Burning Through Gravity

by Addison Moore

  “No.” Evilyn swallows down the words you twat wad—we are after all in mixed company—those verbal love pats are just for home. “Not you and Jener. You and Stephanie are going to wrestle.”

  Who the hell does she think she is? Do I look like some show pony she can just push into a puddle of gelatinous carbs whenever she feels the need? Wouldn’t she just like to see me get slopped up in front of Ford.

  “I’m sorry, but I didn’t realize it was bring your bathing suit to work day.” I try to control my underlying rage. “I’m afraid I’m out.” I manufacture a smile just for the handsome man standing by my side.

  “Oh, I’ll go in with my clothes.” Bella volunteers, and I cringe.

  “Looks like we’ve got at least one team player.” Evelyn pats Bella on the head. “But you won’t have to, we have plenty of bathing suits to go around.” She leans into me. “I think you’re just not giving this internship your all. Dr. Bennett called on Friday and said you didn’t miss a single day of class this week.” She twists her lips. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were avoiding me. And here we were just starting to be good friends.” She leans in and whispers, “What’s the matter, Stevie? Are you suddenly allergic to cats?”

  Kinsley emits a low-lying growl. Clearly Evilyn has just unleashed my sister’s inner psycho—and, with Kins, she didn’t have far to go. This is going to get ugly fast if I don’t get things under control. What would Claire do? She’d probably defuse the situation by telling some lame joke then politely asking where the nearest dressing room was. Of course, I’d be cheering her on. Hoping to high heaven she’d kick some blue Jell-O ass of the Evil variety.

  Ford steps between us. “You don’t have to.” His eyes pierce through me like flames, and I pause from my boiling rage to swoon a moment. Every inch of me craves to touch him. My mouth demands to bond with his. Those are my lips, my hands, my body he’s lending to all the wrong people. How could he take Evilyn—the rat-faced giraffe, out to lunch each day? Doesn’t he know he belongs to me?

  I hate this confusion, and I hate that my stupidity got the ball rolling in this heartbreaking direction.

  “You’re right, I don’t have to.” I sidestep him and press my finger into Evilyn’s chest. “I want to.” I give her a quick jab as she stumbles backward, her mouth gaping wide as if I’ve just pulled out a 45 and blew a hole through her left tit. “You know why I want to, Evilyn?” That’s right, I said it. “Because I am a team player. Now get the darn bathing suit. I’m going in.” I roar it into her mouth like I’m going in for a kiss, and she flails and spins. Her foot catches on an errant hose, and she falls face first into the jiggling makeshift pond.

  “Holy, holy!” I cup my mouth.

  God, she fell in! She fell in, and I didn’t even mean for that to happen! Gah! She’s going to think I planned this—that I plotted this out like some maniacal Jell-O mastermind. My internship is done, and now I’ll never get to take over Jinx like I wanted—correction, my father wanted. What exactly is it that I want?

  Evilyn rises from the muck like the creature from the black lagoon—or, in this case, blue.

  “You!” She lets out a blood-curdling roar, and all festivities cease around us. “You get in here right this fucking minute.”

  “No…no,” I stammer, backing away. This is not where this day is going. I was just about to morph into Claire and tell a lame joke and ask for a bathing suit. I look to Ford in a panic. “I swear I didn’t plan this.”

  His eyes press into mine, sad and elated all at once.

  Kinsley pushes me toward the glibbery mess before he can respond.

  “What are you doing?” I scream, trying to stop the momentum she’s induced on my five-inch heels.

  “If your boss says get in there, that’s exactly what you’d better do.” She leans in and whispers. “Kick some Wicked Witch ass.” Kinsley sends me into the blue pool of Jell-O with an unceremonious belly flop—or more to the point jelly flop.

  Crap. I thrash my way to my feet, losing both shoes in the process. Kinsley owes me a new pair of Pradas when this day is through. Not that they were mine to begin with, I sort of siphoned her discards since we’re blessed with the same shoe size. Okay, so I’m a half-size up, but cute shoes are worth a few crooked toes.

