Break My Fall (No Limits) (13 page)

“Beer…what?”

“Beer-shakes. Milkshakes with beer in them. Now that I know I can drink without screwing up a baby, it’s on.”

“That sounds disgusting,” I said. “
But I don’t have a fake ID, anyway.” I figured that was enough to get me out of trying what sounded like a terrible concoction.

She waved me off. “I’ll buy two and bring them
to the seats. Nobody’s gonna know. Trust me, this wouldn’t be the first time someone did that.”

I had nothing else to
do. It was Saturday night, I still hadn’t heard from Drew, and I needed a distraction, so I decided to go.

Rebecca pulled off the beer-shake caper and brought me a Guinness caramel flavored one. It wasn’t as
disgusting as it sounded, it was actually pretty good, especially since it cooled me down. It was a hot evening at the end of July, the humidity made me feel sticky all over, and mosquitoes took advantage of the complete lack of a breeze to launch a full-scale attack on the stadium.

Kyle had brought two friends along. One of them was loud and obnoxious, the other was quiet like Kyle, and the cutest of them all—he looked like he belonged in an Abercrombie & Fitch catalog, wearing cargo shorts and an open button-down shirt with nothing underneath, showing off abs that were so perfectly etched
they almost looked fake.

I couldn’t have cared less about the baseball game, so a
side from talking with Rebecca, I spent most of the night thinking about Drew. I must have checked my phone fifty times, even when there was no text alert.

The one time my phone did chime, I grabbed it so quickly
I almost slung it into the row of seats in front of us.

It was Liz, asking whether I had talked to Drew. I texted her back and told her I hadn’t, and that he was obviously ignoring me. She wrote back, telling me to find him, go where he usually hangs out, don’t give up.

I had seen Drew on the beach and in the store, and we had eaten at the Banana Cabana the day he bailed me out of jail, but other than that I had no idea where he spent his time.

But I knew where he lived.

.  .  .  .  .

The next morning, I decided that I was no longer going to wait for him to get in touch with me. I was going to find him, corner him, a
nd demand that he talk to me or at least hear me out. I didn’t care how desperate it made me look. I just wanted to clear this up and apologize. Whatever he decided to do after that was up to him. I had no control over it.

As soon as I left my apartment and got to my car, I thought maybe I should check with his grandmother first.
As I was about to knock, she walked past the glass storm door. She was holding an old-fashioned water can, the kind with the big looping handle and long spout. She saw me and waved me in.

“Good morning.” She always had the same reliable and genuine smile for me. “I’m just giving the plants something to drink. How are you?”

“I’m fine,” I said, closing the door behind me. “I hope you don’t mind—”

“Not at all.” She tilted the pitcher over a potted miniature palm in the hallway. “We’re always glad to have company.”

I rarely saw Mr. Russell, but this morning he was seated in the sunroom, which I could see when I looked down the long hallway through the house, right to the back. It looked like he was staring down at the table. I’d never been around anyone with Alzheimer’s, and I wondered if that was how he spent a lot of his time.

Mrs. Russell shook the can and I heard only a few drops left in it. “Let’s go into the kitchen so I can fill this up. Would you like some bacon?”

“No, thank you.”

She turned and padded down the hallway in her slippers. “You sure, honey? I already made it.”

“I could tell when I came inside. It smells delicious, but I’m sure. Thank you.” I followed her, walking slowly so I could look at the hallway walls. They were covered with family pictures. I wanted to stop and see if I could find one of Drew as a child, but I didn’t want to make it obvious so I continued on to the kitchen.

Mrs. Russell stood at the sink as she filled the pitcher. “What brings you by this morning? Everything okay in the apartment?”

“Oh, yeah. Everything’s fine. I’m just wondering…have you talked with Drew?”

“Not in the last few days.” She turned the water off, picked up a towel and dried off the exterior of the pitcher. As she turned around, she said, “But that’s no
t uncommon. Sometimes I’ll talk to him three days in a row, sometimes I’ll see him two days in a row, then other times I won’t see or hear from him for four or five days.” She smiled as she walked toward me. “But I never worry about him. I can always reach him. Everyone in your generation can be reached at any time, it seems. I’ll never get that. Seems to me that a person needs their space where no one can bother them for a while. But Drew’s no different. He carries that phone around like his life depends on it. Other than that, as far as I’m concerned, he’s got his head screwed on right. I don’t care what his mother says, and I care even less what his father says.”

She didn’t elaborate, and since I had no idea whether she knew that Drew had told me about his parents, I just let it go without comment.
She said it matter-of-factly, without malice, just straight-forward honesty. She obviously had a firm opinion when it came to Drew, and it didn’t matter what her daughter or her son-in-law said.

