by Kat Bastion
But I got confused by the name that flashed up on the screen: someone who hadn’t called me in over a year. I furrowed my brow, unsure of how she would take the news. “It’s Kiki.”
But she popped up from the couch, expression brightening. “It’s for me.”
“It is?” I stared at the counter to confirm. “Isn’t that my phone?”
“Yep.” She swiped it up. “I forgot to give her my number.”
“Why’s she calling you?” On my phone. Which meant Kiki knew we’d be together.
She clicked the button, then held it to her ear. “Hey, Kiki! Yep. Hold on...”
I stood there, perplexed.
She held the phone out at arm’s length.
“Kiki doesn’t only design condos.” She arched her brows, wearing a duh expression. “She’s also creating our naughty golf shirts.”
Right. “Annnd...I’ve just lost my date to my designer,” I grumbled.
Shay headed toward my bedroom without even a glance back at me. But my lips curved into a slow smile, because she’d settled into using my phone, being in my place, and spending the day with me, my way. And there hadn’t been any outward sign of discomfort.
In fact, it struck me that something deeper had happened.
Not just with a phone, or my place, or the day. Not with the movie. Or any single thing. With everything.
With her...and me.
You’ve found home.
Shay…
“Stay.” Don’t leave again.
Inky blackness surrounded me.
“I’m not going anywhere.” Ben’s voice whispered, then echoed.
“Oh.” An impossible weight crushed my chest. I struggled to pull in the smallest gasp of air. “I guess I have to leave, then.”
With bittersweet pain, I vanished.
Then I began flying...
racing...
soaring...
falling...
plummeting...
“Shay.” Another echo from Ben.
“Shay!”
I startled awake.
Strong hands gripped my shoulders. Ben’s body heat radiated up my side.
Darkness surrounded us.
Gentle lips and the soft roughness of his beard touched my forehead. “You okay?”
I swallowed hard, feeling damp and suddenly chilled. “Where am I? What happened?”
“My bed. You must’ve fallen asleep talking to Kiki. I found you out cold with the phone in your hand.”
“Oh.” Well, that was a first. The passed out...and the phone-hugging.
“But just now, you tensed up and gasped for breath.”
I twisted and slid his phone onto his nightstand, then settled back into his protective arms.
“I dreamt I was flying, soaring high up through big white fluffy clouds. Then I raced over them, zooming from one continent to another, skimming oceans, buzzing mountains...from the empty vastness of sandy deserts to polar icecaps.”
“Nice.” He rubbed my shoulder.
“It was. I felt free, untouchable. Funny thing: For as fast as I flew, my hair only rippled a little, like a gentle breeze, and my whole body stayed warm and comfortable. The air barely whispered over my skin, crisp and cool.
“But then, all of a sudden, I began to lose altitude...but not speed. I still raced through the sky, only I dropped into the clouds. A dense whiteout misted my face. Then I sank lower. The green tops of pine trees brushed under my fingertips. Squares of farmland zipped by.
“And on the horizon loomed giant metal structures with electrical lines strung between them. Then my speed trailed off. My altitude continued to nosedive until the point where it seemed like I could hit the electrical lines.
“I tried to fly higher, it took enormous effort to even gain a few measly feet of height. But I grew exhausted and fell back into the danger zone again.
“The lines hummed with a constant terrifying buzz. They swayed in the wind, sparking and crackling.”
I took a deep breath, exhausted by just reliving the vivid memory. But I’d needed to download the entire thing. And Ben had let me. He’d listened, quiet but attentive.
His hand slid into mine, warm and comforting. “I’ve had that dream too, playing chicken with power lines. Ever try to touch the wires?”
I gulped. “No way. It’s like if I do, I’m gonna die. Ever die in one of your dreams?”
“No, not for real. But I have touched my electrical lines. One day I just hovered over them, dared the damn things to hurt me, then clamped on tight with both hands.”
“What happened?”
“Nothing.” The timbre of his voice lowered.
“Nothing?”
“Not one thing.”
I let out a soft snort. “Sounds anticlimactic.”
We laid there in the dark, holding hands, quiet, breathing, and peaceful for long minutes. Long enough for my racing pulse to calm.
I’d never experienced what had begun to unfold between us—a deep connection with another soul, someone I trusted. Made me want to open up further, keep our growing emotional tie strong and solid.
“What do you think our dreams are about?” I wondered.
“Unable to change altitude? Imminent crash into disaster? Sounds like it’s about control.”
Control. Like not letting anyone have power over me. “Maybe facing our fears too.”
“Don’t play with high-voltage?” His thumb rubbed over mine.
I smiled. “Aren’t you playing with me?”
“Told you I grabbed on tight.”
“Ha!” I gently elbowed his ribs. “With the threat of death. Knew you were a risk-taker.”
He rolled over to face me. Warm breath teased across my lips. “Only with you.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” He kissed me tenderly. “You make me brave. I’m alive when I’m with you.”
I eased away a little, unwilling to stop our soul-baring conversation.
“What challenges you the most?”
“My parents.” His voice turned gruff. “Hands down.”
