She glances over her shoulder, smiling. Hopeful. Nervous.
I arch my eyebrows.
My mother wrings her hands in front of her stomach, shrugging. “I know I always said it was too soon for college, but maybe it would be better. You sounded so happy in Woodvale. I think you’re ready. You need something. A distraction.”
A distraction.
Ha.
Right.
I stare at my mother, watching her squirm. Her eyes flick up to my hair again, and my heart blackens. She doesn’t understand.
I know she’s trying to do the right thing. She’s trying to help me grow. Trying to let go of her fears, too. College is her way of saying, You’re ready.
But it’s not enough.
I look at the glossy, colorful brochures as my heart constricts. Each pamphlet has a beaming, happy-looking student on it. They wear hoodies with the college’s letters emblazoned across them. They carry books, smiling for the camera. Some of them point to computer screens, laughing with their peers.
It’s all so fake. So empty. So safe.
Would I ever fit in there? At any of these schools?
I stare at each brochure in turn, my heart shrinking smaller and smaller, until I wonder if it ever existed at all.
These universities and community colleges are all within a twenty-minute drive of my mother’s house. I gulp, sliding into a seat at the table. Resignation settles over me like a weighted blanket, comforting and stifling all at once.
“You don’t look happy, honey.” My mother wipes her hands on a tea towel, her eyebrows drawing together. She puts some breakfast down on the table in front of me in her never-ending quest to feed me into submission. “I thought this is what you wanted. You always talked about going to college once you were in remission.”
“I know.” My fingers slide along the edges of the glossy pamphlets as my stomach twists into knots.
“You can always wait until next year if you’re not feeling up to it.” My mother puts her hand on my shoulder. “You’ve been through a lot. You need to let your body heal.”
I stare at the cast on my arm as a bitter taste coats my tongue. I can move my arm without pain, now. I don’t need a sling. My body’s healing, but my mind is still a mess.
Is this what lies ahead for me? Living in my mother’s house, staying hidden away from everything that might hurt me?
The voice in my head gets louder.
I should never have left Woodvale.
The thought of going to a college nearby makes me want to scream. If I had hair, I’d tear it out.
Being with Finn let something loose inside me, and I’m not sure I can cage it up again. Fear doesn’t seem so scary anymore. Life doesn’t seem so meaningless. My future doesn’t seem so ordinary.
The only life I can see for myself is one that involves Finn. I’ve spent a month wallowing in my own weakness, thinking the feeling would pass. I’ve talked myself down from the ledge a million times, convincing myself that Finn is no good for me. That he’s too reckless. Too wild. That he’ll be the death of me.
But isn’t it better to die knowing you’ve truly lived? Truly loved?
I’ve been flirting with death for the past six years. I’ve lived in limbo, merely existing.
Don’t I deserve more?
What Finn and I had was real. It still is real. As I stare at the pamphlets, running my fingers over my shaved head, I know it’s too real to resist. I can’t deny it anymore.
I have to go. I have to try.
Maybe he won’t want me. It’s possible he doesn’t feel like I do at all. He could have moved on already and forgotten all about me. There could be a whole line of Double-J’s ready to take my place.
Insecurity swirls, growing louder in my head—but I square my shoulders and set my jaw.
What was it that Finn said when the plane’s roller doors opened?
I have to stare fear in the face, and then do it anyway.
34
Finn
I pack up the last box of gear at the airfield and load it into the van. The plane is inside the hangar now, covered in a heavy tarp. The big steel building has a huge chain and padlock to keep it closed.
I slam the back door of the van and walk to the driver’s side without looking back. I hope I never have to come here again.
The faded outline of Woodvale Skydive is imprinted above the hanger’s big double doors. It’s the only reminder of what the big, corrugated steel building used to be. The new owners will be able to paint over it.
If I can find new owners, that is.
A skydiving business isn’t exactly easy to sell.
But I have no choice. I’m closing up shop. I cut the season early, letting Racer and Benji go. We did enough jumps to finish up the summer and honor the bookings we already had. I made enough profit to pay my father back, and the sale of the plane and airfield should be enough to keep me going for a while. He can keep the trust fund money. I know quitting this business will disappoint him again.
But it’s my only option.
I’ve spent the past month trying to move on from Esme, but I can’t. My heart is still cupped in the palm of her hand, and I have no choice but to find her and try to get it back.
She was right to leave. I was out of line. I didn’t realize how fragile she was, and I pushed her too far. I deserved a kick in the gut. I have no hard feelings toward her or Kit.
But I need her back. I can change, and I intend to show her.
I’ll sell the business and get a regular job. Maybe I’ll go back to law school and work for my father. He can keep his money—I don’t need it. I’ll make my own way if I need to. I did it once before with the skydiving business, who says I can’t do it again? Whatever I do, it’ll be safe. Secure. Normal.
No more jumping out of planes. No more jumping off bridges. No risking my neck just for the thrill of it. I know, now, that adrenaline isn’t enough. It doesn’t feed my soul the way Esme does. It doesn’t complete me. It doesn’t make life worth living.
I’d rather give up everything to prove to Esme that I’m worthy of her. To show her that I care.
