Chapter Twenty-Nine. When You Feel like Flying
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
WHEN YOU FEEL LIKE FLYING
JAMES
Farren Walsh is kissing me. She’s kissing me back as I kiss her.
One moment I’m anticipating her answer to a long-wondered question—why does Farren really hate me? The next she’s in my arms. I had to take a moment to make sure this was real. As soon as she started to apologize, I took my chance.
I don’t want her to regret this for a moment because Farren kissing me is more than I could have ever imagined.
My hands are in her hair, like silk against my fingers.
When she wraps her arms around me, I mirror her and we’re hugging and kissing, and she’s pressed against me fully.
I can feel her heat like it’s mine, like it’s something to be shared.
The rolling landscape is in my favor tonight because Farren’s on a downward slope, eliminating our height difference. In fact, she’s reaching upward and I’m pulling her closer. One hand still rests against her jaw and into her hair while the other grips her waist.
A groan erupts from the back of my throat. In any other situation, I’d be embarrassed. But in this moment, all I feel is Farren. Farren gripping my shirt. Farren’s tongue deepening the kiss. Our kiss. This is ours.
I never thought I could possess such a moment, her returning this desire I’ve been carrying.
We break away to catch our breaths. Our chests rise and fall at the same time. Our foreheads rest together. “I could kiss you forever,” I whisper.
Her expression shifts on that last word. A frown. “We can’t … we can’t have forever though, can we?”
Within a sentence everything tips. “We can.” I don’t even know if I’m telling the truth. I just know the opposite sounds awful in a way I can’t bear to say aloud.
When she lightly shakes her head, I break. “Farren, please. I’m not asking to publicize this. I’m asking…” I try to gulp back my panic. “I’m okay being your secret.”
She takes a step back, a cleaving motion letting the cold air divide us. By the look on her face I’ve said the wrong thing. “All I have are secrets. And I’m not good at keeping them.” She bites her bottom lip. “Today, your dad saw me at the tournament.”
I don’t understand why this is upsetting. “He hired you as a spotter.”
“He saw me following you.”
“That doesn’t—”
“I could tell. He knew.”
“Walsh, my father is a callous jerk. If he gave you a look, that’s his expression every ten minutes.”
“But at the tournament I crafted Colm to me. Anyone could have seen, and they did. The recruiter, for one.”
“Recruiter?”
She takes a breath. “A recruiter approached me for a racing position at Revers.”
“He did? Mystery solved then.” I even laugh at the irony. “That’s why my father looked pissed. He needs his dragons to be the best at all times. You and Daphine stole the show with your flying. You stole my spot, and he’s furious.”
“She, actually, and it’s for an all-women’s league, so I didn’t steal your spot.”
I try to dissect her tone. Defensive. A little angry. “Even if it was my spot you can have it. If today was my last race, I’d be happy.” When that doesn’t help, I try to hold her hands. “I’m not mad.”
She pulls back farther. “But you’re not worried.”
Because greater than my fear is my desire for her.
For years I’ve been hoping Farren might feel half as much affection for me as I do her.
Now that she seems to, she’s talking about throwing it away, discarding our feelings like they mean nothing.
And after kissing Farren, I never want to go back.
I don’t think I can without being tormented for eternity.
I know what she tastes like. What she feels like molded against me.
“I’m trying to reassure you. No one knows. And if they did, I’ll say I’m teaching you bronze and silver. That’s the deal. Our deal.”
“And what of my side of the deal—to make sure you can stay here, to protect you? What if your dad learns you’re teaching me? I can’t risk you getting hurt either.” She grips my arm, the one once slung in a cast when I arrived on the sanctuary.
For the first time I let myself conjure my father’s reaction to me teaching Farren silver-crafting. It’s not great.
“You don’t understand how much … how I have to protect them.” Her voice quakes. “And anything between us creates risk of their discovery. We can’t have you returning home or your dad coming here.”
“We won’t let him.” The “how” escapes me, but I’ll wrestle up a solid plan later. Right now I just need Farren to be okay. I need her to see us as a possibility, to not reject us out of fear.
“There’s no guarantee,” she says.
“So you’d sacrifice any potential happiness for maybes and what-ifs?” This is the most vulnerable I’ve ever been with a person. It feels like I’m opening my chest. And the air is frigid.
“I’ve already sacrificed everything else.” Her voice is hollow.
My heart aches for her. She has, hasn’t she? Her ambition. Her status. Her friends. And it’s not done. There will be choices down the line she won’t be able to have, paths cut from her future. Right now, I’m one of them. She could probably get over me, too. In weeks, if not days.
While I’m ruined.
I hearken back to what Jeffrey said in that fabric shop.
Farren is not mean-spirited. The worst thing she’ll say is no.
Jeffrey was right in that first part. She’s beyond considerate, concerned for the world before herself.
He got that second part wrong though. No isn’t the worst thing.
Her kiss wasn’t a no. She’s saying, I can’t.
“Aren’t we allowed to be happy?” I ask into the bitter night.
“Not when the world is this ugly. Not when I know what they will do the moment they discover Nity. And I can’t let it be my fault. I’m sorry.”
Farren pulls away and runs back to the house, leaving me alone. Feyling dragons continue to light up the night in the most exquisite of colors. Beauty and happiness, mirrored in me minutes ago, has slipped from my fingers.
And now, I’ve never felt so numb.