The phone rang and she said, “Excuse me for a minute,” as she walked over to the phone that was mounted on the wall, and I felt like I was stepping back in time. It didn’t even occur to me that people still had those.

As she answered the call, I looked out to the sunroom. Drew’s grandfather was indeed looking down at the table, but he wasn’t staring at it as I had suspected earlier. At the time, I could only see him from behind. Now I had an angle that allowed me to see more. He had cards laid out before him.

I didn’t get to watch long enough to know whether he was doing anything with them, or just looking at them because
Mrs. Russell ended her call. “That was my friend from church, calling with bad news like she always does. I have to keep those calls short just to save my own sanity.”

I liked this lady. She was sharp-witted and pleasant to be around. I found myself imagining what it would have been like for Drew as a child being around these two. He’d
told me a little bit, but I imagined there were many interesting times.

“D
on’t you worry about Drew,” she said. “He’ll pop up before you know it. Always does.”

I told her I was sure she was right, thanked her, and left.

.  .  .  .  .

I believed his grandmother, but I wasn’t content to wait.

I drove to the Isle of Palms Marina, parked, and walked along the dock. I didn’t remember the slip number, but I knew the general area it was in and I remembered that the boat’s name was “AquaHolic.”

I knocked a few times on the side of the boat. Nothing. I knocked again and called out his name. Nothing. I decided to go aboard. Maybe he was sleeping and I needed to knock on the door to stir him out of his slumber. Or maybe I’d get lucky and
discover that he’d left his journal out on the deck and I could find out everything I wanted to know about him.

I s
tarted climbing up the ladder.

“He’s not home,” a voice said from
below. I stopped halfway up and looked down at the dock. An older man stood there. “If you’re looking for Drew, he’s gone. Left about a week ago.”

“Do you know where he went?”

“Beats me.”

When I was back down on the dock I said, “Okay, well, thanks.”

Then, the best sight I had seen in the last week: Cliff trotting down the dock toward me. His tail wagged back and forth and with him panting, it looked like he was smiling. I knelt down to greet him and he licked my face.

“Clifford,” the old man said, “
be gentle.”

“He’s
fine.” I looked up at the man. “You watch after Cliff when Drew is gone, right?”

“Sure do. He’s a handful, but we love him. And we love the dog, too.” His laugh was
phlegmy, like you hear from so many elderly people, and he had a great smile as he cracked himself up.

I laughed with him.
“Do you know when Drew’s coming back?”

He shook his head. “
Not for sure. Said about a week and a half, so should just be a few days.”

I introduced myself to the old man
and he said, “Call me Buck,” explaining that it was a nickname from his time in the military at the end of World War Two and the Korean War, and he obviously took a lot of pride in saying it.

“I’m a friend of Drew’s.
” I stood and wiped my slobbery face on my t-shirt. “We had a little…falling out, I guess you’d call it.”

He nodded and pressed his mouth in
to a line, conveying what looked to be genuine sympathy. “Well, you youngsters need to work it out. Life’s too short for squabbles.” I could see why Drew liked this guy.

“I know this is asking a lot,” I said, “but would you do me a favor?”

Chapter Thirteen

Two days later,
just after eight in the morning, my phone rang.

I answered it and heard the words I’d been waiting for: “He’s here.”

“Thanks, Buck. I really appreciate it.”

Ten minutes later, I parked my car at the marina and headed down the docks with a purpose. He was going to give me a few minutes to say what I wanted to say, whether he liked it or not.

My purposeful walk sounded like more like a stomp as each step hit the wooden dock. The pelicans and seagulls perched on the pylons took flight as I passed by.

My heart rate increased as I stood next to the
AquaHolic. I was about to call out his name when he appeared. Drew wore blue cotton workout shorts, his Chicago Cubs baseball cap on backwards, and nothing else. He was holding a hose.

“Hey, I was just about to spray the boat off. Can you catch?” He held the coiled hose out as if he were about to toss it to me.

After the way our trip ended, and after being missing in action for nine days, he was acting like nothing had happened.

“Are you serious?” I said.

He looked at the hose, then back at me. “Well, yeah, I don’t want to throw it to you if you’re not good at catching. I can just throw it down to the dock.” It figured that he’d try to make a joke and deliver it with a deadpan expression and tone.

I resisted the urge to sound annoyed when I responded.
“That’s not what I’m talking about.”

He tossed the hose
right at me. Fortunately, I did possess a little strength and athletic skill—mostly from my surfing—and I caught it. It was all I could do not to throw it back up there to him. Or maybe in the water. Something to piss him off. I was seeing his stand-offish side and I didn’t like it.

