by Lynn Stevens
“I know.” I reached up and ran my hand along his jaw and down his throat. But how normal is normal for two people hiding their relationship?
Someone shouted his name, and Gracin groaned. He kissed me quickly one more time. “I promise.”
I watched him retreat back onstage. The weight inside me grew. These last few days had been an audition of my own, in a way. I’d practiced not being with him. And I hated it. Every time I saw him, I wanted to hug him or simply touch him. How was I going to handle not seeing him? Or only seeing him on TV or in the news or, God forbid, the tabloids. As my heart cracked over what I would lose, reality broke in like a dose of ice-cold water.
“Carly, please tell me I didn’t just see that,” Luke said.
I tore my eyes off the stage to where my brother stood halfway down the corridor. Obviously, Gracin and I hadn’t learned our lesson about sucking face backstage. Luke stared at me with a mixture of disappointment and horror, the perfect combination of Dad and Mom.
“Please tell me you weren’t just making out with Gracin Ford.” He walked toward me with each word. His fists clenched at his sides. “Are you trying to ruin this family?”
“What?” The shock of his question forced me back against an electrical panel. It dug into my back.
“Did you even think about how getting involved with him would affect this family, the theater? Or were you too busy thinking about nailing a pop star?” Anger oozed from every pore in his skin. His eyes flashed red, and he really reminded me of our father. Dad didn’t need to yell or scream to get his point across. Neither did Luke.
I collapsed against the wall, moving to the left to avoid the panel. Tears filled my eyes as the burden of my relationship with Gracin slipped a little. Luke didn’t need the details, but he could at least see this wasn’t just a conquest for me. “It’s not like that,” I whispered. “We’re not like that.”
His features softened, but the anger still simmered beneath the surface. “What do you mean, Carly?”
I’m in love with him. But I couldn’t say it. “We … agreed to this summer only.” I stared Luke in the eyes, hoping he would see how much this hurt to admit, how much I wished my words weren’t true. “When we started this, we decided it would end when I left for school. And Gracin wouldn’t hold anything against the family or the theater if things go bad between us. He’s not like that, Luke.”
Luke scoffed. “These Hollywood types are like that.” He threw his hands in the air and spun in a circle. “God, I can’t believe you of all people fell for his load of shit.”
I slammed my palm against his shoulder, shoving him across the narrow corridor. “Fuck you, Luke. You don’t know anything about him or about me. So keep your judgmental attitude to yourself.”
“Really, Carly, I’m –”
“You’re not the best judge of character. If you were, your best friend wouldn’t have been a fucking rapist.” I bit my tongue. That was totally uncalled for. It wasn’t Luke’s fault Derrick did what he did.
Luke sighed and dropped his holier-than-thou attitude. “Yeah, you’ve got a point there. I never thought …. You’re sure this thing with Gracin won’t backfire. We won’t get a bad reputation out there?”
“Trust me for once.” I let my head fall back and stared at the dirty ceiling. “Gracin is nothing like that.”
I counted the rungs in the catwalk, waiting for Luke to say anything.
“Trust you? That’s almost funny.”
The lump forming in my throat choked back my breath. I might’ve been a lot of things, but untrustworthy wasn’t one of them
“I’m going to have to tell Dad, Carly,” he added. “This isn’t something we can keep quiet from him.”
The belly laugh that filled me was so unexpected it surprised even me. “Oh, Luke, there are so many things I’ve kept from Dad that he’d flip his shit over.”
Luke snorted. “Yeah, I guess that’s probably true.”
I let my head fall to my chest, then raised it to meet Luke’s eyes. “Please, don’t tell him. I don’t want Dad to ruin this for me.”
Luke cocked his head to the side, looking more like Mom. “You care about this guy, don’t you?”
More than you know. “It’s just a fling,” I said, ripping a gorge through my chest. “Nothing more.”
Luke nodded and back stepped down the hall. “Okay. Between us. Just … be careful, sis.”
“Don’t worry. I will.” As careful as someone who knows how much this is going to kill her in a few months.
No regrets, Carly. Never regret or take for granted every second you have with Gracin. They’re far too few and far too special.
