Love, Redefined: A Contemporary Romance Novel (Love Lessons Book 1)

by Brynn North

  I took a bite and almost swooned. It was incredible. “Where did you get them?” Wherever it was, I had to make it a regular stop on my weekends. Boston was right, my granola was boring compared to these.

  He shrugged one shoulder. “It’s my secret recipe. I started them last night. Yes, Kitty Kat, I’m full of surprises,” he answered the look on my face.

  “Wonders will never cease.” I took another bite, amazed that he baked, too. “But you didn’t answer my question. Don’t you think people need to compromise to be in a relationship?”

  He gave a little half-shrug. “I guess. Or just be truthful about what you want and see if the other person’s ideals align.”

  Yeah. I thought I did that, and they did align until they didn’t. What were you supposed to do about it then?

  I sighed in frustration.

  “Oh really? Tell me more.” Boston looked intrigued, and my stomach dropped

  “I said that out loud?” I yelped.

  He took another bite. “Indeed, you did. You seem to have a habit of that, you know. And you have my full attention.” He flashed me the shit-eating grin I remembered so well from my teenage years. And from the grocery store earlier.

  I blew out my breath before answering. “The night Shane dumped me, I thought it was the night we would finally get engaged,” I admitted, using the shortest answer possible. “Instead he said after all these years, we had different goals.” It was still too difficult for me to give the full explanation of what those goals really were, and it was none of his business, anyway.

  “Well, everyone has the right to the future they want, no? Like, I wouldn’t want to be with someone who insisted on moving away to, say, Russia, away from everyone I know and with no family around. Or what if they developed a major gambling problem. Can’t agree on kids. Drug use. Then we wouldn’t be compatible.”

  I pushed the last bite of my cinnamon roll around the plate with my fork. “Yeah, I guess so. It’s just hard. You aren’t mourning only the person, but the things you planned to do in life. The person you were planning on becoming. It's like life got put in a blender and mixed up.” Wow. I couldn’t believe I just admitted that out loud.

  Just when I wanted to crawl in a hole and die of embarrassment, Boston reached over and squeezed the top of my hand. The warmth went up my hand and into my chest. “He doesn’t know what he’s missing.”

  Tears welled up at his sincere tone. Boston was being so nice and proved yet again there would be yet another man I wouldn’t be good enough for. That there would always be another man who wanted what I couldn’t give him. Not wanting to burst into tears in front of my high school nemesis, I blinked furiously.

  “So what in the hell are we doing here anyway, having a heart to heart?” I joked to lighten the mood. “Shouldn’t I be reserving that for Vi?”

  “Yeah, well, she asked if I’d take over this weekend. Told me she needed a little time to Google some more material so she can advise you,” he joked back. “I think she said she was onto chapter four of ‘How to Prevent Your Best Friend from Humiliating Herself in Front of Her Ex.’ That chapter is particularly good, it’s about changing the best friend’s phone’s password.”

  I giggled at the thought. “Ha! Well, she doesn’t have much to worry about. I’m working on ‘hobbies’ next. I’ll be improving myself so much she won’t know what hit her. I’ll be un-recog-niz-able.” I drew out the last word slowly.

  “Oh, yeah?” He asked casually, getting up to clear the plates. “Like what?”

  I wasn’t quite sure yet and told him as such. “Maybe painting classes? Wine tasting?”

  “Really? You’re going to pick those as your hobbies?”

  “And what’s wrong with them?” I gave him a little defensive look. I had spent an hour researching local things to do.

  He cleared his throat and held up his champagne glass in the air like he was about to make a toast. “‘When life itself seems lunatic, who knows where madness lies? Perhaps to be too practical is madness. To surrender dreams — this may be madness. Too much sanity may be madness — and maddest of all: to see life as it is, and not as it should be!’”

  “Don Quixote,” we finished together. Him a little triumphant, me a little defeated.

  “So, Kitty Kat, don’t do some boring activity. Do something fun, new, exciting.” He tilted his head toward me. Damn it. I wished he was ugly or something. Would make this whole exchange so much easier. “Something…impractical.”

