Chapter 6
6
Spencer
Sutton
Spencer, where the hell are you?
House is empty
Twenty-four hours without a response
I know you haven’t been in town long enough to find some chick to shack up with
Swear to god if you took off and break Mom’s heart again, I’m going to kill you
Silas
Strong words coming from an officer of the law
Sutton
Do you know where he is?
Silas
Hell no. But maybe give him a chance to respond. It’s fucking six a.m.
Sutton
That’s what he gets for pulling this disappearing shit
AGAIN!!
Silas
And me? What the hell did I do to deserve this atrocious wake-up call?
Sutton
You were born last
Silas
Some of us need our beauty rest
Maybe if you owned a mirror…
Sutton
What’s that supposed to mean?
Me
He’s calling you ugly, Sutt
The corner of my lip curls in a semblance of a grin. Silas is right. It’s far too early for this shit, and I didn’t sleep much.
Every time my eyes would close, she’d appear in my dreams, and I’d jolt awake.
I can’t get her hauntingly beautiful face out of my head. Add in those tear-streaked cheeks and watery eyes, and my sleep was fucked.
I have no right to comfort her heartbreak, let alone even look in her direction, but after last night, I wanted nothing more than to take her in my arms and usher her gently into sleep.
Fortunately, she had enough alcohol to accomplish that without me stepping over that invisible line.
Sutton
You’re a dick, Silas
Silas
angel emoji
Sutton
Where are you, Spencer?
I should have known my elopement to an island wouldn’t escape my nosy brothers’ notice.
Me
I’m out of town for a few days
I’ll be back
Sutton
I’m holding you to that. Next time, give me a heads-up, yeah?
Me
Sorry
A wave of nausea hits suddenly. I haven’t seen banter like this since I lost Lucas. Fuck, I miss that guy. He was my best friend over the last ten years, and just like that, he was gone.
Pushing my head back into the cushion, I throw a forearm over my face and close my eyes.
I’m doing this for you, buddy, I think with a note of sarcasm.
Living life. Facing fears. Correcting past wrongs. It all feels like the right thing to do when you escape death.
My stomach cramps again with the weight of fresh grief. At least it feels fresh. It’s been eight months, and when it hits, it’s like I’m transported back to that hospital bed where our boss told me he was gone.
The wall slides open behind me, rocketing me back to the present.
“Good morning,” Cortney chirps.
Fuck me. She’s wearing itty-bitty jean shorts with a simple white tee that hugs every curve of her torso. I try not to stare at her tan legs as she walks out into the fresh air.
“Sleep well?” I ask.
“It was heavenly. There’s something glorious about waking up in a comfortable bed and knowing I don’t have any responsibilities waiting for me. Here. This is for you.” She offers me a white to-go cup, the ring on her finger sparkling in the morning sun.
“Thanks.” I groan and straighten on the lounge chair.
Her brow furrows. “Did you get up extra early or something?”
“I slept out here.” I pop the lid. A wisp of steam rises in front of my face, delivering the scent of fresh black coffee.
Cortney pauses her cup halfway to her mouth. “You slept out here?”
“Yeah,” I mumble around the rim. The coffee is exactly how I like it. Black and so hot it’s on the verge of scalding.
“You don’t have to sleep outside. I know I wasn’t exactly accommodating with you yesterday, but I’m okay with you being here.”
“It was probably the most enjoyable sleep I’ve had in a while,” I lie.
Sleeping outdoors wasn’t the issue.
No, sleeping anywhere near Cortney is the issue.
“I won’t put up a fight, but I can be an adult and share the bed. It is a king.”
“I’m fine out here.”
She shuffles closer. “You can’t be comfortable out here. These loungers are hardly padded.”
“I’m used to roughing it.” I tip back my cup again, chasing the words with a long drink.
“Seriously, Spence. I don’t even snore anymore. I got my deviated septum fixed when I was twenty.”