A sad smile crept onto my face. It was easier said than done.
∞ ∞ ∞
The show took more out of Gracin than usual. He was downright surly afterwards. Fortunately, his dad had left shortly before it had ended to catch a plane to catch another plane to L.A. Gracin collapsed in his chair and leaned back, covering his eyes with his arms.
I gave him ten seconds of rest before yanking him to his feet.
“What the –”
“Come on.” I tugged him toward the door. Dragging a guy half a foot taller than me shouldn’t have been so hard in theory. I had inertia on my side, at least until Gracin dug his heels into the outdated shag carpeting to slow his momentum. It only made me try harder. “Seriously, we have to go.”
“Carly, I’m tired.” The normal energy Gracin had even after a show wasn’t there. He sounded eighty and ready to keel over. “Can’t this wait.”
“Nope. Now get moving, Grandpa, or we’re going to miss it.” I tugged his arm one more time for good measure, moving him a fraction of an inch. “Trust me.”
Gracin stopped fighting me. That was the first step. The next was to get him to walk a little faster. I didn’t let go of his arm as I rushed toward the stairs leading to the roof.
“Carly –”
“Trust me,“I reiterated as I pulled him behind me. Seriously, I thought he’d get the picture by now. It was the Fourth of July after all.
The loud boom echoed into the stairwell. I had to let go of Gracin and use both hands to pull open the access door to the roof. The metal creaked open, sending shudders down my skin in a creepy horror movie way. I reached back for Gracin’s hand and led him to the edge of the roof. It wasn’t ideal, but there wasn’t enough time to get from the theater to the water for the full view.
Another boom, followed by a burst of colorful lights exploding in a circle. Several small bangs with minuscule fireworks shot off in rapid fire, filling the air with the smell of gunpowder and the colors of the world. Gracin’s arms slid around my waist, pulling me flush against his chest. My eyes focused on the display exploding over the lake. We stood together, heads tilted skyward, bodies pressed into one until the grand finale.
I turned my head slightly to watch Gracin as the finale blasted a massive amount of fireworks in rapid succession. The colors reflected in his contacts, but there wasn’t anything fake about the wonder in his expression. His mouth opened in a silent “awe” as his cheeks lifted slightly. I knew Gracin had seen fireworks before, but I’d never been with him. It was like watching a little boy. When the last of the lights faded, Gracin met my stare. He leaned down and brushed his lips over mine, squeezing me closer against him.
“Thanks, Carly.” He kissed the tip of my nose. “I’m glad we didn’t miss it.”
“Me, too. I just wish I could’ve taken you down to the lake for a better view.”
He smiled and glanced around the night sky before settling his gaze back on me. “This is the best view in Branson.”
I spun around and pulled his face to mine. He was totally right. This was the best view in Branson. At least for this night.
After one of the best kisses of my life, with each one from Gracin fighting for the top spot, he pulled away. Exhaustion covered his face again. The exhilaration of the fireworks display had only delayed the inevitabl
e. Gracin needed to get some rest. I led him back to his dressing room, where he changed and I straightened a few scattered items with bated patience. We managed to leave without any crowd waiting outside the stage door. Usually one or two fans would wait him out to get pictures or an autograph or both. Gracin always complied with a smile and a nice word. Everyone must’ve rushed to the lake for the fireworks. Gracin leaned against me more than the normal boyfriend leaning against his girlfriend. It was pure fatigue.
“Gracin, why’re you so tired tonight?” I asked when I put the truck in drive. I still couldn’t believe he let me drive this beautiful monster.
His head rolled toward me against the headrest. “I haven’t slept much the last few nights.”
“I didn’t think you slept much at all,” I pointed out.
Gracin chuckled. “True, but when I do, it’s solid sleep. The last few nights … it hasn’t been solid.”
My fingers reached for him, caressing his hand. “What can I do?”
He didn’t say anything until I parked the truck in the spot by the cabin. I turned to face him as he stared at me. “Stay?” he asked.
I nodded.
