing from my wardrobe?”
I shake my head, pressing my lips together. “I’m not that wet.”
“Hmm… that’s a shame,” he mumbles with a smirk before walking off to his bedroom.
The second he’s out of sight, I release the breath I’ve been holding in until my phone begins to ring inside the back pocket of my jeans. I pull it out to see Mom’s name flash on the screen.
“Hey, Mom, what’s up?”
“Just checking in on you. I heard about a wild storm hitting the city and knew you were visiting today.”
“Oh yeah, we just…” I clear my throat, wincing at the mention of we and not wanting to raise any questions. “I meant, I just got caught in it but sitting inside a café now till it passes. Everyone on the sidewalk got caught, so we all panicked and just sought shelter where we could.”
“I’m glad you’re safe,” she says, a smile evident in her tone. “So, Thanksgiving. Your father would like us to come to you. I miss the city and was thinking we could spend a few days together if you don’t have any plans?”
“No plans,” I tell her. “It’ll be nice to have you all here. I miss you guys.”
“We miss you, too, honey. And how are you? You know, after the whole Austin thing?”
I hadn’t even thought about it over the last few days, preoccupied with planning this day and Will’s text message to me.
“Uh, I’m fine, Mom.”
“You know, it’s okay not to be fine.”
“I know,” I say, lowering my face. “But I promise you, I’m fine. School has been busy, and I have a lot going on.”
It was only partially a lie, a small one at that. And although I hate lying to her, I consider it a short extension of the truth.
The sound of footsteps draws closer as Will walks down the hallway, dressed in another pair of jeans and a black tee.
“So, listen, I was thinking—”
In a panic, my eyes widen as I point my finger toward my phone, trying to catch his attention. It takes a moment for the penny to drop, his arms folding with annoyance while he mouths for me to hurry up.
“Sorry, Mom, people are loud here in the café. Can I call you later?”
There’s a slight hesitation in her voice. “Of course, honey. We’ll talk later.”
I hit end call fast, letting out an annoyed huff.
“That was my mom.”
“I figured when you said sorry, Mom,” he answers, presumably. “So, why did you lie to her? Why didn’t you just say you were here?”
My smile wavers. Without even realizing it, I’m fidgeting with the ends of my hair, unsure how to answer his question.
“I didn’t want her getting the wrong idea.”
“The wrong idea?” He tilts his head to the side, raising his eyebrows. “Exactly what idea do you think she’d get?”
“I don’t know, okay? We’re not exactly of the same age, and I didn’t want her reading any more into it.”
Will moves closer to me, motioning for me to sit on the sofa as he plonks himself on it.
“Just because we’re together, doing things, doesn’t mean we’re fucking each other.”
The thought alone causes my eyes to widen and cheeks to burn unwillingly. There’s no denying that Will is incredibly sexy, but my thoughts are wild and uncalled for. Plus, I’m sure he looks at me like some annoying kid.
“I guess you’re right.”
“Maybe you should call her back, let her know you’re with me?” he notes with dark amusement.
Only now, I realize that he’s poking fun at the situation. The devious smirk plays on his lips as he grabs the remote. Leaning forward, I punch his arm like I’d done many times before.
“Ow, what’s that for?” He scowls.
“You’re being a jerk.”
“A jerk you want to fuck? Is that why you’re upset?”
With a pinched expression, I sigh heavily. “You think very highly of yourself. Do you know that? Let’s say I do need to fuck. What makes you think that you, out of all people, would even know how to satisfy me?”
Will shakes his head with a hard smile. “Sweetheart, I’d make you fall to your knees. I’m certain that ex of yours wasn’t able to, hence, why you’re no longer together.”
The nerve of him to think that I broke up with Austin because the sex wasn’t any good. The sex was great, fantastic even. Though logically, I had been with only one man, so perhaps the jerk in front of me has somewhat of a point. Is sex supposed to be even better than that?
“I think we need to watch something on TV and pretend this conversation never existed.”
Still staring at the screen with a beguiled expression, we begin to argue over what to watch. Every movie he likes, I despise. Our heated debate of genre, tropes, and actors went on forever until we both agreed to settle on a documentary.
Will lights the fireplace, and between the mesmerizing flicker of the flames to the warm air inside the apartment, my eyelids begin to fall heavy. If I just close my eyes for a moment, it’ll pass, and I’ll be energized to drive back to New Haven.
I grab the blanket beside the sofa and throw it over me. The screen begins to look blurry, constant yawns escaping me. It all just feels so comfortable, almost as if I’m back home.
“Hey,” Will whispers beside me. “Are you still awake?”
I nod, murmuring before I move closer to him and rest my head on his shoulder. The fight to stay awake becomes too much of a battle until my eyes close to the sound of the television still playing.
My eyes slowly open, tired and barely able to move, the muscles of my face completely relaxed. The surroundings begin to sink in, and as my hand moves against the surface it’s resting on, I realize it is the fabric of Will’s sweater, and I’m lying on his chest.
Pulling away quickly, my head spins momentarily, trying to figure out what just happened. You fell asleep on him, that’s all—no need to panic. Nothing happened. Will is fast asleep, at least, until a slight
stir escapes him, causing his eyes to open, only just.
“Did we fall asleep?” he mumbles, letting out a yawn.
“Yes,” I mutter, my yawn escaping. “I was so tired, and I guess you were too.”
“I never nap,” he states.
“Neither do I, really. I think it was the adrenaline rush, then the food coma, and then the boring documentary you put on.”
A soft chuckle escapes his lips. “It was a great nap. We should be nap buddies.”
“Nap buddies?” I follow with a laugh. “Sure, I’ll just drive here every weekend, and we’ll schedule it in. Who needs a law degree, anyway? Napping is way more important.”
“Too much sass coming from you. You’re ruining my Zen.”
I stretch my arms above my head, tilting my head from side to side, trying to alleviate the stiff neck from laying in one position for a long time.
“What’s wrong?” Will asks, shuffling into a sitting position.
“I must have slept too long in one position. Stiff neck.”
“Come here.”
I turn to face him with a raised brow. “Why?”
“Must you ask so many questions?”
“Fine,” I answer, moving toward him as he motions for me to turn around.
Placing his hands on my shoulders, they slowly begin to squeeze shut, massaging the knot, which becomes rather uncomfortable. It feels heavy, and almost instantly, my body relaxes at his touch.
“You give a great massage. Who taught you?”
“My dad.”
I burst out laughing, knowing Uncle Rocky so well.
“Do I want to know how or even why?”
Will continues to knead my shoulders. “When I was of legal age, Dad thought it would be funny to take me to one of those massage places.”
“What do you mean one of those massage places?”
“Do I need to spell it for you?”
I recall a story Aunt Adriana once told me. I don’t remember the entire thing, but the words “rub and tug” stand out.
“I think I’ve got it. Carry on.”
“Well, I was awkward, so to stop anything going further, I started a conversation about techniques. The masseuse, Sandra, was more than happy to give me tips. So, that’s how I learned.”