Stuck Landing

by Lauren Gallagher

  Levi kissed him again and gestured at the array of munchies and drinks. “Well. Shall we take all this downstairs and figure out what we want to watch first?”

  “Sounds good to me,” I said.

  Everyone gathered what they could carry, and we headed down to the theater. Since his hands were full, Levi shouldered the door open and leaned against it to let us go in ahead of him. I flicked on the light and Natalya stopped in her tracks.

  “Wow.” Her jaw dropped as she stared at Levi’s elaborate home theater. “This is amazing.”

  “Thanks.” Levi smiled. While Carter and I laid out the munchies on TV trays, Levi showed Natalya around the theater, from his extensive collection of films to the top-of-the-line projection equipment.

  And I had to admit, I was impressed. Not by the theater. Not by Natalya’s enthusiasm for the technical aspects. No, I was impressed as hell that, despite not being a cat person, she never once stepped on either of the two cats who were doing their level best to trip either her or Levi. She looked down whenever she was about to move and seemed to both carefully and effortlessly step around them without ever knocking one aside or squishing a paw.

  Now, she wasn’t an antianimal person. She had a dog, after all, and I had no doubt she adored him. But I was used to my ex, who never seemed to come over here without tripping over Zelda at least once. It didn’t help that Zelda couldn’t stand her, but still.

  I turned away to finish helping Carter arrange food, and behind me I heard Natalya laugh and mutter, “You’re going to get your toes squashed, little one.”

  “That’s pretty typical,” Levi said. “I keep thinking I should get them steel-toed boots if they’re going to be underfoot like this.”

  “No, no. Just have to watch where I’m going, since I guess they won’t.”

  I turned again, and to my surprise, Natalya had Link in her arms. Levi was holding Zelda, and the two of them continued the tour of the theater.

  “You guys want to watch a movie?” Carter asked. “Or take apart the projector and see how it works?”

  “Oh, all right.” Levi sighed dramatically. “Always ruining my fun.”

  Natalya shrugged as she set Link on the back of one of the leather love seats. “Married life?”

  Carter laughed. “Exactly.”

  “Great,” Levi muttered. “Encourage him . . .”

  “She will,” I said. “Don’t you worry.”

  We took our seats on the two plush love seats. As Levi pulled up his list of movies on the screen, Natalya absently brushed some cat fur off her T-shirt but didn’t seem overly bothered by it.

  And brushing it off was pointless anyway. We hadn’t even picked out a movie before Zelda jumped up and flopped down across Natalya’s lap and mine. She was mostly on Natalya, but her tail and one leg stretched over me as if to say, Fine, I suppose I’ll hang out with you too, lowly mortal.

  Shifting around to accommodate the cat, I leaned against Natalya, and she wrapped her arm around my shoulders.

  And this was . . . perfect. As we munched on chips, sipped our Cokes, and agreed on an obscure Icelandic film that only Levi had seen, I was so comfortable.

  Not just physically, either. I couldn’t remember the last time Leigh and I had been able to hang out with Levi and Carter or any of our friends—mutual or otherwise—and just relax. It had nothing to do with the presence or absence of Alfonse of Jeremy, either. No, even before Carter and I had been stalked enough to warrant personal security, socializing had been a challenge. A complicated maze of emotional stumbling blocks. More often than not, when Leigh and I went somewhere with friends, everyone would spend the whole night walking on eggshells, carefully avoiding making a benign comment that might somehow ignite an argument between her and me.

  Eventually, the invitations had dwindled except from our closest friends, but even Levi and Carter had their limits. During that last year, I really only saw them at work or when a fight with Leigh had driven me out of my house and over to theirs.

  Sex was great, but this was what I’d missed more than anything in my last relationship. Being comfortable together, physically and otherwise. Being comfortable together with other people. No nerves. No eggshells under my feet. No waiting for something to drop out of the sky and ruin everything. Just Natalya’s arm around me, her heartbeat thudding softly alongside mine, with a movie on the screen and a couple of good friends next to us.

