Page 13 of The Upside of Falling
“So you think.” She wiggles her eyebrows at me. “Just you wait. Once you go off to flight school, I’m going to send the higher-ups a handwritten note, letting them know I think Cheese is the perfect call sign for you. Bet you no one else will be called Cheese in the skies.”
“And there’s a reason for that.”
Shaking her finger at me, so damn playful, she continues, “Just you wait, once the higher-ups get that letter—”
“I’ll be shocked if the ‘higher-ups’”—I use air quotes—“take note of letters from civilians.”
“They will when I spray the paper with perfume. Something you should remember, Colby. It’s the little things that grab people’s attention.”
“Noted. What’s your next question?”
Scooting in closer, her knees skim my propped-up leg, and her feminine scent drifts closer and closer to me with every light breeze. “Looks like someone is really starting to loosen up. It’s a good thing because this next question is a real doozy. Are you ready for it?”
I should say no. I should turn away now, because with every word that falls out of her mouth, I find myself feeding off her, becoming enamored with her personality. How can I not, the way she’s so effortlessly taken on my gloomy and almost harsh personality? It’s as if she doesn’t see me that way. She seems to see a different side of me, a side I don’t think I’ve ever let myself experience.
For good reason.
Maybe because I’m feeling the effects of the beer from earlier—since I never drink, especially at a higher altitude—or because I’m fucking tired of putting up a protective front, I give in to Rory’s demands, give in to hergame. I lower my shield, but my armor is rusted and not used to being pushed out of place.Does she see how hard this is for me?
One night. That’s all this will be.Canbe.One night of letting go, of indulging, of allowing myself some leniency from the strict plan I’ve held myself accountable to.
Only one night where I allow myself to take one long, deep breath.
Nodding at her, I say, “Hit me, next question.”
Chapter Six
RORY
That smirk, those soulful eyes, the way his voice feels like a warm blanket protecting me from the outside world. He’s dangerous. He’s the man you’re warned about when growing up. The man who can make or break you, flipping your world upside down without even realizing it.
The kind of man who comes around once in a lifetime.
The man you don’t let go.
Gearing up for my next question, I rub my arms trying to warm myself up. I might be wearing a sweater, but the top half of my body is exposed, and when I look at Colby to ask my next question, his brow is pinching, his eyes focused on my hands rubbing up and down my arms.
“Are you cold?”
“Uh, just a little, but I’ll get used to it.”
Not saying a word, he stands from his sitting position and holds out his hand for me to take. “Oh no, I’m okay. Really.”
“You’re cold.”
“I’ll be fine. I don’t want our conversation to end.”
“Who said anything about it ending? Take my hand.” The command falls from his lips with ease, and I hear the future commanding officer in the depth and no-arguments-accepted tone. Good God, it’s hot.
Not one to argue, I take his hand, and like the way he helps me to my feet before pulling me into the house. Rather than letting go, he guides me through throngs of people who have gathered in the great room, now playing a drinking game.
Colby takes me to the stairs that lead to the second floor, and my heart leaps into my chest for a second before he turns me around and says, “There’s a balcony I spotted. It’s private, and I’m sure we can find a blanket in the room if you’re okay with that?”That’s a serious question? Am I okay with that? Yes, Colby Brooks, I am absolutely okay with that.
“I’m more than okay with that.”
Privacy. Balcony. Blanket. All words I like to hear come out of his mouth. Not sure where we’re going, I let Colby lead the way, peering into random rooms until he finds the one he wants. He switches the light on, illuminating the open space, which I assume is the master with its sprawling fireplace and en suite bathroom. The bed in the center of the room is huge, decorated in white and green bedding with a yellow blanket at the foot of the bed.
Picking up the blanket, he opens the sliding glass door to the balcony and pulls me to the cozy outdoor loveseat that overlooks the woods. Below us, the party goes on, the pool table occupied by Stryder and Ryan still, and even though we can hear the party, it’s not as loud, offering us a little peace.