  “I get your point,” I grumbled in agreement. Being sassy wasn’t about Googling the first cooking or painting class I saw and signing up. “I get it. And I will.”

  He gave me a sly smile. “Well, if you truly mean it, let’s go do something. Right now.” He reached for his phone and tapped out a quick text message to someone. Apparently liking the response he got, he nodded at the phone.

  “Right now?” I yelped. “Like what?”

  “Something fun that I know’ll take you right out of that comfort zone you like to be in. But you’ll be fine.”

  “How do you know?” Did Boston know something that I didn’t? Despite myself, I was intrigued by his insight on me.

  He flashed that smile, the one I recognized as his shit-eating grin. “Cuz Kat’s have nine lives. And you got plenty left. Grab your shoes, let’s go. ”

  17

  “You’re kidding me. I am not doing this. I’m afraid of heights.” I sat still in his car seat, hands gripping the seatbelt like it might save me from the situation in front of me.

  Boston grinned at my reaction. “You saying it doesn’t look fun? Gliding over the river and forests?”

  My eyes were still bugging out too hard to answer at first. We had driven forty-five minutes outside of Minneapolis to a small airport of all places, and when we pulled up, I saw a little airplane sitting next to a white hangar. Boston had happily pointed out that they were supposedly called “sailplanes.”

  “What’s a sailplane? And I’m supposed to sit in that tiny thing? Where are the propellers?” I demanded answers from Boston faster than he could provide them. None of this seemed like a good idea at all.

  “There aren’t any,” he said as if that was a proper explanation. “Come on, let’s go look.” He climbed out of the car, and without waiting for me, headed toward the hangar. With every last ounce of courage I had, I opened the passenger door and followed him.

  To my surprise, once we got into the hangar, Boston gave the waiting man a handshake and hearty slap on the back.

  “This the friend you texted me to say you were bringing this weekend?” The older man’s easy-going smile helped put my racing nerves at ease, at least somewhat. Surely a man that looked and sounded like Morgan Freeman wouldn’t let me die this way, right?

  “This weekend?” I echoed in question.

  “Yup. Boston comes out here almost every weekend to fly these planes. When the weather’s good, that is. Been doing it now, for what, six or seven years?”

  “Even more if you count the years I did it in college,” Boston grinned. “Kat here has never been but wants to be more adventurous. Ready to go, Kitty Kat?”

  I was not ready to go, but I followed him to the plane anyway, figuring I may as well look at what he proposed to be the vehicle to my death. “How do you get up in the air without propellers?”

  “Dale will hoist us up with his plane, attached by a rope,” he nodded to a small plane to the left of us, “then let us loose. Think of it as a human kite in a way.” Like that was reassuring.

  “And you know how to work all this stuff inside?” I looked at the controls in front of us, weighing my options. On one hand, I could stay down here and watch, scrolling through my phone while Boston and Dale did cool things. On the other hand, I could grit my teeth, and keep my promise to myself to be more adventurous.

  Boston gave me a solemn nod. “Scout’s honor.”

  “You were never a Boy Scout,” I pointed out, circling the plane once more. “No pl
ans to kill us?” I still wasn’t quite sure about this.

  He stroked the top of the white glider plane like it was a beloved pet. “I’ve been up in one of these hundreds of times. Got my license years ago. Do you trust me, Kitty Kat? Remember who taught you and Vi how to skateboard? And how to cheat through calculus so you would actually pass?”

  Usually, when he used the name Kitty Kat, he said it in a joking way that raised my hackles a little, but this time he said it in a steady tone, looking me in the eye. Suddenly, my nerves, which had been racing, calmed down by a small percentage. I did trust him. Sure, Boston had been annoying and had irritated me more times in my life than I could count, but he had never given me a reason to not trust him. I glanced around the plane.

  “Like a kite you say?”

  He gave a little half-shrug and smiled. I could tell he sensed he was winning. “Kinda.”