  With Natalya, I could not only be around other people I loved—I could breathe.

  Zelda squirmed a bit, then turned onto her back, stretching out her enormous paws and exposing her fluffy belly.

  I glanced at Levi. “Zelda’s the one who doesn’t mind her tummy scratched, right?”

  “Hmm, can’t remember.” He smirked. “Scratch it and see what happens.”

  “Asshole.”

  Carter snickered.

  Natalya eyed Levi, then me. “So she . . . doesn’t like it?”

  “I’m not taking the chance,” I said. “I think she’s the one who almost took my hand off last time.”

  Natalya pressed back against the seat, staring down at the giant cat stretched across her lap. “Um . . .”

  I scratched Zelda’s ears, and she went limp. After a moment, Natalya tentatively petted Zelda’s side, steering clear of the exposed belly, and was rewarded with purring loud enough to be heard over the movie.

  The cats’ aggressive cuddliness had annoyed Leigh to no end, but Natalya—despite being, by her own admission, not a cat person—didn’t seem to mind. She even absently petted Zelda. I’d always wondered how anyone could resist that, especially with these two cats. Being Maine Coons, they were exceptionally plush. And really, how could anyone not scratch a kitty’s chin when the result was that adorable scrunched up face and purring that rivaled machine gun fire?

  Well, Leigh sure resisted. And Leigh isn’t here.

  Natalya’s here. Thank God.

  It’s a shame something like this can’t last for— Nope. Not gonna think about that. Not today.

  I snuggled closer and focused on the movie and its subtitles and the beautiful woman next to me. That little voice in the back of my mind was still there, but I ignored it. Tried to. Almost succeeded.

  When the credits started rolling, everyone sat up and stretched.

  “Looks like we’re out of chips and salsa.” Levi stood, twisting a crick out of his back—audibly—before picking up the empty bowls. “More drinks?”

  “Yes, please.” I stood too. “I’ll give you a hand. Natalya, what about you?”

  “Another drink, yes, please.” She pointed at the cat sprawled across her legs. “I suppose I’m not going anywhere, though.”

  “Have your legs fallen asleep yet?” Carter gestured at Link, who was similarly positioned in his lap.

  “Not yet. Does that usually happen?”

  “Give it time. Trust me.”

  “Well, while they keep you two here . . .” Levi collected the empty glasses. “Why don’t you choose the next film?”

  “Will do.” Carter picked up the remote.

  As he and Natalya started looking through the collection, Levi and I went up to the kitchen.

  We set everything on the island, and Levi broke the silence. “So, you two seem pretty . . . cozy.”

  I smiled but, as I replayed his comment in my mind, caught an undertone I couldn’t quite identify. “That’s a good thing, right?”

  “Well, I would think so. But you’re the one who was trying to nix this thing before it even started, so . . .” He held my gaze, his expression unusually serious. Then he glanced over his shoulder, toward the hallway that led to the theater, as if to make sure we were alone before he faced me again. “Is everything going okay?”

  “Yeah. It’s going great.”

  He watched me for a moment, squinting a little like he was reading me. “It’s going great?”

  I cocked my head. “Why?”

  “You tell me.”

  It took
all the restraint I had not to fidget under his scrutiny. “You asked.”

  “Mm-hmm. Because I know you.” He pressed his palms on the counter and looked me right in the eye. “And I know all the reservations you had before—those aren’t things that’ll just vanish. So knowing you, I can’t tell if you’re lying about it being great, or . . .”

  I dropped my gaze and shifted my weight, and then realized I’d just tipped my hand and given myself away. “Am I really that much of a pessimist?”

  “What’s going on?” he asked softly. “This is about everything we talked about before, isn’t it?”

  “Just . . .” I thumbed the edge of one of the glasses I’d set on the counter. “We’ve been spending tons of time and a lot of nights together, but I still can’t get over everything I told you about.”

  “About her being bi?” He raised his eyebrows. “Or a coworker?”

