Page 12 of The Upside of Falling
“Have you always wanted to be a pilot, or is that something you found out about yourself while studying there?”
“Always.” From the very beginning.
She’s silent for a moment, playing with her pretzel stick between her fingers. “You’re living to achieve your dreams. That’s . . . that’s incredible. I’m sort of jealous.” When I don’t say anything, she presses on. “Ever since I can remember, I wanted to be a ballet dancer. I wanted to be center stage, all eyes on me, the spotlight highlighting my arabesque. I worked my ass off, paid for lessons by cleaning the studio after hours, and when I was accepted into The School of American Ballet”—she shakes her head—“I thought I’d truly made it, that I was one step closer to achieving my dreams.”
Her voice trails off, hurt and anger lacing her words.
“What happened?” I ask, wanting to know why this determined girl next to me couldn’t be the ballet dancer she set out to be.
“Sometimes life throws you a curveball and you have to find a way to deal with it. So now I’m a group fitness instructor and a massage therapist part-time. I enjoy massage therapy and hope to have my own business at some point, but it wasn’t my first choice, you know?” Turning toward me, she continues, “You’re lucky, being able to pursue what holds such a heavy influence on your heart. There aren’t many people like you, Colby.”
I want to ask her what the curveball was, what flipped her world upside down and held her back from going after her dreams, but I restrain. If she wanted me to know, she would have said something. Plus, a part of me knows if she did tell me, I’d have one hell of a time keeping this girl at arm’s length.
Hell, I can already feel my cold exterior starting to melt.
Poking me with her pretzel stick, she says, “Now that you’re a little warmed up, think I can ask you some more questions and get more than a yes or a no from you?”
Tamping down the smirk eagerly pulling at my lips, I turn toward her and lean against the stairway rail behind me, crossing my arms over my chest, making eye contact with her for the first time since we’d been out on the deck.
“Can’t promise I’ll answer them, but I’ll give it a try.”
Lighting up, she turns toward me as well, crossing her legs and looking far too peppy to be having a conversation with such a closed-off guy.
Rubbing her hands together, looking too fucking adorable, her smile bright and addicting, she says, “I’m not going to go easy, but I’ll give you a few easy warm-ups first. Are you ready?”
Resting my head against the pole behind me, I say, “Ready as I’ll ever be.”
Pausing, she leans forward, her hand burning a heated path up my leg when she presses her palm to my knee. Whispering, as if she’s trying to keep a secret between us, she says, “For the record, your voice, when you actually speak, it’s incredibly sexy.”
A crimson blush stains her cheeks. I can only see it from the light streaming through the windows, which casts just enough glow for me to notice. Why didshehave to be here tonight? Beautiful Rory with her sweetness and light. God knows I’ve stayed away from relationships in the last three years, understanding that staying focused on my dream was the only way to survive. But this girl? This girl is challenging my necessary solitude. She's challenging the wall around my heart and soul, and I need to ensure she isn't successful in breaching it.
Clearing her throat and straightening up, trying to hide the fact that she just rocked my foundation with her confession, she asks, “Colby, what’s your last name?”
Okay, I didn’t think she was going to ask that kind of easy question. Chuckling, the sound foreign to me, I say, “Brooks.”
Obnoxiously, she fans her face with her hand despite the chilly November air. “Oh my God, a laugh to go with the voice. Lord Jesus, save me from embarrassing myself.”
Keeping my gaze fixed on hers, not saying a word, I take her in like I would one of my fourth-class cadets—the newbies.The Air Force thrives on being unconventional.I observe, find her weakness, ready to pounce . . . but she doesn’t even skip a beat. Mycadet officerlook barely makes a blip on her radar.
“Colby Brooks. That’s a good name. Since you want to be a pilot, do you have a call sign?”
“Nah.” I shake my head carefully against the pole. “You get that when you’re in flight school.”
“Oh, that makes sense. Do you have a name you want to be called? Maybe something like . . .” She twists her lips to the side, trying to think of a name. Oh fuck, this is going to be good. “Hmm . . . something like . . . Cheese.”
“Cheese?” Why the hell did she come up with that?
“Yeah, you know, like Colby-Jack Cheese.” A slow, wicked grin spreads across her face.
“Cheese is out of the question.”
“Oh really, can you choose?”
“No, not really.”
“So then Cheese is an option . . .”
Rolling my eyes, I say, “Technically yes, but it’s not going to be Cheese.”