  Against my better judgment, half an hour, and a bunch of forms and safety tips later, I was wearing a helmet and seated behind Boston with Dale in the plane in front of us. The two planes were connected via tow rope that Dale would release once we reached the right altitude. My heart was pounding. If I was going to pick a way to surprise everyone with my reinvented attitude, I better get an A-plus for this effort. A double A-plus. Hell, a triple if there was such a thing.

  Boston must have sensed my nerves because he reached behind him to squeeze my hand. My heart jumped at the intimate gesture and was almost disappointed when he let go to put his hands on the control.

  “Don’t worry, I won’t let anything happen to you,” he yelled over the noise of Dale taking off, and I gripped the side of the seat so hard that I thought I’d rip chunks straight off it.

  Sailplaning, if that was even the correct term, turned out to be more amazing than I had ever imagined. Once I got over the initial fear when Dale let us loose and Boston took over, to my surprise, I ended up loving it. It was almost meditative, I mused, being up there with only the clouds for company, and the world beneath our feet. My mind was peaceful in a way that no yoga class had ever made me feel. From above the earth, all my problems seemed so small, and I began to see why Boston loved it so much.

  And it was clear he did love it. Even though we couldn’t talk, his body language showed me he was enjoying every minute amongst the clouds. Boston glided us through the air, pointing down at things like the river, farmland, and even a couple of dogs chasing each other in someone’s backyard. We flew in silence, unable to talk. Though at first, I thought I’d be terrified, unable to tell him if I was about to die, it almost seemed better this way, I thought as I studied him from behind. Seeing his face light up as he pointed at a cluster of cows beneath us made me smile, and it struck me that even though he loved being a sailplane pilot, he was getting more joy out of showing me around. He was doing this for me, not just to show me a new hobby. He truly wanted me to see the world in a new way and to try new things.

  I studied him further as he expertly handled the controls, even though I knew I should be looking at the scenery below me. I noticed how his dark hair curled, just a little, under his helmet, and how his shoulders were strong, broad, and in control of the plane, which set me at ease. Of all things, I never expected Boston to grow up to be a pilot. That wasn’t exactly an easy hobby. It took intelligence, hours of dedication, and a trustworthy personality. Not to mention the skills of a salesman to get me up in this thing. I hated rollercoasters and any thrill rides, dreading the free fall and feeling of unease instead of getting an adrenaline rush. Just the idea that I was up in the air with no parachute, hell, no engine even, gave me a sudden feeling I could do anything. The thought alone gave me a boost of excitement. I was almost disappointed when Boston pointed to the ground, showing it was time for us to descend. I could be up there forever with him, in peace, watching the world beneath our feet.

  Suddenly, as he brought the plane lower and lower to the ground, my fear of heights kicked in and I started gripping my seatbelt so hard my fists ached. My stomach was in turmoil, and all the breakfast food he had cooked us started churning in my stomach. I tried to calm my stomach as much as possible as Boston brought us to a smooth landing. The moment Dale walked over to help us out, I bolted out of the plane as fast as possible and looked for the most private place I could find in the ten seconds I knew I had. Racing for the shrubs, I started throwing up everything I had eaten that morning, complete with retching noises.

  Ohhhhh noooo, I thought to myself, hoping against hope that by some miracle, Boston hadn’t noticed that the end to the fabulous sailplane ride ended with me in the bushes.

  My hope was dashed the second Boston raced over to unstrap my helmet and put his arm around me to hold me up. I collapsed gratefully onto his warm chest as he held me close, still lightheaded. Dale was behind him a minute later with a bottle of water and some ginger chews to calm my stomach.

  “Don’t worry, you won’t be the first to get sick and won’t be the last either,” Dale assured me as I took a grateful swig of water to clean my mouth. Boston still had his arm around my waist, looking worried I might faint or something. His arm tightened as he held me steady, and I leaned into it even further.

  I was humiliated.

  “Thank you, Dale. I had a lot of fun, it was just so new to me,” I said truthfully, once I recovered, before turning toward Boston. “But you owe me. You took one of my nine lives.”

  Boston just laughed.

  “That was incredible, Boston. You fly every weekend?”