I dropped the hose on the dock. “Do you think your cleaning could wait for maybe five or ten minutes?”

“Sure, what’s up?” He crossed his arms over his tan chest. I tried not to care that he looked amazing in the soft early morning sunlight.

I was about to ask if I could come aboard, but decided not to. I just went right for the latter, got up on the deck of the boat, and faced him. “
What’s up
? I should be asking that of you. But I’m not going to. It’s none of my business where you were for the last nine days, but ignoring my texts was a pretty shitty thing to do.”

Standing closer to him now,
I could smell soap, and I noticed that the curls sticking out from his hat were wet.

He took a deep breath and exhaled. “It was a trip I had planned a while back.”

I let several seconds tick by before I responded. “So…what does that have to do with you not even having the courtesy to text me back?”

He shrugged.
“Nothing, I guess.”

“Okay, look. You don’t owe me an explanation of where you were or what you were doing. But I think you do about the texts, and it doesn’t sound like you’re going to tell me, so just let me say what I came here to say.”

His gaze was fixed on me, a serious look on his face, like he’d never been talked to by a girl like that before.

I stepped closer to him. “I’m sorry about what happened the night we got back from Vegas. I took what you said all wrong. And, yes, I’m still angry about what happened to me. When you said something that sounded like you didn’t get my pain, all that anger I have
pent up came flying out of me, at you. And I’m sorry. Okay? I said it. I mean it. And I’ll let you get back to hosing down the boat.”

I turned away from him to walk back to the ladder.

He grabbed my arm. I didn’t try to pull away. I stopped.

Drew turned me
around to face him. We were a couple of inches apart. I looked up at his face. He said, “You’re so afraid.”

My eyes widened and I felt my face gro
w hot, and not from the rising morning sun. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

He reached for my face.
“And you’re being weak.”

I pulled away.
“I’m afraid and I’m weak?” My eyes rapidly shifted from one of his, to the other, and back. I shook my head, stunned at what I was hearing.

He nodded slowly and inched even closer to me. Drew grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the boat’s cabin door.

“What are you doing?” I demanded.

He didn’t answer me. He slid the door open. Cliff bounded out onto the
deck, Drew tugged me inside, and closed the door behind him, leaving Cliff outside.

He pulled me close to him and before I could do anything to stop it, he kissed me. It was unlike any kiss we’d shared, and I wanted to pull away or push him away or pound my fists on his chest…but I didn’t have to.

He ended the kiss, then repeated his insult. “You’re scared of life.” He pressed his lips to mine again.

Now I tried to pull away, and he let me, just a little. “What the f—”

He kissed me again, then said, “You’re being weak because you
think
you’re weak. But you have no idea how strong you are.” His hand came up to my face. A strand of my hair had fallen over one eye, and Drew pushed it aside with his finger.

This is when I expected the tears to flow, but I resisted. I’d become pretty good at that over the summer,
but it was becoming difficult again as I listened to Drew continue.

“You walked out of the restaurant that day when I said you were a risk taker who wasn’t taking risks,” he
continued. “And I was right about the walls you put up around you. You trusted me enough let me over the wall after Vegas.”

He stepped forward, making me take a step backward. I felt the backs of my legs touch his bed. Drew wrapped an arm around my waist, holding me
tightly as he slowly lowered me onto my back.

His other arm supported his weight as he hovered over me.
“I’m sorry I broke your trust in me.” He kissed me again, this time with an urgency even more intense than the one a few moments ago.

I reached up to his head, grabbing his baseball ca
p and throwing it on the floor.

I ran m
y fingers through his damp hair as several emotions went to war in my mind. Drew hadn’t responded to what I came here to tell him. Did he owe that to me? Should I expect an explanation of why he disappeared for nine days?

Did any of that matter
at the moment, as my body craved his touch, trying to shut down the rational side of me that was screaming for me to slow down?

I knew Drew wouldn’t cross a line he shouldn’t, but this wasn’t about him, specifical
ly. It was about me, and whether I could be physically intimate with a guy again.

So soon.

So…
now
.

I opened my eyes when I felt his lips separate from mine.

His voice was a low whisper. “Ready to take a risk?”

“Yes.” I could hear my own heartbeat in my ears.
I had made my choice. He was going to see all of me.

He maintained eye contact with me as I felt his hand slip beneath the hem of my shirt, pulling it up. I arched my back so he could pull it up farther, over my bra.

His hand cupped my breast, his fingers spreading over the fabric of my bra, his thumb sweeping across and making my nipple tighten.

