Page 70 of The Upside of Falling
He gave my mom an Air Force blanket and my dad an Air Force T-shirt, looking unsure the entire time they opened them.So thoughtful.He gave Bryan a plane, and then spent time going into detail about it. Bryan didn’t say much, but when he picked up the plane and clutched it to his chest, I thought my heart was about to explode.
It was one of the best nights of my life. Saying goodbye to him that night was difficult. After we’d decked ourselves out in puffy jackets and winter hats, he pinned me against his truck, and then kissed me passionately under the softly falling snow, the moon and lights of my house creating a romantic ambiance.
I’d grown to know Colby as thoughtful and precise in everything he did, but that night, he showed unexpected compassion and love. It astounded me.
We spent New Year’s with Hardie, Joey, Stryder, and Ryan in my small apartment, chowing down on appetizers, drinking more than we should have, and playing games. Colby laughed, joked around with his friends, and loved on me so hard, keeping me in his embrace constantly. He seemed so happy. We made out in my bathroom, and then once everyone left, he explored every inch of my body.
And now I have to say goodbye to him.Again.
The cadet wing returns tomorrow, and Colby likes to get back to the dorms one day early so he can be prepared when the underclassmen return. It’s not like he’s leaving for another state, but I don’t get to see him during the week with his schedule, his jumps, and the studying he’s committed himself to every night. I get the weekends with him. And for now, that’s going to have to be enough.
It doesn’t help that when I arrived this morning to spend a little extra time with him, he was wearing his desert camo pants with his sand T-shirt tucked in tight, the fabric of the sleeves stretched by his thick biceps, and the light green belt pulled through the loops of his pants accentuating the V-shape of his stunning body.
It’s my first time seeing him in one of his uniforms, and it’s doing all kinds of things for me. I have to take a picture of him before I leave, because he’s so freaking hot right now.
Lying on the bed in the pool house, I watch him expertly fold his laundry, being anal retentive about every little piece of fabric out of place and making sure the ends are flush together.
“Do you do this every time you fold your laundry?” I ask.
Looking up at me, he gives me a curt nod and then returns his attention to the socks he’s clipping strands from. “As a firstie, I have to set a good example.”
Firstie. I learned that term recently. A senior in the academy is known as a firstie, because oddly, they count backward when referring to what class you’re in. So freshman are fourth years. It’s confusing, I know.
“And you have to clip the strings on your socks? That seems a little excessive, doesn’t it?”
“It’s how we do it,” he answers, his voice stern.
Okay, he’s been like this ever since I got here: cold, distant, closed off, giving me short and terse answers. It’s not making me feel very settled with him leaving for school, almost like he’s preparing to break things off, which seems absolutely crazy given the past two and a half weeks we’ve had together.
When I was working, he was working out and studying, but when I was free, we were together constantly. We watched movies, cuddled, played games, laughed and joked, and were at each other’s bodies whenever the mood struck, which was extremely often.The man is insatiable and has really impressive stamina.
But now, it’s like he’s creating distance, his heart preparing for any blow that might come his way. He’s barely looked at me, our conversations have been incredibly short, and he didn’t kiss me like he normally does when he first saw me.
I’m worried.
Sitting up on the bed, I cross my legs and try to be as strong as possible when I ask, “Are you going to break up with me?”
Even though the question puts a grapefruit-sized lump in my throat and sends my stomach into a spiraling pit of depression, I ask anyway. I’d rather know now than be dragged along the rest of the semester, expecting the worst.
He’s in the middle of folding another pair of socks when he stops mid roll and stares at me, his face pale, devoid of all color.
“What? No. Why would you ask that?”
“Because you’re being weird and distant and you leave soon. I don’t know, you’re just not being yourself, and it’s scaring me.”
Sighing, he tosses the socks on the bed and pushes his hand through his hair. “I’m sorry. It’s just . . . I’ve never had a girlfriend while at school. I’m fucking nervous you’re going to think weekends aren’t enough, that’s it’s not worth it. That I’m not worth it.” His voice trails off.
How could he possibly think he’s not worth it?
I think back to the conversation we had about his family, his mom and Ted, and what Ted did to him. The mental abuse, the doubt—the lies Ted instilled in Colby as such a young boy—and I realize it’s no surprise Colby doesn’t know how to navigate this.Us.It’s moments like this when I understand how deep the scars that Colby has carried around with him for years really are.
He can be so strong, so impeccably programmed to do everything right, and his caring soul shines through every day. But when it comes to matters of the heart, it’s like he lacks the confidence to hold anyone close.
Reaching for him from my position on the bed, I link his hand with mine and pull him down onto the mattress to sit right next to me. I want to be as close to him as possible, so I straddle him and make myself comfortable on his lap. Searching his eyes, I grip his cheeks trying with everything in me to show him how much he is worth my time.
“You’re worth it to me, Colby.” The words are on the tip of my tongue, those three little words that can alter a relationship from fun to forever. But it’s too soon, right?
And yet, I want to say them.