  “Not every weekend.” He grinned at me from the driver’s side. With his hair all disheveled, he looked like he could be on the cover of Men’s Vogue. “Just most, when the weather is good. And I happened to be going this weekend and happened to see you, and Dale happened to say it’s okay if I brought you, so it all worked out to scare the pants off you.”

  “Well, I’m glad you did,” I said before settling into the passenger seat and resting my head against the back. I was feeling very mellow after the gliding and exhilaration, as well as the rest time that Dale insisted I take before we got back into the car for the ride back to the city. Luckily, Boston didn’t take it the wrong way or try to fill the silence. Hanging out with him was easy, which I appreciated.

  “Need me to drop you off?” Boston asked, breaking the comfortable silence as we headed toward the exit. He was driving along casually with one hand on the wheel, the other tapping to the beat of a song by The Killers.

  “I left my groceries at your house,” I said apologetically. He had spent enough time showing me a good day, I felt bad inconveniencing him further.

  “No worries at all.” He swung his car to the street that would take him to his place and not Vi’s.

  Once there, I grabbed my Target bags and hesitated. I had the best day, despite throwing up in the airport bushes, and wasn’t exactly sure how to convey it. I stood by his dining table awkwardly.

  “Thanks for the wonderful day,” I started out, then I got distracted. From where I was standing, I could see inside his home office. In it was a shelf with some statues, surrounded by plaques. “What’s that?” I asked, nodding toward the shelf.

  He barely glanced over. “Oh, Vi made me put those things up. Just some stuff, like my diploma. Says hanging it up brings good juju or some crap like that.”

  “Can I look?” I asked, even though I had already put my bags back down and was already heading toward the office.

  Wow. I blinked rapidly. Boston was far more talented than he let on. He had graduated from college summa cum laude and went on to graduate school. According to the awards on the shelf, he had been named Reporter of the Year, won editing awards, and even worked for a local food shelf. Next to that was a bookshelf, crammed with tons of books, and a charging Kindle. I picked up an obviously well-read copy of Don Quixote.

  He gave it a little smile. “My favorite. Made me want to become a writer.”

  The thought stunned me. That’s exactly why I loved it so much too, though, with al
l the awards here, it was obvious he took his dream further than I did. “Boston, I had no idea you did all this! What’s next, the Pulitzer?”

  “Yeah, well, need to level up out of TC Media first for that one.” He seemed embarrassed, racking his hand through his dark hair. “Maybe one day.”

  “It’ll happen by the looks of it.” I continued to look until he shooed me away.

  “Yeah, that’s just stuff. Doing my job and all. Like I said, Vi insisted, so she came by and hung it up. Getting those things gets my mom off my back for not going to dental school like her.” Though he was being modest, he secretly seemed pleased I noticed.

  “Need a ride home?” he asked, changing the subject away from his accomplishments.

  “I’ll walk.” It’d only take me ten minutes. Fresh air would do me good after getting sick.

  “Okay.” He walked toward the front door and opened it for me. As I walked past the arch, he said, “Hey, I’m really proud of you, by the way. You’re fun.”

  He leaned close to me, close enough that I could smell his cologne. It was sweet with a little citrus. Chills ran up my spine, and I caught my breath. Was Boston going to kiss me?

  The thought terrified me, but at the same time, thrilled me. What would it be like to kiss a different man after ten years? What would it be like to kiss Boston, of all people? All those thoughts shot out of my mind as he got even closer. I swallowed and my breath quickened. I lifted my hand to his shoulder, reducing the space between us. As if by magnetic attraction, I tilted my head up, and…he brushed his lips across my cheek before straightening back up.

  “Stay safe,” he said.

  My face burned so red with embarrassment that I bolted out the door without answering. This had to be one of the most humiliating moments of my life, with the puking in the bushes not too far behind. What did I think? That Boston would actually want to kiss me? That would be ridiculous. Inappropriate to both Vi and Shane, at best. I shook the thoughts out of my head as I walked down the sidewalk, trying to think of puppies, kitties, Dr. Dre, anything to distract me from my humiliation.