I love her.
I love her.
I love her.
How many times can I say it? Will she even believe me when I tell her?
I love Esme enough to change everything about my life, which is exactly what I’m going to do. The need to prove it to her has reached a boiling point. It simmered inside me for a month.
I tried to ignore it. After Racer bailed me out, I started skydiving again. I went to the Blue Cat with him on weekends. I pretended I was okay.
But the truth is, I’m not okay. As soon as Esme fell off that bike, something broke inside me. Maybe I’ve always been broken, but I never realized it until I saw her crumpled at the base of that tree.
I drive from the airfield to Racer’s house. He’s sitting on his front porch with a girl in his lap. When he sees the van, he lifts his hand toward me.
I cut the engine and slide out of the driver’s seat, taking a few steps toward him.
“Hey, boss.” He pats the girl’s ass for her to get up, then extends a hand to me.
I still don’t like him. I hate the way he looked at Esme, and that means I can never truly respect Racer—but he did bail me out of jail. He’s been there for me this month, reliable and consistent.
I point my thumb over my shoulder. “You want my BASE jumping gear?”
Racer’s eyebrows jump up. “What?”
“I’m not doing that anymore.”
“I always knew you were a pussy.” He guffaws, winking at the girl. She titters. Turning back to me, Racer arches a brow. “How much?”
“Nothing. Just take it.”
“You’re going to give me four grand’s worth of BASE jumping gear for free? Why?”
“I don’t need it anymore. Call it a thank you for getting me out of jail and being a good employee this summer.”
Racer walks toward me, his eye
s searching mine. “You okay, Finn?”
“I’m fine.”
“Ah, right, fine. Really? Because you’ve shut up shop right when business picked up. You’re giving away top-of-the-line equipment, and it looks like you’re about to skip town. That doesn’t look like someone who’s okay.”
“There’s something I need to do, and there’s nothing left for me in Woodvale. I tried BASE jumping. It was fun, but it’s not for me.” My tone is clipped, but Racer just won’t let it go.
“Is this because you got arrested? Because dude, I’ve been arrested plenty of times after a jump. It’s part of the fun. What did they fine you? Two grand? Pff.” He shakes his head, laughing. “Worth it.”
“It’s not about the fine or the arrest,” I say.
Racer tilts his head. His face is open. His eyes are clear. For a second, I wish I was like him. I wish things were simple for me again, and all I cared about was adrenaline and sex. I wish I could go out and party without a care in the world. I wish I could enjoy death-defying jumps, because I had nothing to lose.
But the truth is, right now I do have something to lose. I think I’ve already lost it, but my heart won’t stop hoping there’s a chance. If I show Esme I’m worthy of her, maybe I’ll be able to win her back. I have to hope I’ve got a shot, because otherwise I have nothing.
I shake my head, walking back toward the van. Opening the rear doors, I pull out a box of gear and drop it at Racer’s feet. “All yours.”
He grins. “All right. I won’t say no.”
I nod, turning back to the van. When I have the driver’s side door open and one leg inside, Racer stops me.
“Hey, boss.”
“Yeah?”
“If you ever open the business again, let me know. I didn’t mind working for you. I’ll jump for you whenever you need me.”
I nod, climbing into the van and giving him a wave. When I drive away from Racer, it feels even more final than when I closed up the airfield hangar.
I’m not BASE jumping anymore. I’m not skydiving anymore. It’s not worth it. It’s a cheap thrill—and I’ve discovered something better.
Still, I glance in my rearview mirror and see Racer pulling out my gear, and something tugs at my heart. It hurts to give it up. That business meant everything to me, and it was a hell of a lot more fulfilling than working in an office or whatever the hell else I’ll end up doing. But I have no choice. I have to leave.
My heart hammers as I make my way back into town. I turn the radio on, just to drown out my swirling thoughts. I could be making a mistake. I might be shooting myself in the foot by closing everything up, but I won’t know that until I see Esme.
Does she even think about me anymore? What if I’m just some summer fling to her?
As I turn onto the back alley leading to the rear of the shop, my chest feels tight.
What am I going to do, show up at Esme’s mother’s house and beg for her back?
No. She’ll never take me back like this.
I have to prove myself first. I have to find a job, and keep a job, then I can talk to her. I have to show her that I’ve changed. No more jumping. No more arrests. No more stupid decisions and adrenaline-drunk adventures.
I have to show her that she can trust me to be there for her, always.
It might take months. A year. Maybe more. But I’ll do it. What choice do I have? The alternative is continuing to skydive in Woodvale without her, which isn’t an option at all.
Parking the car behind the shop, my heart feels heavy. My era as an adrenaline junkie started and ended with heartbreak—except this time, I need to fix it. I’m not going to walk away from Esme without trying, even if I have to give everything up in the process.
As I open the shop’s back door, a noise makes me pause. The doorbell rings a few times, and then someone pounds on the shop’s front door.
I sigh, shoulders drooping. How many times do I have to tell people we’re closed? There’s a sign on the door and everything. It’s not hard to read.
Every time I have to explain that I’m closing up shop, it cuts me a little deeper.
The pounding on the door continues. I grit my teeth.
