by Piper Rayne
Samantha hooks her arm through mine. “I’m so happy we did this. I’ve been debating it for years. Tell me what I need to do to use a parachute.”
Tim glances back, obviously overhearing our conversation, but he doesn’t say anything.
“I’m not sure, but you need to learn how to use an actual parachute first,” I say.
One thing I’ve figured out with Samantha is that she’s all about the adrenaline rush, but safety isn’t a huge concern for her. Tank and I know how to use a parachute. We have to make sure we land where we’re marked when we’re smoke jumping. Otherwise we’d find ourselves landing in the middle of a forest fire.
Tank glances at me. “You wanna speed ride?”
I nod, and again Tim glances over but says nothing. He obviously has an opinion on the subject. I intended to find out from him how I can get a helicopter to take us so we can fly down. It’s not unheard of. I know other smoke jumpers who did it last season.
“I’m in.” Tank raises his hand, and I high five him. “And I’ll give you some lessons if you want, Sam.”
Sam?
“You would? That’d be awesome.”
“First thing you need to do is jump out of a plane with me strapped to your back.”
Her eyes light up. I think I’m off the hook if she did have any inkling to try to win me over after our conversation at the bar. “Thanks.”
“I’ll line it up when we get home,” he says.
The helicopter lands and Tim ushers us forward, all of us carrying our skis and loading them in. Once we’re seated and ready to take off again, Tank and Samantha are suddenly very coupley and I’m left with Tim. Good times.
We end up skiing down the mountain again, and the weather couldn’t have been better.
At the end of the day, we take off our gear in the office where we met Tim at the beginning of the day, and he approaches me.
“I heard you talking about speed riding,” he says. Now more than ever, I get that fatherly vibe from Tim. He’s dressed in a long-sleeve T-shirt with his company logo and a pair of jeans with boots.
“Yeah.”
“How experienced are you? I saw that you could ski, but that’s only a small part of it. I saw you almost lose your ski out from under you on the second run, but you recovered quickly. Thought on the fly. So you have the calmness for it, too.” He crosses his arms. The expression on his face doesn’t look like he’s giving me compliments.
“I’m a smoke jumper. I can parachute.” The idea of strapping a parachute to my back and skis on my feet and heading down the mountain makes my heart race. I grab my snow pants and wrap them in a ball, folding them into my bag.
“Okay. But it’s dangerous and I can tell you right now”—he glances over his shoulder—“Samantha isn’t skilled enough for it. You and Corey, yeah.” He uses Corey instead of Tank, which throws me for a second. “But if you’re serious, you have to go up with someone who’s going to take you somewhere safe.”
“Sure, do you know a place?”
“Here. It’s not something I offer, but I see it in you and your friend’s eyes, you’re going to do it no matter how dangerous I tell you it is. So we’ll use my ‘copters and set a date.”
“Seriously?” I look at Tank and Samantha flirting by the vending machines. “How much does it cost?”
He studies me for a second, his arms still crossed how I imagine my father would’ve looked in my teenage years when I did something stupid. “Nothing.”
“What?” I laugh. “You have to charge us.”
He shakes his head. “No. It’ll be free, but you come here first. Okay? And Samantha is not ready. If you want to come back and helicopter ski again before that and I’ll see how she does, that’s fine. But no novices are welcome.”
Well shit, that conversation with her is going to suck.
“Why are you doing this?” I ask, unable to understand why someone who doesn’t know me at all would be willing to help me get my rocks off by jumping off a cliff. He clearly doesn’t look like he’s excited by the prospect.
“Let’s just say I’m making my own amends for something.” He claps me on my shoulder and walks away.
I follow him with my gaze as he goes into an office and shuts the door.
“Let’s get home. I’m starved,” Tank says.
He and Samantha walk past me and he smacks her ass on the way out, but I’m still trying to figure out the puzzle of Tim helping us. I think the dad vibe is messing with my head.