I have to bite my lip to keep from smiling. “That’s good to hear. Why are you up so early this morning?” I execute a swift subject change. There was exactly one time in our lives that we spent the entire night together, and her cute little snore has been ingrained in that memory since then.
“We’re going zip-lining.”
My mouth opens and closes. “Excuse me?”
Cortney hits me with a devastating smile. “It’s a couples excursion.”
“That’s today?”
“Yep.”
“When do we leave?”
She peeks at her phone. “In about twenty minutes.”
Without a word, I toss back the rest of my coffee and rise from the lounger. My back aches in places I didn’t even know could hurt, and I’m pretty sure I limp on my way back into the room.
Fuck, I’m getting old. I’m surprised nothing pops or cracks.
“Spencer? Are you okay?”
No, I’m not okay. I slept like shit, and I hate heights. But there’s not a damn chance in hell I’m sending her off alone.
Until this week is over, I’m going to spend every second soaking up Cortney that I can.
“Give me five, and I’ll be ready to go.”
* * *
The hotel provided a direct shuttle from the resort to the zip line company. We traveled with three other couples for the half-day excursion. With my white long-sleeved shirt and the black neck gaiter covering my scars, I look like I’m headed for a ski trip or a bank robbery rather than a day soaring over the jungle.
The stares of the other passengers are heavy. I’m sure they wonder why the fuck I’m wearing all of this. Minding one’s business is a universal flaw, and I’m bound to be stared at, whether I’m in Minnesota, on a plane, or Timbuktu.
“I’m so excited!” Cortney claps as we disembark. “Aren’t you excited?”
My gaze travels the height of the platforms strung with cables in the distance.
“Thrilled.”
We visit a welcome center and participate in a short safety demonstration. Afterward, we’re joined by staff who prepare us for the plunge.
Cortney’s smile doesn’t leave her face for a second. We’re about to throw ourselves off a several-hundred-foot-high platform, and this is the calmest she’s been since I boarded her plane. She’s either an adrenaline junkie or slightly insane.
Maybe both , my lips quirk.
Some guy’s rigging my balls into the safety harness when Cortney taps my shoulder.
“Take a picture of me.”
I dig my phone out of my pocket before she can hand me hers. If I happen to survive this, I want my own image to revisit once this trip is over.
She smiles broadly, cocking her hip. For the second pose, she gives me a thumbs-up.
“Let me get the two of you.” A woman I recognize from the shuttle here offers.
“Oh, that’s okay,” Cortney declines.
As I open my mouth to answer, the staff member gives the strap around my sack a hearty tug. I grunt and fight the pained expression on my face. “Okay.”
Cortney slides up to my side, and I hand off my phone.
I lift my arm, draping it over her shoulders. She stands stiff beside me, her hands limp at her sides.
“Get closer,” the lady instructs.
“Um, Spence?” Cortney whispers.
I tip my chin to my chest, catching her concerned eyes. “Yeah?”
“I don’t know where to touch you. I don’t want to hurt you anywhere.” She’s still whispering, looking at me with such intensity that my chest hurts. The concern painted across her beautiful features sends a pang to my gut.
Reaching between us, I lift her hand and press her palm flat against my abdomen. The warmth of her hand feels like a brand, seeping through the thin layer of nylon separating our skin. “Here is good.”
She smiles, relaxing into our new position. We turn to the camera at the same time.
“So cute. You guys are a great-looking couple. Almost done. Look at that ring sparkle!” Our novice photographer snaps off what I can only assume is an excessive array.
“Thanks,” I say, pocketing my phone again.
The group splits into four, each setting off for a different platform behind two guides. The only thing separating me from the ground and soaring above the jungle is about a hundred steps.
“Ready?” Cortney nudges my side somewhere around the fourth landing. My lungs cinch tighter the higher the climb becomes.
“I have to know. Was this your idea or the ex’s?” We ascend the next flight of stairs, and I grip the railing tighter.
Fuck, this is high.
Don’t look down, dumbass.
Cortney laughs. “Oh, totally mine. Sebastian only had fun when I planned something for us, and even then, he complained most of the time. This was all my idea.”