I put my palm on the stair’s handrail, determined to ignore the noise. I can’t face another person telling me they’re disappointed I’m shutting the business down. I can’t take the hesitation and the tugging at my gut that tells me I should just stay and do what I love.
How can I do what I love when the woman I love isn’t here?
I’m halfway up the stairs to my apartment when the doorbell rings again, and again, and again. The pounding gets louder, and I pause.
Frustration flares as I spin around, stomping down the steps back to the ground floor. Whoever it is, they’re going to get a piece of my mind. Illiterate assholes can’t read a fucking closed sign. I’ll have to explain that I’m shutting it down again, and plunge another dagger into my own chest as I do it.
I don’t want to close. I have to. But no one seems to fucking understand that.
I love Esme. I need Esme.
I can’t have Esme if I’m here, and she’s there. The only way I can show her what she means to me is by becoming the type of man she needs.
How is that so complicated?
I push the door to the shopfront open and stop dead in my tracks.
It’s not an illiterate asshole. It’s not someone wanting a skydive, demanding to know why I’m closing down.
It’s a short, skinny, black-clad, bald-headed goth chick. Midnight eyeliner, velvet choker, ripped jeans, and too much attitude. Her arm is in a cast, and she’s drawn all over it in black sharpie.
Esme.
She looks just as gorgeous as she did the first time she stepped into this shop, and the moment I see her, I know there’s no getting my heart back. She’ll have it until the day I die.
35
Esme
“Took you long enough.” I spit the words out when Finn opens the door, even though I don’t mean to sound so harsh.
“Hey.” Finn stares at me, breathless. In the early evening light, his eyes are a deep, forest green. His lashes are thicker than I remembered, and I’m still as jealous of them as I was the day we met.
I walk inside and rip the handwritten note taped to the shop’s glass door. “What the hell is this?”
“I’m closing down,” he explains.
He’s so close I can almost taste him. I inhale his scent, trying not to let his presence knock me to the floor. His words take a few seconds to register, and I shift my gaze from him, to the note, and back to him again.
“Why?”
“I’m moving to Seattle.”
I frown. “Why? You hate the city.”
“To get a job.”
“You have a job, Finn. It’s running this very successful skydiving business. Did I miss the part where it was you who fell off his bike and hit his head? Are you concussed?”
Finn’s lips curl into a grin. He lets out a sharp breath of air that might pass for a chuckle. He’s still staring at me as if I’m some sort of apparition.
Which, I guess, I am. I can hardly believe I’m here. Being this close to him, I’m barely hanging onto my own sanity.
“You’re here,” he whispers. “Why are you here?”
“I wanted to show you my new haircut. I did it myself. You like it?” I angle my face and run my palm over my scalp, smiling maniacally.
Why am I being such a weirdo? This is not what I planned while I was rushing down the highway to get here. I thought I’d run in his arms and kiss his face off. I thought I’d profess my love and tell him I couldn’t bear to go through life without him by my side. I was ready to promise a thousand skydives and a lifetime of mountain biking if it meant I could wake up next to him every day.
I’d get concussions until I couldn’t form proper sentences, if it meant I was doing it with him.
Instead, I’m acting like I’ve lost my damn mind.
I drop my
hand again, gulping. Finn clears his throat, gesturing toward the back door. He locks the shop door behind me and leads me to his apartment.
My mouth is dry. I play with the edge of my shirt with the tips of my fingers as we head up the stairs, my sneakers clanging loudly on the steel staircase. When Finn unlocks the door to his apartment and pushes it open, I let out a long sigh.
Home.
Finn picks up a few old takeout boxes from the coffee table and stuffs them in the garbage. He scoops a bunch of empty cans from the counter into the recycling bin, and then sprays an air freshener into the room. “Sorry. I haven’t, uh, cleaned…” He scratches his head, glancing in my direction.
“S’okay.”
Suddenly, it’s hard to speak. Words stay stuck in my throat when I try to say them, and all I can do is shift my weight from foot to foot. Finn looks at me from the kitchen and takes a deep breath.
“I’m sorry, Esme. I never meant to hurt you. I shouldn’t have pushed you to go mountain biking. You told me you didn’t want to.”
“I did want to, though. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t have gone. I’m not a pushover.”
He shakes his head. “Even so, I should have at least taken you on an easier trail.”
I chew my lip. “Well… Yeah, probably.”
When I crack a smile, hope flames in Finn’s eyes. He walks toward me, and I can almost feel his heart thumping from across the room. Every beat sends a shockwave across the distance that separates us.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
His pulse clangs against me, and my knees weaken. I suck a breath in through my teeth, hoping the words will come out when I try to say them. My throat feels so tight I’m not sure I’m able to produce a sound.
Still, I try. “Why are you closing down the business, Finn?” My voice is nothing more than a raspy croak.
His brows draw together as he takes another step toward me. He’s close enough to touch, but I still can’t quite bridge the distance between us.
Finn runs his fingers through his hair, his throat bobbing as he swallows. His eyes are intoxicating, and they’re glued on me.
Can't Have You: A Stand-Alone Brother's Best Friend Romance Page 20