  I had to pause and think about that—her being a coworker hadn’t even crossed my mind recently. I could barely remember it being an issue at all. “The first one. That she’s bi.”

  “Has she given you any reason to doubt her?” He pulled some chips from the cabinet and met my gaze as he opened the bag. “Anything to reinforce that worry?”

  “No. Not really.”

  “But you’re still as worried about it as you were before.”

  I nodded.

  “Not surprising.”

  “What does that mean?”

  He poured the chips into the bowl. “It means I know you, and I know that if you have some kind of little hang-up about something, you’re not going to just let it go when any other sane, rational person would let it go.”

  The comment irritated me, but not nearly as much as my lack of a rebuttal.

  “I don’t see what you’re so worried about.” He paused, the corner of his mouth twitching slightly. “I mean, was sex with me really so amazing that you can’t imagine a woman not wanting—”

  I burst out laughing and smacked his arm. “Shut up, Levi.”

  He snickered but quickly sobered. “In all seriousness, she must want to be with you, or she wouldn’t be.”

  “I keep telling myself that, but then I wonder if I was just the nearest warm body the night she and her ex split up.”

  “Maybe you were.” He shrugged. “Maybe that’s why you two hooked up that night. But it doesn’t explain why she’s downstairs with my cat in her lap waiting for us to come back with drinks.”

  I started to speak but deflated. Slouching against the island, I released my breath. “Okay, you got me. I know it’s probably irrational as hell, but I’m still worried about it. Her being bi, I mean. But . . . I don’t know. I really like where things are going with her. I mean, I don’t even think about the fact that she’s bi when we’re actually together.” Most of the time.

  “Then maybe that means it doesn’t matter.”

  I drummed my fingers on the counter. “If it doesn’t, why does it still bother me so much when we’re not together?”

  “Because that’s you, Anna. You overthink things. It makes you nervous, so you’re dwelling on it, and you’ll keep dwelling on it until it turns into something bigger than it really needs to be.” He nodded toward the theater. “If you let it get too big, you’re going to lose Natalya.”

  My chest hurt just thinking about that. I didn’t say anything, though, and Levi didn’t push the issue. Silently, we refilled drinks and munchies. Then we gathered everything and went back down to the theater.

  Zelda hadn’t moved, so Natalya hadn’t either. We arranged the drinks, the munchies, and ourselves as best we could without disturbing Her Majesty. Once we’d settled, Zelda peered at us as if to ask if we were quite through with all this fidgeting. Then she started licking her paw, probably to let us know exactly how little she cared.

  Natalya draped her arm around my shoulders and kissed my temple.

  I lifted my chin and looked up at her. “You having a good time?”

  She smiled. “Very much. You?”

  “Definitely.”

  She kissed me softly.

  Then we settled against the plush cushions, drinks in hand and cat sprawled across her, and watched the opening credits of whatever movie she and Carter had decided on. I slipped my fingers between hers, and though my gaze was fixed on the screen, my attention was decidedly not.

  I really could get used to this. All of it. Days like this would be few and far between as long as the four of us were at the mercy of a grueling production schedule. And our time alone as two couples meant all kinds of rules and guidelines because of our bodyguards, but I hoped this wasn’t the last time we would be able to shed our personal security, hunker down with the cats and couches, and watch movies.

  I could see us doing this every chance we had. Or if we couldn’t swing a one-day double date staycation in Levi’s theater, I was perfectly content curled up on my own couch with Natalya. We could be watching movies, sitcoms, or dumb reality shows. Or just sitting there enjoying each other’s company. Anytime, anywhere, just let me listen to her breathe instead of whatever was being said on the screen.

  Maybe that meant Levi was right. Maybe Natalya’s sexuality didn’t matter.

  But that scared me too. Was it really not a big deal, or was I just letting my guard down? I’d decide I was comfortable dating a bi woman, I’d settle into being with her, feeling fully secure that she wanted to be with me too, and then bam! Prince Charming would fall out of the goddamned sky and remind her what she was missing.

