“What are you afraid of?”
“Dying!” she said, like duh. “Falling out of the sky!”
I shook my head. “You do know that the odds of dying in a car accident are much, much higher, right?”
“That’s different.” She sniffed. “I have control in the car. And even if I’m not the driver, at least I know what all the noises and bumps are.”
“What happens when you want to go somewhere you can’t drive to?”
She sighed. “That is a problem. Because I do want to go places like that—Paris. Florence. Madrid…” Her head tilted to one side. “Maybe I’ll take a boat.”
I laughed. “That’s a long boat ride. Can’t you just get over your fear long enough to get on a plane and take a sleeping pill or something?”
“I don’t know. Maybe someday.” Her cheeks flushed slightly. “You probably think it’s silly to be so afraid of something.”
I shrugged. “Not necessarily.”
“What are you afraid of?”
Not wanting to leave here tonight. “Nothing, really.”
“I knew it. You’re a thrill seeker, huh? I bet you love rollercoasters.”
“Uh huh.” I swallowed the bite in my mouth. “But not as much as skydiving.”
“Skydiving!” she shrieked. “You mean you have purposely jumped out of a perfectly good plane?”
“Many times. Nothing like it.”
She looked at me like I was nuts. “What’s so great about it?”
“The way it makes you feel. Totally free. Like you could do anything. No limits.”
She shook her head slowly. “You’re brave. I could never. I’m too afraid of falling, always have been.”
I liked it that she called me brave. I liked it that she thought I was good with my hands. I liked the way it felt to sit at her kitchen table and share a meal and talk.
I liked it so much that I began to be afraid of falling too.
But later, she asked if I wanted to stay.
And I said yes.
Eighteen
Claire
* * *
It was better than my fantasies, falling asleep next to Theo. The sheets were sweatier and my hair was messier, but I’d had way, way more orgasms, and he was hotter than any man I could have dreamed up. Taller, stronger, dirtier. More handsome, more fun, more complicated.
I still had no idea what had made him come back here tonight, but I was scared that asking him would break the spell. I need you, he’d said. What had he meant? Just sex, or something more?
He was an enigma—so open and generous with his body but so closed off when it came to anything personal. I was amazed that he’d shared a few personal details with me tonight. I ran through the list of things I’d learned—last name, quit drinking six years ago, had a pilot license but wasn’t a pilot, had a carpentry business on the side, liked skydiving. And last night, he’d mentioned that he was raised by his late grandmother. Parents had both taken off. He had a brother who struggled to stay put, a sister-in-law, and three nieces he played tea party with.
And he fucks like a rockstar.
It was an intriguing picture, but it wasn’t very complete. Like a painting with random details drawn here and there, maybe even some color, but other parts of the canvas left blank.
I had no idea how to complete the sketch, no experience getting a man who guarded himself so closely to open up, no way to know how this would play out. All I had were more questions. Who was he, really?
“Theo?”
“Hm?”
“What were you like as a kid?”
He groaned. “More questions?”
“Sorry, sorry.” I kissed his chest. “I was just lying here trying to picture you.”
“I was a typical kid.”
“What did you like to do?”
“Ride my bike. Throw rocks. Make fun of girls.”
I poked him in the side. “Tell me about one nice childhood memory from when you were small.”
It took him a long time to think of one. “There was a tire swing in our yard when I was little. When I wanted to escape my house, I used to like playing on it.”
“We had a tire swing up north at the cabin,” I said excitedly. “It’s still there, actually.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah.” I laughed. “You probably won’t be surprised to learn I was scared of it at first.”
“Of the tire swing? Why?
“Because it was just a rope tied to this skinny old branch. I always thought it would snap.”
“Even if it did, you’d only fall a couple feet.”
“What can I say? I’m delicate.”
“Uh, I beg to differ.”
I poked him in the side again and then snuggled closer. “Why’d you want to escape your house?”
He shifted, as if he was uncomfortable. “I don’t know. Just didn’t like being cooped up, I guess. I still don’t.”
That made sense. He liked his privacy and his freedom.
One thing I knew for sure was that I couldn’t pressure him, couldn’t make demands, couldn’t set limitations or conditions. And honestly, I didn’t really want to. He’d told me as soon as he walked in the door he didn’t know where this could go, and it had taken me all of three seconds to realize I was OK with that. Even if all he had to offer was orgasms and conversation right now, I’d go with it. I’d be patient.