“So you’re saying there’s no way I can talk you out of this?”
“Hell no. And you’re coming along with me.” She pats the back of my helmet. “ Husband. ”
“Well, wife, what if I’m feeling a bit nauseous all of a sudden?”
“Are you?”
She looks so concerned I don’t have the heart to actually bail. I swallow the thick saliva in my mouth and ignore my pounding heart.
“Nah.” I chuckle lightly. “I’m just playing around.”
Only two flights of stairs to go.
“I don’t know. I think you’re scared.”
It’s my turn to knock on her helmet. “I don’t get scared.”
“Great! That means you can go first.”
Sweat begins collecting in my palms. “Sorry?”
I don’t realize I stopped walking until Cortney wraps her long fingers around my wrist and tugs me up the final steps. “Yeah. If I go first, I think there’s at least a fifty-fifty chance you chicken out.”
I plant my fists on my hips. “Maybe you’re the one who’s scared.”
The words sound weak.
“I’m not the one who has anything to prove.” There’s a challenge in her eyes that I refuse to back down from.
“Fuck. Fine. I’ll go first.”
“We have a volunteer!” the staff member to my left announces to the group.
Cortney’s giggle reveals her well-timed setup.
Goddamn this woman.
She doesn’t realize I wouldn’t do this for anyone else. Not another soul on this godforsaken planet.
But I’d do anything for her.
The short man wearing a tan fishing hat waves me forward, and within minutes, I’m strapped onto a half-mile-long cable that’s about to ferry me across the fucking jungle.
The harness digs uncomfortably into my ass, and the strip crossed over my right shoulder cuts into my scars. I bite back a wince as I lean back.
The guide hands me a pair of thick leather gloves that remind me of the chopper mitts we used to wear in the winter as kids. I yank them on.
“Are you ready?” the guide asks with an excited grin.
No. Hell no. Fuck me sideways, what did I get myself into ?
My tongue sticks to the roof of my mouth. The inside of the gloves grow wet with sweat.
“Yep,” I grunt.
“He needs a kiss goodbye before he goes.” The guide looks pointedly at Cortney. Our fake rings are doing the heavy lifting to convince people we’re supposed to be a couple. Now that we’ve checked-in, the charade is over, but I refuse to take mine off until she does.
I expect Cortney to decline. Come up with an excuse like I’m her brother or something, but she shocks the shit out of me as she skips closer.
Sitting in this harness, our eyes are level as she approaches on the platform. The coconut scent of her shampoo washes over me. She leans closer, and I keep my hands overhead, gripping the line for dear life when all I want to do right now is reach out and hold her.
“Good luck,” she murmurs, her eyes flicking briefly to my lips.
I swipe my tongue across the lower one. “Thanks.”
“Meet you at the bottom?”
“I’ll be waiting.”
Her warm, soft hands carefully cup my cheeks. The feel of her velvet skin lightly holding my scarred face sends an electric jolt through my system.
She’s the first person to willingly touch my damaged skin who wasn’t on my medical team.
And she doesn’t even flinch.
“Bye, Spence.”
The freckles across her nose appear darker than my memories. She presses a swift kiss to my cheek, then moves back into the safe zone.
My heart leaps against my ribs.
I inhale.
Exhale.
Then step off the platform.
Gravity rips me through the air. A shout, straight from my stomach, flies out to be lost in the wind above the trees. I soar above canopies of green. As I race along the line, I take in as much of the rolling island hills as I can. The bird’s-eye vantage is something I refuse to waste now that I’m flying.
I lean back in the harness, letting go of the line, and a carefree laugh bursts free. The sound is rusty as if it’s been kept locked behind an iron cage.
“Holy fuck,” I say to myself, leaning back to enjoy the journey above the treetops.
Much too soon, the lower platform comes into view, signaling the end of the ride.
I can’t believe I just fucking did that. I disembark with a heaving chest and racing heart.