His smile was spectacular as usual, but all too brief. He opened the door and climbed out. I followed behind him, texting Ivy for a cover and Dad that I wouldn’t be home. By the time I had everything arranged, Gracin had collapsed on the bed with his clothes on. I pulled off his shoes and jeans, pushing his legs to the left side. His eyelids twitched and his teeth ground against each other. Each breath huffed from his lips as if he ran a marathon. Whatever had been bothering him in his sleep wasn’t gone. I grabbed one of his t-shirts from his dresser and changed. The coolness of the sheets comforted me as I slipped in beside him. Gracin’s arm fell across my waist. He pulled me against him. I snuggled into his shoulder, letting his presence lull me toward sleep. Before I lost all consciousness, I noticed Gracin’s breathing had evened out. A smile broke across my face, and I allowed sleep to overtake me.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
We only managed a week without the illustrious Albert Ford. Whatever urgent business he had in L.A. didn’t last long enough in my opinion. Every time I saw Gracin’s father, it was one time too many. That was a lot of one time too many’s. The guy’s sleaziness multiplied by twelve every day. When I’d first met him, I thought we shared a common thread: the dislike of Gracin’s antics. Since I’d gotten to know the real Gracin, I realized how wrong I’d been and, therefore, so was his father.
Unfortunately, this brief weekend visit also meant I’d have less time with Gracin. That added another checkmark to the I-Hate-Albert-Ford checklist. Toss another one into the mix: Albert would be staying in Gracin’s cabin. The sad thing was Dad would’ve gladly comped Gracin’s father a room if the hotel wasn’t full. On top of that, Albert thought he deserved to sleep in the master bed. Gracin, who worked his ass off every night, was relegated to the single in the loft.
Gracin’s shoulders fell when his father knocked on the cabin door Friday morning. He stepped back to let him inside. Albert stopped when he saw me at the table where we’d just finished our after-run breakfast.
“What’re you doing here, Miss Reynolds? I doubt my son has need for your services at this hour.” He sneered as he emphasized “services.” What a dick.
I kept my carefully calculated professional façade. “Actually, he does. We were just discussing today’s agenda.”
“At seven in the morning?” Albert dropped his bags by the door. No doubt he expected Gracin to take care of them. Like I said, what a dick.
“Carly runs with me, Dad,” Gracin said. Exhaustion filled his voice, weighing down the words until they fell on Albert’s deaf ears.
“Well?” Albert directed his question to me.
“As Gracin just told you, we run together every morning and have breakfast afterward.” I kept up the increasingly tight smile. “And like I said, we discuss each day’s agenda. For example, Gracin had an interview with a journalism student at two today. I had to reschedule it after the new dancer requested time with Gracin to work on the show, since she missed two of her marks last night.” I paused, waiting for a tell from Albert and getting none. “Do you have any further questions, or shall I clean up from breakfast before I head home?”
If I learned anything in that moment, it was never to play poker with Albert.
“I’ll get the dishes, Carly,” Gracin said.
“No, son, let your assistant do it. I’m sure she’s quite …” Albert’s eyes roamed down to my chest for a beat too long, “domestic.”
I slammed my hands onto the tabletop and pushed myself to my feet. “Well, then. Let me get out of your hair.” I left the dirty dishes on the table. Fuck Albert. He could lick the grapefruit juice off the plates for all I cared. “Gracin, I’ll see you around noon.”
Gracin nodded and wouldn’t meet my stare. “At the theater.”
I gritted my teeth. That wasn’t the plan. We were supposed to go take a picnic lunch to one of the public beaches just north of town. “Of course.”
“Make it one, Miss Reynolds. I’d like to have lunch with my son.” His expressionless face made me want to shove my fist into it to see if it would bounce back.
I didn’t say anything, instead turning to Gracin who still kept his head down. He didn’t shrug, nod, or even bother to glance up with an apologetic look. Shaking my head, I strolled to the door, careful to stay far from Gracin. Not because I didn’t want Albert to think there was anything going on between me and his son, but because I really didn’t want to touch this Gracin. He was too much like a toddler around his father. Anger, and heartbreak, filled my gut as I left the cabin.
