Page 79 of The Upside of Falling
“I’ve got to give it to you, you handled your first jump way better than Stryder and I did,” Colby says, his parachute bundled up in his arms.
“She’s a fucking pro,” Stryder says once we reach the hangar, dropping his parachute to the ground.
“It was the absolute best moment of my life,” I say and then giggle, because well, because I just jumped out of a freakin’ plane. “Can I do it again one day?”
Stryder smiles and shakes his head, laughing at me, while Colby grabs me to him and kisses my forehead.
“Yes, Rory. We’ll do that again.”
And the happy dancing resumed. I wonder what it was like for him taking me? I’ll have to ask him later. Wonder if it turned him on, because with the adrenaline rushing through me, I want to mount the man.
Colby grips Stryder’s shoulder and says, “I’m going to go talk with Blake for a second. Keep my girl company.” Stryder nods as Colby bends and places a soft kiss against my lips. “I’m proud of you, Rory.”
I watch him walk away, enjoying how his harness frames his tight ass, his wide shoulders stretch his jumpsuit, and with his aviators falling over his eyes so I can no longer see them, he’s appears devastatingly untouchable.
Lucky for me, I’m the one person who gets to touch him.
“I’ll take you to the locker so you can get changed. I’m assuming you’re not going to want to wear that jumpsuit all day.”
I do a little curtsey and say, “Despite how beautiful I look in it, I would love to get changed.”
After giving me a once-over, a smile plays at Stryder’s lips as he walks me toward the lockers.
I know I shouldn’t.
I am quite aware that I should keep to myself, not voice Colby’s concerns, but I can’t help myself. Stryder is my friend too, and I can only imagine how hurt and upset he is about flight school. I worry that Colby is right and he is spiraling, and that is too hard to accept with this normally vibrant man.
“So, how’s everything going?” I ask, awkwardly. I might want to find out how he is, but I never said I’d be good at it.
As he walks next to me, the swish of his suit and jangling of his harness shaking with each strong step he takes, he says, “Fine.”
Hmm . . . one-worded, curt answer. It reminds me of when I first met Colby. These men must all be cut from the same cloth. If they fail, they internalize. Is that something they learn in military training? Compartmentalize? I guess it makes sense. But Stryder was never like that before he missed out on flight school.
“Would you tell me if you weren’t okay?”
That makes him stumble for a second, pausing in his pursuit to get to the locker. Turning toward me, he tilts his head, an unreadable expression on his face. Lips pressed together, silence falls between us, my question hanging in the air.
Finally, he shakes his head. “I wouldn’t.”
And that stings.
Walking forward, I catch up to him and pull on his arm. “Why not? Am I not your friend?”
“Not that kind of friend,” he answers without skipping a beat.
“What does that mean?”
Acting as if he didn’t just hurt my feelings, he nods toward the door that leads to the lockers. “Come on, Rory.”
“No, I want to know what you mean by that.”
Without looking at me, he says, “I barely talk to Colby about what’s going on in my fucked-up head, so I’m sure as shit not going to tell you.”
For some reason, his tone, the way I can feel his anguish through his words, causes me to back off and lightly say, “You know you could talk to me if you needed someone to unleash on. Colby is worried about you.”
Stryder’s shoulders slouch as he sighs. “I know he is.”
“He’s worried you’re mad at him.”