  I stagger my way toward Evilyn’s slimy, panting body. She’s horrible and treacherous and deserves to have her lungs filled to the brim with this gelatinous blue confection. I hop onto her hips, forcing her to sink to her knees. We reduce ourselves to shrieks and hair pulling, and, before I know it, we’re both submerged, writhing over one another like we’re about to take this wrestling match to a whole other level.

  “I hate you!” She shrills through the air pockets. It’s easy enough to breathe down here, after all—too bad.

  “Well, I hate you!” I twist until she’s pinned beneath me with all four limbs. “And why the hell would you hate me?” I gurgle the last few words as a piece of Jell-O slithers down my windpipe, threatening to end my life. Surprisingly, I like blue Jell-O, and now my stomach is growling because I forgot to eat breakfast. I press my mouth over her ear. “I gave you Ford on a silver platter.”

  Her body goes rigid. Her muscles contract, but Evelyn doesn’t move. Then, in a fit of resurgence, she catapults me in the air and jackknifes over my body, knocking the air from my lungs and sinks me back to the bottom. She jumps up and down victoriously as the crowd goes wild, and a bell goes off making her victory complete.

  “It looks like it’s interns zero and chief executives one!” Jener burps it out through a megaphone.

  Crap. It takes all my effort to stand and stagger to the side where Kinsley and Aspen help free me from this murky prison. Evilyn is carted off to who knows where, flanked with every female employee in the vicinity.

  “Well, if that didn’t boost employee-intern relations I don’t know what will.” I try to dust the sticky mess off my body, but it’s no use.

  Ford and Carter head over, and I cringe.

  “Kill me,” I whisper as my blue feet slap down over the sizzling concrete. “Does my hair look good?”

  “Oh, sweetie.” Aspen wrinkles her nose, pushing my wet tresses behind my ear.

  “Stephanie.” Ford says my name with a pained look on his face. His hands are stuffed into his pockets, and he’s rocking on his heels as if he’s unsure what to make of what just happened.

  God, he’s going to evict me from my internship right here in front of Kinsley and Aspen, and now Lincoln will be damn unhappy he missed the show. I should have known nothing good would come from friends and family day. I can just imagine my father’s reaction when he hears of how it all went down. I’ll no longer be the black sheep of the family. I’ll be the blue sheep.

  “How about I help you get cleaned up?” Ford’s eyes smile for him as he extends a hand. “I’ll take you home.”

  Aspen hands me my purse, and I walk off with Ford, barefoot, without so much as a goodbye. Screw Evilyn and her ridiculous boundaries. Screw trying to hack my way into my father’s heart with an ice pick. I just want to follow Ford and those beautiful, ironically Jell-O blue eyes wherever the hell they lead me.

  And I do.

  Ford lands me next to him in his silver Range Rover with its tan—soon to be Smurf—interior and drives us straight to the beach. Our beach. Shipwrecks.

  He parks in the driveway of his brother’s house and leads me around the back to the pristine white beach where my toes happily sink into the warm sand. The ocean is a demanding shade of cerulean as the whitewash coils onto the shore, curling its fingers, trying to lure us inside. Ford must think the same thing because he sweeps me off my feet and races us toward the waterline.

  “Don’t you dare!” I scream so loud it comes out indistinguishable. His feet thump against the damp sand like a barrel drum, slow and steady, and for the briefest moment I’m transported back to those carefree days before the internship, before I ever knew a witch like Evelyn existed. We’re back
again, under a dragon’s blood sky getting ready to make wishes, to make love.

  Ford wades us into the water, his chest heaving in and out of breath.

  “Should we go in slow or dive in quick and get it over with?” His hair is dotted with silver beads as the marine layer boils over the sand.

  “Why do I get the feeling whatever I say you’re going to do the opposite?” My panting ceases long enough for me to examine him like this with a wide, toothy smile, those resplendent dimples that he has to work to show off.

