Page 37 of The Upside of Falling
The air between us moves into something more sullen as he drops his head. And the minute he opens his mouth, I know why. “I’ll be sent away after graduation for flight school.”
Oh.
“To Peterson?” For some reason, I thought maybe Peterson Air Force Base, which is here in Colorado Springs, would be where he trained. That was probably a very naïve assumption, but then again, I know nothing about the Air Force.
He shrugs his shoulders. “Could be anywhere, it all depends on where they want to send me.”
“How long is flight school?”
“A year,” he says softly.
A year. That seems like so long.
When I met Colby, I never considered what life would be like after graduation for him. I knew something inside me was pulling me toward him, that there was a greater cosmic force pulling us together.
“Can you see why I was hesitant now? Why I’ve tried to reject this undeniable pull I have toward you? In a few months, my life will be out of my hands and at the mercy of the United States Air Force. I like you, Rory, but I want to be honest with you. I want you to know all the facts.”
Sadly, I say, “I can appreciate that.”
He sighs and wraps his arm around my shoulders. “Don’t worry, you don’t need to say anything. I get it. I really do.” He kisses the side of my head, his lips lingering, brushing against my cheek for a brief moment before pulling away.
He could possibly be gone for at least a year. And then who knows where he might be stationed, what he might be flying, if he will be deployed . . . or not? There are so many uncertainties when it comes to Colby. How did I not see that? I pushed myself into his life, fervent in my need to know who he was beneath the reticent, solitary façade. He warned me. Urged me to leave him alone, but I kept reaching. And now? Now I’ve found an incredible, intense, thoughtful, and gorgeous man, but he’s not really able to be mine.Even if he truly wanted me.And that’s terrifying.
And as much as I hate to admit it, I’m not sure it’s something I’m ready for. Because in some ways, it would be like New York all over again. Putting my life on hold, my choices taking a backseat . . . indefinitely. For Bryan it wasn’t really even a choice. But with Colby?He’s giving me a choice, and I’m not sure I have the strength for what choosing him would mean.We spend the next half hour sitting next to each other, huddled close, an understanding of what’s going to happen floating over our heads like a dark cloud ready to strike.
This isn’t going to work.Wecan’t work.
Tears form in my eyes and I snuggle even closer to him, his arm wrapped around me holding me in place. I allow the tears. I let them fall—staining my pants with sorrow—but stay silent. Once the sun truly sets, we carefully make our way back down the stairs and to the parking lot, our hands never unlocking, but our voices silent.I feel like I’m letting part of my heart die.
When we reach my car, Colby turns me and presses me against the driver’s side door. He grips my cheek and rubs away one of my wayward tears, his eyes softening, his grip on me tightening.
“Will you still write me?” He knows where this is going, and I feel so awful, as if I've teased him with something he could have and then took it away.
I bite my bottom lip and nod my head. “I will always write you, Colby.”
“Even when you find a man who can give you what you need?”
I nod, unable to find my voice, my throat so tight.
“Thank you.”
Searching my eyes, he looks between them right before he leans forward and takes my mouth in his again, this time more urgent. He presses my hips against the car, stealing my breath, his tongue locking with mine.
Moving in closer, our bodies become flush. He finds my legs, lifts me up, and pins me against the car. I wrap my legs around his waist—our mouths are now evenly matched—and I let go. For a brief second, I forget about the ball of regret and sorrow spinning in on itself inside my stomach. I ignore the death of something that’s consuming me. I forget about the anguish waiting for me at the end of this kiss.
Instead, I get lost. My mind focuses on him: on the way he hums against me, the press of his hardening cock against my pulsing center, the way his hands are so strong as they slide over my skin, the way he feels so damn perfect controlling my mouth, taking charge and leading the way with one of the most passionate kisses I’ve ever experienced.
When his mouth slows down, he presses his forehead against mine one last time before letting out a heavy breath and stepping away, lowering me carefully. Gripping both of my hands, he locks his eyes with mine, the weight of the world flashing through them. Guilt and sorrow eat me up, because his face is so sad, so defeated.
He squeezes my hands. “Take care, Rory. And if you ever need anything, don’t hesitate to ask.” Leaning forward he places one more soft kiss against my lips before backing up. My hand falls to my lips, the imprint of his mouth burning me.
“Colby,” I say on a gasp, stopping him in his pursuit to get into his truck. “I . . . I‘m sorry.”
He doesn’t turn to look at me when he says, “I know, Rory. But you have no reason to be sorry.”
“I pushed you. I pushed for this.”
Facing me now, he rubs his hand over the back of his neck and then looks at me. The look in his eyes—the anguish—guts me. “And because you pushed, I was able to experience one of the best nights of my life, with my arm wrapped around you, your heavenly scent calming my anxious nerves. It might not be forever, but in that moment, it felt like forever. Thank you for that.” Bowing his head, he turns away as a sob rips from my lips.