Drew’s hand slid down my side and beneath my back. He steadied himself on
his knees as his other hand reached behind me. I arched my back again, felt the bra clasp release and then the straps went slack.

He held himself above me with one hand while the other glided down my side, beneath the waist of my shorts
, then my underwear, finally resting on my bottom. He pulled me against him and I felt how much he wanted this.

I was glad I had resisted his advances the last time on the boat, and then again in Vegas. Now, after having gone through a little turmoil together, and after hearing him
say what he’s just said, I was ready, and all because it was about to happen with Drew.

I knew we were both thinking the same thing when he said, “It’s not just about this, Leah.”
The look on his face proved he meant it.

“I know.”

We looked into each other’s eyes, until he lowered his head and sealed his lips around mine. His mouth parted my lips and Drew’s kissing became intense and unrestrained as our tongues swirled together.

I couldn’t see what he was doing, but I knew. Without leaving my mouth, his hand left my shorts, and I felt him sliding his own shorts down,
then kicking them off.

I put my hand on his chest and felt his skin, taut over the muscles that twitched as I touched him.

As my hand explored more of his chest, and lower to his abs, Drew’s fingers worked the button and zipper on my shorts, and a few seconds later they joined his on the floor.

We rolled together, Drew pulling me on top,
then flipping me over onto my side. His body was warm, tight, strong. As we moved, I felt his excitement against one thigh, then the other, and on my lower stomach.

I took it in my hand as Drew slipped a finger inside me.

“God, Leah…”

I moaned into his mouth as he kissed me deeply.

I could have spent all day lying there with him, doing only that, until neither of us could go any longer, but neither of us could have waited much longer, and it wasn’t long before Drew took the lead.

Once on my back again, Drew knelt between my legs, reached to the bedside table, flung the drawer open, and got a condom.

As he rolled it on, he said, “Any time, say the word and we’ll stop.”

“
Don’t stop.” The words came out quickly with a heavy exhale.

And seconds later, my breath hitched as he entered me.

.  .  .  .  .

When it was over, Drew fell onto his
side and we faced each other. His left arm was still under me and I rested my head on it, curling up next to him. His other arm was pulled up between us, and I traced the outline of his Celtic knot tattoo with my fingertip.

This moment of closeness was interrupted by a scratching noise. It took me a second to realize it was coming from the
door.

Drew sighed. “At least he waited until after.” He
got up, put his shorts on, and let Cliff into the cabin.

I
wrapped myself in Drew’s blanket and brought it up to my face. It smelled of fabric softener, some kind of cologne and, yes, a little like dog.

I smiled, feeling content and
safe.

I had done it.

A moment of weakness? No.

A moment of strength.

.  .  .  .  .

After lying on hi
s bed for a few minutes, with Cliff joining us, Drew said he was hungry and I agreed.

“I know exactly
what we’re going to do,” he said, pulling on his shirt. “Get dressed. You’ll like this.”

“I have to be at work by noon.”

“This won’t take long, and I’ll tell you about my trip.”

He
refused to tell me what we were doing, just saying I needed to do something wild and risky. I reminded him that what we’d just done was pretty wild and risky. He challenged me to go, though, so I did.

As I sat
in the passenger seat of his truck, I glanced at the glove compartment, wondering if it still contained the six thousand dollars from Vegas. Drew hadn’t seen me put it in there when we got back from the trip, and he hadn’t said anything about it today, so maybe he hadn’t opened it lately.

F
ifteen minutes later, as we walked into the lobby of the Hampton Inn, Drew explained: “Free breakfast. They just put the stuff out there. Nobody checks to see whether you’re a guest at the hotel. The people working the front desk in the morning weren’t working the night before, so they have no idea—you could have checked in late last night. Plus, who would think someone would be gutsy enough to show up at a hotel and eat the continental breakfast? Nobody’s expecting it, so it’s safe. But it’s kind of like the casinos—you can’t go to the same one a lot.”

I knew he played blackjack for money, but this sounded more like he did it for kicks. Maybe he got a rush from it.
But it seemed risky. “That’s stealing.”

Drew stopped just before we entered the restaurant just off the lobby. “You’re taking some of the fun out of this, but if it makes you feel better, I always leave
money on the table. I doubt it goes to the hotel, though. Maybe a busboy pockets it. I don’t know, but at least it clears my conscience.”

“You’re odd.”

I looked around, saw that the restaurant was pretty full, and that the front desk clerk was busy looking at her phone.

Drew put his arm around my lower back and leaned in toward me, his mouth close to my ear. “This is nothing compared to the
risk you took a little while ago with me.”