  “Pick one and you’ll see.”

  “I want to dive back in.”

  He squints into me, the smile sloping off his face. “Sometimes diving into things is the best way to do it.”

  I meant us, but he seizes the moment, and I pinch my nose just as we go under. The heat of the day melts off my body right along with the sticky syrup, and I take advantage of the moment by tangling my limbs around his, combing my fingers through his soft as silk hair. The ocean spits us out onto the shore, and I’m lying on top of him with my legs pinned beneath his back.

  The water sizzles and retracts as it races back to the sea.

  Ford buries his gaze in mine and clasps his hand onto the back of my neck as if he’s about to demand a kiss. If he does, I won’t deny him. I don’t have the strength to deny him a sigh if he asked for it.

  “You are so damn beautiful.” He whispers right over my lips.

  “You make it sound like an insult.”

  “Believe me”—he rolls me onto my back and presses my hands above my head—“it’s anything but.”

  “I see you’re pinning me properly.” I glance up at his hands fettered over my wrists. I stop shy of mentioning Evilyn and her-less-than-spectacular techniques. “I could have taken you in that blue pool.”

  “I would have liked to have seen it.” He loosens his grip, and I clasp my fingers over his to keep him from moving.

  “Who told you to let go?”

  “I’m not letting go, Stevie.” He drills his gaze into mine. “I’m never letting go of you no matter how hard you try to push me away. I’m here. I’m all yours whether you want me or not. I’ve already slid my heart across the table. I’m just hoping you’ll take it.”

  A cold wave crashes over us, honest as a slap.

  “Why do I get the feeling you willed that to happen?” His chest rumbles with a laugh as the water glides back from where it came. “You put on quite a show earlier.”

  “You think she’ll keep me around for kicks?” I make a face because we both know she has the power to end my internship at the flick of her wand.

  “I think she’ll keep you around because you’re a bright intern who I would love to see grow within the company.” He touches a finger to my lips, and the birds stop midflight, the plane overhead pauses above the ocean, the world seems to halt when he looks at me this way. Ford has the ability to make me feel like I’m all that exists. As if everything else dissolves around me, and it’s just the two of us. “Besides,” it comes from him hoarse—“I’m sort of hoping to teach you the ropes myself one day. Come June, you’ll have a job waiting for you.” He glides his thumb over my cheek, looking down at me with an affection in his eyes that I’ve never experienced. “It’s yours if you want it.”

  “Really?” I hike up on my elbows nearly head-butting him in the process. “I’ve never held down a corporate job before, not unless you count the Orange Julius at the mall, but that lasted two weeks, summer after tenth grade, and they let me go.” I shrink a little. “I may have tasted a customer’s drink after she complained it was too sweet and told her it was fine. Not my brightest moment.”

  “Lucky for us both, there’s nothing for you to sip at Jinx. We’re strictly interested in world domination.” He pulls us higher up on the beach and slides me into his lap.

  “Nothing to sip huh?” I twist into him. “Evilyn has a drink.”

  “Evil-lyn.” His chest bounces, taking me for the ride right along with him. “It never gets old. I suppose she earned that nickname. And, yes, she has a drink, doesn’t she?” He shakes his head and peppers me with water from his hair. “Sorry if she’s making you miserable. I think she might be onto how I feel about you. Her guard is up.”

  Oh, she knows all about us I want to say. Or at least she thinks she does.

  “Her guard should be up.” I run my finger down his wet shirt and stop just shy of his belt. “How are things going between the two of you?” I bear hard into his eyes. Here it is. If he says he hates her yellow, coffee-colored guts, I’ll confess to how I feel, and we can have a real From Here to Eternity moment on the beach.

  Ford presses right back with a twinge of sadness as if he’s just as lost at sea as I am, and we can’t seem to navigate this relationship back to port where it belongs.

  “It went well.” His smile fades, the light leaves his eyes. “Evelyn and I are doing well.”

  And there it is.

  I guess Evelyn wins both in and out of the Jell-O.