I let out a slow breath, voice quieting, “And they’re the cause of your stressful dreams?”
Because I’d been suffering through mine for years. And a part of me knew the uplifting dreams turning into terrifying nightmares had been about what I’d run from, taunting me and making me question whether or not I’d actually escaped.
“Part of it’s them and me. Used to be because I thought I couldn’t live up to their expectations.”
“And the other part of it?”
“Is just me. And the fear that I might turn into him.”
His father. “But you won’t.”
“Not if I can help it.”
We both fought similar demons. We’d both come out the other side stronger for it.
“You’re nothing like him.” I had no fact to base my statement on other than gut instinct. But the man who’d welcomed me into his heart, had stolen past my defenses and captured mine, loved those lucky enough to be in his world.
“Touch your electrical lines, Shay.” His voice softened with compassion. Like he understood my suffering without me having to share the details. “You’re braver than you know.”
Because of you. With you, I’m courageous enough to catch a lightning bolt.
I settled my cheek onto my pillow, still facing him in the comforting near-darkness. “I wonder if it will ever end. One day...no more nightmares.”
“Yep.” He lowered his head down too, so our lips almost touched.
“So sure,” I whispered.
“Gotta be. Our fears will end the moment we strip their power away.”
Dreams transforming reality. “You speak as if you know firsthand.”
“Nope. But hoping. And workin’ on it.” He pulled my hand to his lips and kissed my knuckles softly.
I stared at his dark silhouette, grateful for the quiet time between us. No pressure. Bedmates for the moment. Like a slumber party...one
I’d never had.
“Sooo... isn’t it after midnight?”
“Probably.” His voice relaxed further, sounding sleepy.
“My day.”
“True.”
I fought a smile. “So, who won Monday?”
“You tell me.”
“You did.” No doubt. “But Tuesday’s gonna blow Monday away.”
It has to.
Because I needed him to know me.
But more than that, I desperately needed Ben to be the one person I trusted to see the world through my eyes and understand why I lived how I did.
Breaking the law? Only scratches the surface.
“No felonies.” His tone hardened.
“So you said.”
Warm air puffed over my lips, as if he’d snorted. “Yep.”
“Define felony...”
“So you hedged.” A heavier sigh gusted across my chin. “Why does that scare me?”
And there it was. My biggest fear. Power-line scary. That he wouldn’t be able to go the distance with me. That he’d get only get so far into the truth of who I was, and he’d be in over his head, wouldn’t be able to stomach the rest.
“So define it.” Best way around a power-line fear is to close my eyes and grab hold.
“Pretty sure breaking and entering is a felony.”
Great. Already sunk. “Well, I’m at your place now. So that’s done.”
“I’m surprised you have to ask. Wouldn’t the polished criminal like yourself already know?”
“Never planned on getting caught.” I shrugged. “Only time it would ever matter.”
“A theft felony?” He yawned. “I think it’s something like a thousand dollars, maybe fifteen hundred. Probably varies from state to state.”
I twisted, reached for his phone, and clicked on the Internet app.
“What’re you doing?”
“Looking it up.”
He fell quiet while I searched. After a good minute of typing and swiping, I found the info. “In Pennsylvania, a felony with regard to theft is applied to any stolen good or service with a value in excess of two thousand dollars.”
I clicked off his phone, casting us again into relative darkness; a new sliver of moonlight had begun to track through his tall windows.
“Theft all we have to worry about?”
Tomorrow? We’ll start you off slow and easy. “Yep. And nothing to worry about at all. You’ll see. You get to play lookout.”
“Yay me.”
“You promised.”
“I know.” Amusement lightened his tone. “Just teasin’.”
“How do you steal over two grand in services?”
“No idea. Can’t be at a spa, nothing costs that much. Maybe a high-end car detail or repair shop if you liberated your car before you paid for it.”
I yawned wide, trying to think of another. “What if someone stowed away on a cruise ship?”
“There ya go.”
“Well, you have nothing to worry about. We’ll keep things in misdemeanor territory.” Under two grand? No probs. “But it won’t matter anyway.”
“Why is that?”
“Because we won’t get caught.”
His voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper, “Isn’t that what everybody thinks?”
I kissed him, slow and soft. “Most importantly me.”
“Me too, then,” he sleepily murmured.
I dragged a finger down his chest, then pressed my hand over his heart.
His breathing deepened.
“You haven’t tried to have sex with me again.”
A low chuckle vibrated my hand. “Doesn’t mean I haven’t thought about it.”
“Why no moves?”
He inched closer, then pressed a gentle kiss to my lips. “Thought I’d leave that up to you.”
Control. What I’d needed. And he’d instinctively understood. No pressure. Total control. Which made me feel respected, valued—invincible.
“Even if I take my time?” Because I still wanted our relationship to go slow, let us unfold naturally.
“Worth the wait.” His tone firmed.
What he’d sworn before.
“Good.” I slid my hand back into his. “Because I wanna wild things up next time.”
He tucked our clasped hands over his heart as his breathing slowed.
“Looking forward to it,” he murmured, right before we drifted off to sleep.