There was only one way to rid myself of these emotions. I needed a rush. After I climbed onto my scooter, I sent Nena and Ivy a text. Both had responded by the time I parked the scooter in the driveway. I smiled at their texts.
Time to do something stupid.
∞ ∞ ∞
“Are you sure you want to do this?” Nena asked as we parked on a bridge twenty minutes south of Branson.
“Yep.” I climbed out, preparing my mind for the adrenaline.
Thompson Bridge used to be a railroad bridge over Thompson Valley deep in the Ozarks. Needless to say, the Thompson family owned a lot of the land. The railroad had appeased them by naming the now defunct bridge in their honor. If they’d known what the bridge was being utilized for in the twenty-first century, I doubt they’d approve. Then again, the only photos of the Thompson family showed them all frowning, so maybe they would.
“Carly Reynolds, what brings you down yonder, darling?” Jesse Simmons asked as soon as he saw me strolling toward him.
“Oh, you know me, Jess. Just looking for a good rush.” I glanced at the harness in his hands and the parachute beside his feet. One of the best things about being an adrenaline junkie was the ease of access to the local businesses. Jesse and his brother, Mick, owned Simmon’s Jumps, a base and bungee company Mick had started when he’d finished college six years ago. Jesse had bought in when he’d finished his master’s in business last year. “Got time for me?”
“We’ve always got time for our best customer.” He held out the harness and pointed to the parachute. “Pick your poison.”
Bungee jumping would’ve been great, but I needed more control than that. Base jumping off a bridge into a valley definitely qualified as unsafe. Jesse and Mick had cleared the trees for a three-mile radius and built three large platforms, each with a giant X, on the ground. Each platform took in variants like wind and position of the jumper. They never let anyone jump who hadn’t taken their course at headquarters, where Mick’s wife ran the business. I’d taken it as soon I’d gotten my driver’s license, conning Mom into signing the permission form by telling her it was a science project. She’d never bothered to follow up on my excuse, but I had used it as an extra credit science report on how adrenaline affects the body at different altitudes.
I pointed to the p
arachute. “Who’s at the bottom? Mick?”
“Nate.” As if to prove his point, Jesse took his walkie from his belt. “Heya, Nate. Carly’s gonna be down soon. Look for her around three.”
Static filled the air for a second before Nate responded. “Roger that. I’ll be at two.”
I smiled. Nate was not the brightest star in the constellation, but he played his stupidity up. He’d heard Jesse.
Nena and Ivy stood off to the side, neither one saying a word as Jesse helped me into the parachute. Normally, I’d do something like this without them. They didn’t mind my need for speed if they controlled it, like on the boat or driving while I surfed on the hood of the car, but when it came to bungee jumping, base jumping, skydiving, or even propelling, they didn’t want to be around. Of course, they wanted to hear about it after the fact.
Jesse adjusted the straps, giving them hard tugs for good measure.
“Alright, Carly. Same drill. Stay on course. Get off course, get hurt.” He shoved the helmet on my head and slapped it twice after securing it. “Got it?”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. This ain’t my first rodeo, cowboy.” I smirked as Jesse rolled his eyes. He’d heard that from me too many times.
My heart sped up as soon as I moved to the edge of the bridge. I glanced down at the valley below, eyeing platform three. There was a slight breeze, but nothing I couldn’t handle. Hell, it’d probably feel great on the way down. The insufferable summer heat made B.O. a daily issue. I climbed over the railing and turned, careful not to let my hands or feet slip. Jesse grabbed my waist to keep me secure.
“Okay, Carly. Hold up your right hand, and I’ll put the chute in it.” I did as instructed, my heart pounding to the rhythm of a salsa song on fast forward. Jesse held me tight against the railing as he put the chute into the palm of my hand. “When I let go, jump.”
I nodded. An ocean filled my ears as the adrenaline rushed through my body. This was only the beginning. The fifteen-second jump would amplify everything. The wind would attack my skin instead of graze it. The trees would bend instead of sway. The clouds would race instead of drift. The entire world would speed to astronomical proportions in the time it took me to let go of the railing until my feet hit the platform.