  His arms tighten around my waist, and his chest expands. He’s saying something with his eyes.

  I call bullshit. Evelyn and Ford are not doing well. I think he’s trying to turn the tables. At least I hope he is. Let’s see if I can’t turn them right back where they belong—with the Jinx fur ball in my court.

  At the end of this fiasco, I want Ford and Jinx. I’m just too stupid to realize I can’t have both.

  Claire would have known better. She would be rolling in her grave if she could see me now, if she had a grave—if my mother hadn’t reduced her to ashes. I look out to the steely Pacific, lick the salt on my lips and taste Claire. In the mother of all ironies, she’s right here with us, on us. This was her final resting place, and now she’s coating us like a glaze. She would have handled everything better.

  Claire should have been the one to live.

  She would have loved Ford the right way. He would never be taking anyone else to lunch. He certainly wouldn’t be lying about how well their relationship was going.

  Nope.

  The wrong twin died, and now everybody has to pay.

  Ford

  We let ourselves into the beach house. I left my wallet and keys in the car. Stevie left her purse. Lucky for us, all were present and accounted for when we got back. That’s the thing about Shipwrecks, it’s about the only place on earth you can feel safe. I ride my eyes over Stevie’s perfect body as she hops on the couch, wearing one of Cash’s old T-shirts like a dress. I feel safe with Stevie. That’s funny, I can’t remember a single person I’ve felt safe with since my father. My mother was never into coddling. Her parenting technique was more the chew-you-up-and-spit-you-out brand of tough love. Then she remarried, and she and Carson Senior were too busy adding to the family to notice Carter and me. By the time Carson and Cash came along, I felt like I was already on my own. And then she left.

  “What’s on your mind?” Stevie fans her long, tan legs over the couch, and my dick pinches. I threw on Cash’s shorts and an old Misfits shirt I bought him at a concert once.

  “My family, mostly my dad.” I head over with two cups of coffee and set them down before gliding in next to her. She sits up, and I slip my arm around her shoulder, friendly but enough to let her know I’m all in for more. I wish I never let her believe that Evelyn and I stood a chance. I should have never led us down this demented path. Carter is always right, and, yet, I never choose to listen. “What’s on your mind?”

  “I was thinking about Claire.” She rests her head on my shoulder, and it feels like we’re finally home—as if we were on some extraordinarily long, exhausting journey and we finally found our way back to one another. “Claire and I used to come to Shipwrecks.”

  “Really?” This beach house was the go-to locale for all our family summer vacations once Mom remarried. Carson and Cash’s grandmother gifted it to them just before she died. Then Carson lost it in a bet, and I paid twice what it was worth to get it back. Gave it to Cash one year for hi
s birthday. “Did you rent a beach house?” My fingers comb through her hair. I remember a lot of the girls that roamed these shores, but not a single one of them was as beautiful as Stevie. But then, I guess she would have been much younger than the girls I was trolling.

  “Rent a beach house? Are you kidding?” She looks up, laughing with her hand gliding across my chest. “We were just this side of destitute. My mother made sure to keep us as far away from my father’s money as possible. Top Ramen was a five star meal. No, we didn’t rent anything at Shipwrecks.” Her hand slinks up my shirt and scratches my stomach before she plucks her fingers out like retracting them from a meat grinder. “Ooh, sorry.”

  “I’m not.” I drop a quick kiss onto the top of her head, and she doesn’t bolt or slap me, so I take it as a good sign. My entire body swells with relief.

  She lays her head over my chest again. “My grandmother used to bring us—just my sister and me. She would pack a lunch, crazy things like melon kabobs, and all of the locals would ask where we got them. I think we started a trend because we would see them now and again and laugh.”

  “I remember those.” I pull back and inspect her features. “So you’re the one that started the melon craze. You sponsored lots of sword fights. I almost lost an eye once, no thanks to Carter and his crappy aim. They were delicious by the way.” I give her shoulder a quick squeeze. “So what does your father do?”