  I couldn’t resist, though. Natalya was too much of exactly what I needed and wanted in a woman, even if I knew the other shoe would eventually drop. This wasn’t forever. It couldn’t be.

  But for now, it was good, so I intended to enjoy it while it lasted.

  Because this was the life.

  It was a damned good thing we’d all taken advantage of that day off, because life in this business was busy as hell. Levi’s role was getting bigger as the season went on. Carter was in damn near every scene of every episode. The stunts were getting crazier and more elaborate. And as always, I was working on eight million episodes at a time—planning, directing, producing, editing . . . and all the while trying not to murder one of the other producers.

  Natalya and I still carved out time when we could. We hadn’t yet had the opportunity to take that ride on the beach we kept talking about, but at least we spent time together. Sometimes it was just the two of us, and sometimes we dragged our tired corpses over to Levi and Carter’s for movies.

  The majority of our time, though, was spent at work. Today, we were shooting on location, and we had to start way too fucking early. Every time I scheduled a shoot for the crack of dawn, I hated myself for it. In the end, the scene would look amazing because of the atmospheric lighting—particularly out here in the Olympic National Forest—but goddamn, the hours sucked sometimes. They especially sucked since we tried to use as few people and as little equipment as possible to minimize the damage to the environment, which meant those of us who did come were busting our humps from start to finish.

  We had to be ready to shoot by sunrise, so we were on location and setting up at one in the morning. Now, with dawn less than two hours away, everyone was hurrying to make sure we were ready to shoot the instant the sun was where the cinematographer wanted it. The only asses in chairs were actors getting made up. Everyone else was constantly on the move. Grips carefully arranged cords and generators to make sure no one tripped or fried. Assistants jogged from person to person with folders and clipboards. Radios crackled. Generators grumbled. Tripods and stands clanked and clattered as they were set up between bushes and trees.

  And though there was a palpable sense of urgency in the air, no one was in a panic or running around like a headless chicken. Typical of a set, this was the very definition of organized chaos. I may have been tired and just a little bit stressed, but I lived for this.

  Through it all, though, I kept stumbling today. Every time I ca
ught a glimpse of Natalya, I lost my stride and my train of thought for a split second.

  Not for the usual reasons, either. Of course she was still hot enough to make my breath catch, but today, my double take came from elsewhere. Specifically, concern. Something wasn’t right.

  Natalya was as focused as ever—a job like hers couldn’t be half assed, or people got killed. All the while, though, an invisible weight pushed down on her strong shoulders. Her gait was slower, heavier, like she was trudging through mud instead of across sparse undergrowth. When she spoke to people, she was subdued, giving orders but not barking them. Yes, she was focused on her job, but there was definitely something working against her, trying to tug her away from the job at hand to . . . what?

  In turn, her distraction kept tugging at me. Like a nagging feeling in my gut, a worry about something I’d have to deal with later, it kept prodding me even when I was concentrating on something else. Throughout setup and shooting, it was there, tucked in the back of my mind but just present enough to keep reminding me I needed to find out what was bothering her.

  Like her, I had a job to do, and I pushed my uneasiness as far down as possible while I worked. We only had a narrow window, after all, before we lost the optimal lighting. The cinematographer was finicky as hell when we used natural light, and no one—myself included—would be pleased if we dillydallied, missed our window, and had to come back out here another day to shoot again.

  Despite a preoccupied stunt coordinator and distracted director, the scene was in the can with thirty minutes to spare. We didn’t break down the set, though—there was another scene to be filmed in the same setting. Normal daylight worked for that one, plus some extra artificial light to compensate for the sun’s movements as the day went on.

  While the lights were rigged up and costumes and makeup were modified for the new scene, the rest of us broke for lunch.

  And finally, I had my opportunity to pull Natalya aside.

  She’d taken a seat on a moss-covered log a few yards from the set and was nibbling a sandwich in between sips of coffee.

  “Hey,” I said. “You mind if I join you?”