Waiting at the bottom for Cortney feels like a fucking eternity. People zip to a stop on the adjacent platforms, one after the next. I hear the buzz of the trolley on the cable. The screams and bursts of laughter are just audible.
Then she appears.
It’s like my heart stops in my chest, my breath holds in my lungs, nothing in or out as I wait. The small figure grows bigger, and her joyful screams ring out.
But it’s the blinding smile on her face the last couple of feet that cracks open my chest and rips the organs straight out.
I forgot.
I forgot what it was like to have Cortney look at me like that. Her face radiates pure happiness, and her smile is so damn infectious I find a matching one stretching my mouth.
I never thought I’d get to see her look at me like that ever again and suddenly, I’m not forty-one-year-old Spencer who lost his best friend and burned a quarter of his body in a work accident.
I’m eighteen, and Cortney Powell just bullied me into going to senior prom, and she’s laughing while I twirl her to some stupid love song in our school’s old converted gym.
And that is a very, very bad thing.
“We did it!” She kicks her feet and throws her arms out wide as the guide helps drag her onto the safety of the platform.
“How was it?” I can’t disguise the grittiness in my voice.
“It was amazing! And you didn’t die!”
“Neither did you.”
“Thank god. You’d be so lonely here without me.” She joins me and nudges my shoulder with hers.
We descend the steps together. A quiet covers us. The chirping birds and rustling leaves accompany our footsteps.
At the bottom, she turns to me, fingers digging into the strap beneath her chin.
“I think my helmet is stuck.”
“Here, let me.”
She drops her hands, and I replace them with mine.
“Tilt your chin.” Focusing on my task rather than the long, slender expanse of her neck takes all my willpower. The buckle clicks. “Got it.”
I draw the helmet down the back of her head.
“Thanks.”
She turns at the sound of another couple descending behind us. The wind blows her black hair across her neck. There’s something there. A dark smudge peeks out behind her ear.
“I think the buckle got something on—” I reach forward.
“It’s nothing.” She turns abruptly and rubs the spot with her fingers.
I tilt my head. “What is it?”
Tension draws her shoulders taut. “It’s a stupid mistake I made.”
“You have a tattoo.”
“Why is that your first guess?”
“What other stupid mistakes do people have on them that they don’t want someone to see?”
She rolls her eyes and stomps off toward the equipment drop.
“C’mon, Kitten. Spill your little secret.” We both know I’m goading her. The question is if she’ll give in or put up a fight.
The two men unstrapping us prevent her from running away. She lifts her fingers to the mark again. Her lips move with her silent confession.
“Speak up, sweetheart. I can’t hear you.” I smirk as I peel the harness straps off my chest and step out, knowing her eyes are glued to my every move.
“Sebastian and I got matching tattoos!”
Well, shit.
I was hoping for a drunken bachelorette party. Not something to do with her fucking ex.
“Let me see.”
“I don’t think so.” She hops out of her harness. Before she can flee, my fingers wrap tightly around her elbow.
While murmuring, I draw her closer. “Just a little peek.”
Tucked neatly behind her ear is a fine-line design. A pair of dice with black dots indicating the numbers one and two on them.
“What do they mean?”
“It was supposed to be our wedding date.”
“You were meant to get married January second?”
She sighs. “June twelfth. I have the twelve, and his dice has a six.”
“You said you met at your vet clinic, not Vegas. Why the dice?”
She grimaces. “Because we were lucky to find each other?”
I scrunch my nose at her. “Mistakes were made, Kitten. That’s okay. It’s an easy place to hide a tattoo. Where did he put his?”
“It’s over his left pec.”
“Now that’s a mistake.” I laugh.
“It’s big too. I don’t know what the hell he was thinking if he was just going to cheat on me, but I consider it his karma until he covers it up or lasers it off.”
“Serves him right. He’s going to look at that tattoo every single day in the shower and regret what he did to you.”
“You can’t possibly know that.” Her fingers rake through her hair as she fixes her ponytail.
Yes, I can , I want to tell her.
Because every time I look in the mirror, that’s exactly how I feel.