We no sooner get back to the cabin than the moans, banging headboard, and screams from Samantha’s room start. I guess that adrenaline really does do it for her and Tank.
I stare outside at Stella sitting in a chair as Lou builds a fire. If I had her to come home to, the adrenaline would be an aphrodisiac for me too.
Nineteen
Stella
While Lou builds the fire outside, I head downstairs because I’m bound and determined to read this book I bought. Right now, I’ll get lost in anyone’s story but mine.
When my feet hit the landing, Samantha’s moaning and groaning hits my ears. The thump of the headboard in sync with her verbal declaration of how great it feels fills the small hallway.
Jealousy I’ve never felt before crawls up my throat and makes breathing a struggle. I bite my bottom lip. What is Kingston doing to her in there? She could be an advertisement vouching for his sexual abilities. Either that or she’s a great actor because the longer I stand in the hallway listening to them, the hornier I get.
My mind drifts to images of Kingston’s hands on me. I have no idea if he’d be with me like he is with Samantha right now—which sounds uncontrolled and unrestrained and a little too chaotic for my taste. Not that I don’t want to be fucked good and hard. Just the thought brings a rush of blood to my face. And then I remember that he’s in there with her and seething jealousy feels as if it’s eating away at my insides.
I can’t handle listening to him with someone else, so I grab my book from my room and rush up the stairs. I hope he takes a shower after he’s done because I’m not sure I can handle smelling another woman on him even though we’re only friends.
“How was skiing?” Kingston’s voice startles me and I miss a stair, twirling around and falling on my ass.
“What? How?” My hand covers my heart.
He laughs and holds out a hand. “I know I’m good-looking, but you’ve known me almost my entire life. You should be used to these looks.” He winks.
I hate that fucking wink.
I accept his hand. He’s showered. Dressed in sweatpants and a long-sleeve T-shirt with an unzipped sweatshirt over. I don’t say anything, listening intently for a moment.
Sure enough, Samantha screams—or more accurately, sounds like she’s howling like a wolf. If she’s not careful, they’re going to think she’s calling the pack.
“I thought you two were…” I point toward downstairs.
“No.” He laughs and steps up one step, cornering me against the railing of the stairs. “That’s Tank. Why, Stella…” His gaze dips down, but I’m as covered as though I’m about to go build a snow fort. “Are you jealous?”
I scoff. “What are you talking about?” I back step up another stair, but he follows me.
“Your lip is all swollen like you’ve been biting it. That’s usually a sign that you’re upset.”
I shake my head. “No, it’s not.”
“If you say so.” He shrugs and walks by me up the stairs, seemingly unfazed.
God help me, I follow him, checking out his ass instead of telling him off.
“That’s right. We’re friends, so of course you wouldn’t be jealous.” He grabs a beer from the fridge. “Saw that you and Lou have a cozy fire out on the deck.” He eyes my book. “Hmm.”
“What?” I square my shoulders, grab the bottle of white wine in the fridge, and pour myself a glass.
“What?”
“Your little hmm.” I slam the bottle on the count
er a little too hard and he chuckles, getting the reaction he wants out of me.
“Just that if you were my girlfriend, the last thing you’d need is a book. Hell, you’d be thinking I jumped right out of those pages.”
I swallow my wine. “Is that what jumping out of a helicopter does to you? Inflates your ego?” I open my mouth to clear it up that Lou isn’t my boyfriend, but he’s quick to reply.
“No. I don’t need to do that to know that if you were mine, Samantha’s screams would sound like whispers compared to what would be coming out of your mouth.” He tips the beer and I watch as his Adam’s apple rises and falls.
Please, someone, save me.
“Your ego never ceases to amaze me.” I walk past him with my book in hand.
“You can’t deny it.” He glances outside, and I follow his vision to see Lou and Allie in conversation around the fire he built.
“Deny what?” I ask.
