Page 11 of The Upside of Falling
Expecting to see his taillights fading in the distance, I walk out the front of the house and run right into him, sitting on the front steps, head bowed forward, hands clasped in front of him.
Either he didn’t hear me or decides not to acknowledge me, but he doesn’t bother to turn around, so I take the initiative to sit next to him.
“Water?” I ask, holding it in front of him.
When he takes it, our hands brush against each other, his fingers lingering briefly across my knuckles, shooting a bolt of electricity straight up my arm.This man.
Not saying anything, I direct the open bag of pretzels to him. He eyes it, pausing before pulling a pretzel stick out of the bag. He doesn’t eat it immediately. Instead, he twists and flips it between his fingers.
Sitting in silence, we both stare into the black abyss of the mountains in front of us, my eyes playing tricks on me as I think I see things running back and forth between the trees. The chill of the night starts to set in, my exposed shoulders feeling the cold, but I stay put, not moving, not eating, not saying one single word, letting the silence hang between us.
The quiet dangles in the air, the faint noise of the party behind us providing a dull beat to the night. And just when I think we might be silent for the whole night, Colby surprises me when he says, “Why are you out here?”
Feeling comfortable, I take a bite of my pretzel and say, “You intrigue me.”
“There’s nothing intriguing about me, you’re wasting your time.”
“You think so?” I shake my head. Either he has no idea how appealing he is, or he truly doesn’t give a shit what other people think of him. He must attract female attention wherever he goes, so I doubt he’s self-conscious. The man is gorgeous.But is he broken? Wounded?I can’t let it go. I should. I should move on to the other guy who seemed interested earlier, but my heart won’t allow me to. Iwantto reach this man. So I go with brutal honesty. “I happen to disagree. Because despite how hard you’re trying to ignore me, don’t think I didn’t catch you staring at my ass when I bent over the pool table. Don’t think I didn’t catch your eyes lingering on the way my hair draped over my shoulder when I stood next to you, and don’t for one second think I didn’t catch the small smirks you couldn’t hold back when you were talking to me.
“There’s a guy I’m interested in talking to behind this closed-off veneer of yours, and if I have to sit out here in the cold waiting to meet him, then I will.
“Ryan’s my ride, and from the look of it back there, she won’t be leaving anytime soon. Face it, cadet, you’re stuck with me.”
Chapter Five
COLBY
Shit.
Shit, shit,SHIT.
This is exactly why I wanted to stay home. I wanted to avoid any kind of distraction, and despite my best efforts, I can’t seem to keep myself in check around Rory.
She caught me in the act, checking her out, observing her every movement from the way she bent at the waist to find her shot, to the way her hair caressed the green felt of the pool table, and the way her slender and delicate hands held such a powerful punch with the pool stick.
And then there’s the way she tilts her head back slightly when she laughs. The way she licks her lips right before she’s about to shoot. The way she tucks her long brown hair behind her ear when she’s nervous and doesn’t know what to say.
Instead of observing the small intricacies of a complete stranger, a fucking gorgeous stranger, I should be back home, head buried in my book with one goal in mind: making it out of here, out of Colorado Springs, and starting a new life, the life I’vealwaysdreamed of.
But she’s persistent, and with every little question she asks in that calming, smooth voice, I feel my guarded walls breaking down.
“Can I ask you a question?”
My immediate response is to say no, but since I don’t have the heart to be a total dick, I keep my mouth shut. She’ll take that as a yes.
I’m proven right when she asks me, “When did you know you wanted to be in the Air Force?”
Taking a sip from my water, I cap the bottle off and set it to the side, freeing my hands so I can lean back on the porch, my hands pressing into the solid wood behind me.
“I can’t remember a time I didn’t want to be in the Air Force,” I answer honestly.
“What are you majoring in?”
“Aeronautical Engineering.”
“What does that mean? Do you want to become a pilot?”
“Yes.” That one word means so much more than what it stands for. Yes, I want to be a pilot. I dream of being a pilot. I want nothing more than to spend my life piloting the highest-performing, highly maneuverable, stealth fighting machine, the F-22 Raptor, while the world passes by me at Mach speed. I’ve had the smallest of tastes of what it could be like at the academy, and it’s only fed my addiction.