Ben…
“What am I looking at?”
“Beauty. Chaos.” Shay’s voice had lowered. The beginnings of a smile curved her lips.
We sat on an old wooden bench on an elevated deck at the center of a U-shaped outdoor shopping area. A bright sun beat down from a blue sky. But the eight-foot-deep covered porch protected us from the heat; its peeling white paint, dry-rotted floorboards, and wraparound railing with many rickety posts made clear that storms from the north battered the place.
Yet not one of the bustling shoppers seemed to mind.
Neither did Shay. She stared at the verdant panorama beyond the buildings.
The great Smoky Mountains had just begun to glimmer with her first fires of autumn color.
Slight weight rested onto my thigh: her hand. She gripped her fingers, tightening down on my jeans. “Complacency and opportunity.” She nodded off right.
Got it. Theft. I took a steadying breath. At least you gave me fair warning. The basic details, anyway, over another kitchen-destroying breakfast. Apparently, I owned a waffle maker.
I spotted her indicated target-rich environment. “Outdoor coffeehouse.” Toward the end of the U on the right, java drinkers hung casually around the half dozen bistro tables lined up along the far railing. Most were a party of one.
“Ahhh...not just an outdoor coffeehouse. It’s indoor-outdoor. Can’t save a table outside unless you leave something. Like a jacket, keys, sparkly iPhone...”
“Purse, backpack, laptop.” I lifted my newly purchased binoculars to my eyes to confirm. She’d insisted the lookout have the right equipment. And no way in hell I’d let us commit another B-and-E felony just to borrow Stephan’s pair.
She nodded. “And when they come back after ordering, most settle in for a while. They get comfortable with whoever’s at the table in front of them, the customers behind them. But watch long enough, and you begin to see a pattern. People take in their surroundings at the beginning, but only for a few seconds. Almost never after eye contact is made.”
“Well, sure. Because staring’s rude.”
“It’s the perfect setup. Plus, people don’t only get up for drinks. They’ve claimed their space and don’t want to leave. But they’re drinking. And the majority don’t order those tiny espresso cups. They wanna drink big fancy lattes with designs etched into the foam.”
“A smoothie.” Not that I’d ever tried that fruity sugar bomb.
“Or a large chai tea.” She dropped me a really? look.
“So sooner or later...”
“They’re gonna need to leave the table. While still saving their table. Know where the bathrooms are?”
“I’m guessing not by their table.”
“Nope.” She shook her head. “Not inside the coffeehouse either. Only one set of restrooms service all the shops, including all the tourists traveling down the highway who stop here for a break. No idea what the men’s room looks like, but the ladies’ only has two stalls and one sink.”
“So, if someone has to take a leak, it’s gonna be a while.”
“Usually is.” She leaned back, crossing her arms. “Plenty of time.”
“For something unfortunate to happen.”
“Or opportune.” She uncrossed her arms and scooted forward to the edge of the bench. “Watch Miss Louis Vuitton over there.”
I pressed the binoculars back to my eyes and adjusted the diopter. “How can you see brand names?”
“That’s the beauty of boldfaced vanity. If an observer from a hundred yards away can’t spot the na
rcissistic ego dangling from their arm, it doesn’t deserve to be there. Designers cater to women who want to be noticed.”
“And we’re noticing.”
“Everyone’s noticing. Especially the wrong kinds of people.”
I continued to stare through the binocs. “Nothing’s happening.”
“Waaait for it... It’s coming. A few minutes, tops.”
I watched the redhead as she repeatedly scrolled a finger up the screen of her phone. A giant coffee mug sat almost out of arm’s reach at the far edge of the table. On the opposite side sat the large designer purse; its black leather had a pattern of rainbow-colored symbols I couldn’t make out from here. Thick bright-pink straps arched high from the top of each side, above the middle of the bag which gaped open.
“How do you know it’s only a few minutes away?”
“Time. The amount of it that’s gone by since she began fidgeting. Plus, she downed that drink in less than ten minutes. And with her hundred-and-ten-pound frame, her bladder’s gotta be the size of a pea.”
“Solid a theory as any.”
“Pay close attention.” She patted my thigh, then winked at me as she stood. “It happens fast. In the blink of an eye.”
“Blink.” Bear’s nickname for her. The meaning behind it.
For an instant, her entire body froze. Panic flashed across her face. As if I’d found her out, discovered the fragility behind her impenetrable armor. But then her expression relaxed as she drew in a slow breath. She gave me a near-imperceptible nod.
Our gazes held for a beat, the gravity of our moment sinking in. I’d drifted into her world. She’d allowed it.
And in spite of my serious misgivings, I endeavored to be all-in with her.
Without another word, she spun around and strode away with purpose, shoulders squared, steps quick.
So as not to attract attention to me or her, I swept the binoculars over the panoramic mountains, then slow-scanned the coffeehouse scene. But I kept a quick-moving Shay in my peripheral sight as I eased back slightly from the binocs.
And just like clockwork, by the time Shay rounded the corner that led to the coffeehouse, Miss Louis Vuitton stood from her table.