“That you want me. Come on, Stella, when you walked downstairs, you thought that was me with Samantha and it bothered you. Just admit it.”
“I thought it was disgusting, if you must know.”
“But you thought it was me with her, didn’t you?”
I blow out my breath and shake my head.
He looks out toward the deck again and his eyes narrow. I turn to see what’s making his nostrils flare. My mouth falls open and my gaze turns back to Kingston, but he’s heading to the door.
“What the hell, Lunchbox?” Kingston yells so loudly that a group of birds scatter from the surrounding trees.
Allie strips her lips off of Lou’s, and I blink three times to make sure I’m seeing right.
“I’m so sorry, Stella,” Allie says.
I shake my head. She has nothing to be sorry for. “Don’t be.”
Kingston’s head whips around to me. “Don’t be? Jesus, Stella, she’s kissing your boyfriend.”
“No,” I say, but Kingston barrels across the distance and cocks his arm back.
Lou’s shaking his head, telling Kingston he has it all wrong.
Kingston won’t hear it. “What could I possibly have wrong? You’re with Stella and you’re kissing Allie.” His fist connects with Lou’s eye and Lou falls back into his chair, not fighting back. “You’re an asshole. Do you have any idea how big you just screwed up?”
Allie rushes to Lou’s side to check out the damage then runs past me inside, coming out with a steak Tank brought up last night. She places it on Lou’s eye.
“Say something?” Kingston’s eyes plead with me. “You cannot just let them both get away with this.”
I open my mouth, but I’m stricken mute because he’s being so protective.
“Fine. I will.” He turns his attention back to Lou. “You’re a motherfucking asshole. You had a chance with Stella. Do you understand what a fucking honor that is? And you kiss the one friend she’s made since coming to Anchorage? How did I not know that my best friend is a douchebag?”
Lou stands, holding the steak to his face. “I didn’t have a chance with Stella. There’s nothing going on between us because she’s been straight up from the beginning that she’s hung up on you.” He pokes Kingston in the chest. “What kind of guy do you think I am?”
Mortification heats my cheeks. Kingston turns to look at me, mouth hanging open. I nod that Lou is telling the truth.
He throws up his hands. “Why didn’t anyone tell me?”
“Because we just had a conversation about it. Stella was clear with me this morning that nothing was going to happen between us. I had a great time with Allie today.” He turns around and smiles, but Allie looks at me sheepishly. “We might not jump out of helicopters to get our thrills, but we got a little carried away.”
“What the hell is going on?” Samantha comes out onto the deck, a sheet wrapped around her body.
Tank follows after her, wearing his boxers. “Why the hell do you have my steak on your face, Lunchbox? You owe me twenty bucks.”
“Just go back to your fuck fest and do me a favor, Tank, put a muzzle on Sam.” Allie waves them off.
Surprisingly, they leave without another word.
Kingston’s shoulders slump. “Sorry, man, I just…” He inhales a deep breath.
“Well, at least I know if we do ever get in a fight, you’ve got a killer right hook.” He takes the steak off his face.
Kingston winces. “Sorry, man. I just thought…”
I shake my head when he looks in my direction. It’s like déjà vu all over again. I stomp into the house, walk down the stairs, and slam my bedroom door. But Samantha starts screaming again like she’s in the world’s greatest orgasm contest, so I snatch Allie’s keys off the desk, throw on a coat, and slide into my boots.
“Stella,” Allie says, rushing into the room. “You can’t leave.”
“I’ll be back. I just need space right now.” I slide past her and out the door into the hallway.
Kingston’s there, sitting on the end of the stairs with his hands clasped between his open legs.
“Nope.” I point at him. “I do not want to talk to you right now.” I walk up the stairs, squeezing past him.
“I’m going with her,” Allie says, and suddenly she’s at my side at the top of the stairs. “Here, give me the keys. I’ll drive you wherever you want to go.”
I open up the front door and drop the keys into her hand. I turn to look behind me and find Kingston at the top of the stairs, hands in his sweatshirt, staring at me. He truly is the most gorgeous man.
“You stay here.” I point at him again.
Once we’re in Allie’s car, I let my head fall into my hands and tears cascade down my face. Allie reverses then puts the car in drive. I glance at the house. Kingston is at the top of the stairs, watching me. I just can’t right now.
“I’m sorry, Stella. I’m the worst friend ever. Did you really like Lou? Like, suddenly his lips were on mine and I kissed him back. But I thought you said you didn’t like him like that and that nothing was going on with you guys anymore?” Allie rambles.
I put my hand on her forearm. “This isn’t about Lou.”
“Oh phew, but still, I have no idea what came over me. Why would he even kiss me?”
“Maybe because the two of you were flirting the entire time we were skiing today.”
She turns off the residential street the house is on and I feel as though I can finally inhale a full breath.
“We did?” She looks at me but quickly shifts her vision back to the road. “Anyway, forget all that. So why are you crying then?”
“Because Kingston just punched his best friend because of me.” I clench my shaking hands. “It’s happening all over again.”
“What is?” She veers into the parking lot of a small diner. “I don’t know about you, but I need to eat when I’m stressed.”
I laugh because when does Allie not think of food?
She turns off the ignition and holds the keys. “Pie on me?”
I nod, and we file out of the car. A nice waitress seats us in a booth by the door, and Allie orders everything—pie and a milkshake and a sundae with extra nuts.
“Okay, be straight with me, Stella. How do you really feel about Kingston?” She’s looking at me with such sympathy and understanding that all the walls I’ve so expertly constructed in my time back here come crumbling down and the truth pours out.
“I love him.”
She smiles and reaches over the table, covering my hand with hers. “I thought so. Why the hell aren’t you guys a couple then? Because that boy is crazy about you.”
Over an array of sweets for the next hour, I tell her the whole sordid tale of Stella and Kingston—all the love, all the affection, all the pain, all the betrayal. All the reasons we can’t be together.
Twenty
Kingston
I made her cry. Again. What the hell is wrong with me? How could I ever think we’d be good together when all that ever lives between us is tears?
I
slam the front door, heading right for the fridge, ready to drink myself into oblivion. If I’m lucky, I won’t remember tomorrow what happened tonight.
Too bad Lou is prepared for me and standing in front of the fridge. “I think you need a babysitter tonight.”
“I think you’re wrong.” His eye is purple and swollen. “Fuck, I’m sorry, man.”
He touches his eye and winces. “Please, it adds to my tough appeal. But next time, why don’t you start with the questions instead of the fists?”
I nod. “Can I please have a beer now?”
He motions with his head to the counter, where there’s a cold beer and a shot of something dark. “You get that until I say more.”
“Jesus, I’m an adult.”
“Then act like one.”
I down the shot and narrow my eyes at him. He’s got to be fucking with me. “What does that mean?”
“It means you and Stella are acting like high school kids. This whole ‘I love her, but she hurt me so I’m gonna date someone else’ crap. I got caught in the middle of it, which sucks, yeah, but you told me you didn’t care if I dated the love of your life. That’s fucked up.”
I shrug.
“Don’t brush it off like it’s nothing. You’re miserable lately, and to tell you the truth, as soon as you and Stella are in a room together, it’s awkward and weird. Why do you think I stopped asking you to come up here?”
“Because you wanted to nail Stella?” My fist clenches around my beer.
“No. Because I can tell that the two of you together is gonna be a fucking buzzkill.”
I sip my beer and nudge my empty shot glass his way. He shakes his head.
“Pretty please with a cherry on top?” I say with an extra dose of sarcasm.
He shakes his head again. “If you don’t want to tell me whatever happened between the two of you, fine. I don’t care because it’s in the past anyway. But almost a decade later, the two of you are still wrapped up in one another whether you want to admit it or not.” He takes a gulp of his own beer.